Clown Boy - Susan Fosnot

In Memoriam

Another month and another devastating loss to our NIADA family. Susan Fosnot passed away from cancer on April 30th. Susan’s unique skill of creating tiny souls from textiles and paint endeared her to collectors and newcomers alike.

I first really visited with Susan at the NIADA conference in Nashville. In the salesroom, our tables were across from each other and I was smitten with the little people laid out on her table. There was something about those faces that I couldn’t walk away from. I ended up buying one of her dolls and one of her pins, but not without a lot of difficulty trying to choose which ones. I know why collectors have multiples of her work.

Her willingness to share her talent by teaching has touched the lives of so many. After visiting with her friend, Deborah Crosby, I asked if she would be willing to share her memories of Susan and I have also included ‘In Her Words’, quips by Susan as remembered by Rhonda King. Rachel Hoffman also shared a video about Susan on YouTube which can be viewed here: YOUTUBE LINK

As we continue to find creative ways to reach new artists, collectors and doll lovers, we also face the loss of those who have been a part of this community and have contributed to this genre in the only way they knew how. From their heart and their hand. Susan had a giving heart and a gifted hand.
We will miss you. ~ Cindee Moyer, NIADA President


Every once in a while we meet someone very special, someone we connect with without any apparent effort, and somehow words and ideas flow as naturally and quickly as hummingbird’s wings. Concepts become realities and the images in our brain are shared in such a way that the other person knows exactly what you’re seeing. We are very lucky when we find this friend, and we are considerably diminished when this friend passes from this world into the next.

Susan Fosnot was such a friend. The first time I saw one of her dolls was when I found her printed “Stella” on eBay several years ago and was totally captivated by that charming face. Naturally, I had to have her. When she arrived I was thrilled and determined that I must learn more about the incredible artist who created this doll.

Susan, my dear friend, thank you for the gift of love. Is it silly that I talk to your dolls?
You know I am really talking to you. ~ Deb Crosby


The essential Susan Fosnot, in her own words. Some are direct quotes, some are from my memories.

On being a vegetarian: “No animal should have to suffer to feed me.”
On self: “If I couldn’t be beautiful, at least I found I could paint.”
On her drawing teacher in college giving encouragement: “He told me, ‘this one can draw. A little.’”
On failure: “Never, ever throw away something you have worked on.”
On feeling stymied in artwork: “Put it in the closet for a week, then look at it again.”
On friendship: “If we had met earlier, somewhere else, I wonder if we would have even liked each other.”
On making art: “Second-guessing yourself is the worst. Don’t do it.”
On her best friend since Kindergarten, Carol: “She thinks I’m normal. I made a doll of her, but so far she doesn’t want it.”
On having cancer: “I have a friend who drives me an hour and a half every time to appointments. She’s a dog person. So I am trying to teach myself to draw dogs for her.”
On Girl Scout Cookies: “I won’t buy them when they have their Moms hawk them.”
On dentistry: “I had my first filling last year. See how much good that dental virtue did me?”
On being a cancer patient: “I am starting to feel like the source of income for the medical-industrial complex.”
On my expressed concern about her cancer fight: “I am still on the green side of the grass.”
On selling dolls: “If a doll sells, no more work on it! It is finished.”
On her suffering: “I am a pile of anxiety. I can’t finish anything.”
On going to the dentist: “It does not seem like a good idea to begin painting after someone has been digging around in one’s mouth.”
On self: “The hammer says I am not a nail.”
On a cancer diagnosis: “Do we get a choice? No. Sometimes I just want to cry.”
On humility: “We also need to remember that in the scheme of things we are really small potatoes.”
On painting: “What do you do when you have too much red?”
On dolls: “I like the flat face. They have more authentic history and I find them aesthetically pleasing.”
On encouraging me: “Who makes dolls like yours? I haven’t seen anything that compares to yours. You are alone in your category.”
And finally, on her own process: “I still think there is SOMETHING amazing that I haven’t made yet, that is just barely beyond my reach, that I could get at if I just paid attention.”
Susan, you caused me to pay attention. Always.
~ Rhonda King

Like many dollmakers, I made dolls as a child. And like many dollmakers I was drawn away from the art for a while. During this time I did many other things, including earning my degree in art from the University of Wisconsin. Eventually I returned to dolls. Now I have been making dolls for more than 20 years. I also teach dollmaking, and I love that. I love to see fledgling dollmakers discover their own power of creation.

My dolls are all made entirely of cloth and the faces are painted. The dolls are sewn and stuffed in the same way most cloth dolls are. Then I paint them using traditional portrait techniques to create the illusion of facial features and hair. I dress them in antique and vintage materials.

I am fascinated by historic cloth dolls, particularly the Mother-made variety, which are often made with as much passion as skill. I find them to be very compelling. In my own dolls, I am always striving to perfect the blend of the flat illusion of face and the three-dimensional form of the doll. I like them being mobile in the way that play dolls are mobile. I think this mobility engages the viewer, and invites interaction on a level not offered by sculpture. I created a finely detailed printed cloth doll for the UFDC 2015 convention souvenir, which was probably my biggest dollmaking challenge, both technically and logistically.