Assignment 4 - Research Point: Textile Artists

This final research point asks how we think the work of a textile artist differs from the designer, designer-maker or the craftsperson and whether there is any crossover.  We are also asked to describe the work of two internationally-known textile artists, consider whether we view textile art in the same way as other art forms and whether it has become acceptable as a medium for fine art.  

If I am forced to place these occupations into boxes, it's with reluctance, as I believe there are too many confusing crossovers.  However, here are the simplest dictionary style definitions I could come up with to describe the differences:

Craftsperson: A skilled person who makes or repairs bespoke, as opposed to mass-produced, items that may be decorative but tend to be functional.  The pattern or idea is usually provided by someone else. Textile crafts are extremely diverse and include quilting, spinning, dyeing, basketry, tailoring and methods of fabric production such as weaving, felting, hand-knotted carpets, needlepoint and knitting.

Designer-Maker: Self-explanatory and similar to a craftsperson but the template or idea is also their own.

Designer: Creates the pattern or idea for bespoke, or often mass-produced, textile items. Production is carried out elsewhere.  Well-known textile designers include homeware and fashion designer Orla Kiely, and Amy Butler, who specialises in prints for home-sewing.

Artist: Creates works that may be functional, but are more concerned with aesthetics than utility.  Textile artists incorporate fibres somehow.

However, there are no essential qualifications to give yourself any of these titles.  A few weeks ago, I went to the contemporary visual art fair, Art in the Pen and as I picked up business cards, I noticed how exhibitors described themselves.  I considered two exhibitors there. Both were using wet felting techniques to create items to hang on your wall, yet one, Angela Barrow, described herself as a 'Feltmaker', the other Valerie Wartelle, a 'Fibre Artist'.  I liked both their work yet I felt that there was a difference here, above the obvious difference in inspiration and style.  Not necessarily down to any level of skill, but according to the descriptions above, I would say Angela is a Designer Maker, whereas Valerie's work I felt was art. Partly I thought, I was influenced by how Valerie's work is viewed - framed and behind glass.  (Often textile art is left unframed so that the textural qualities can be appreciated.)  Valerie's work also is very painterly and though it's described as contemporary, it has traditional fine art qualities and subjects, portraying realistic, highly atmospheric landscapes. Her sewing machine needle has been used like a paintbrush.  I found it aesthetically beautiful though it was really the level of expression I felt that made the difference.

Artfelt by Valerie Wartelle's 'Earthlungs #4' 79cm x 34cm
(Used with permission of the artist)
 

Of the four different titles above I found 'Designer' easiest to categorise whilst struggling with the boundaries of the other three.  I came up with a theory about the route into textiles making a difference and assumed Valerie had a fine art background.  When I asked her though, I was wrong - her background is in textile design. So you can definitely move through one category into another or be in more than one at a time which explains why, in the exhibition catalogue, very few of the statements say what the exhibitor is, rather it describes what techniques they use and what their inspiration is.

By now I was questioning whether titles really matter.  I've read cover to cover Kaffe Fassett's autobiography 'Dreaming in Colour' recently, as he is one of the textile artists I've chosen whose work inspires me.  I've concluded, it is impossible to categorise someone like him, who simultaneously paints still life, illustrates, knits, does needlepoint and mosaic whilst designing fashion knits and quilting fabrics and I was relieved to read this refreshing quote:

"The distinction some purists draw between art and craft doesn't exist for me.  So many artists today seem to be able to use textile making in their work that the barriers are softened.  I always try to make my textiles as beautiful as I can manage imbuing them with all the efforts of a work of art.  It's up to others to describe, if they have to, what it ends up being". (Fassett 2012:113)

(I particularly like the use of the word softened, which seems so appropriate for textiles.)

Cover photo for 'Dreaming in Colour'
Image courtesy of Kaffe Fassett Studio

 

There are many examples throughout Kaffe's story, illustrating the 'barriers' - the struggle for acceptance of textile art.  Until relatively recently, big shows of crafts the average person could do were still rare. 'Don't dabble in the crafts if you want to be a serious painter.' (Fassett, 2012: 113) was a piece of advice he ignored at the time.  He describes the 'Abstract Design in American Quilts' in Whitney New York 1971 as a key event when the art world began to take notice of textiles.  He always felt it was only a matter of time.

In his one man show in 1988 his exhibition at the V & A was the 2nd most successful in history, doubling the usual number of visitors, yet there was still negativity. 'Why is the great V & A stooping to have an exhibition of knitting patterns?' (Fassett, 2012:158) one newspaper asked. When a Rowan rep suggested he try patchwork in 1987, Kaffe himself said, 'isn't patchwork just cutting up old clothes and sewing them back together?  (Fassett 2012:190). It's interesting to read that he found the prejudices towards textiles seemed to be greatest in the US, the home of the art quilt. While other countries clamoured for the exhibition on its world tour after the V & A, he was still struggling to get serious museum exhibitions there. Even in the '90s when he queried a curator, the telling answer came, 'We talk about you in museums in the US, but we feel you are too popular. But don't give up on us'! (Fassett 2012:195) 

So it seems acceptance of textile art may vary by location. In Scandinavia, (Fassett, 2012:159) Kaffe suggests, it is perceived quite differently.  Most people can sew, knit and embroider to a high standard.  Although the techniques are simple and something everyone can do and can therefore relate to, they appreciate the worth in the excitement of the colour and texture combinations, harmony of placements and proportions.  He describes in Stockholm how sympathetic curators, painted walls and gathered complimentary antiques from the archives while the public formed long queues to get in and how touching the tactile exhibits was quite normal. 

As for describing Kaffe Fassett's work, it covers so many areas that here I've concentrated just on needlepoint and knitting.

Kaffe Fassett

Materials: Mainly wool with cotton, silk and mohair to provide a texture change.

Scale: Big and bold. Large scale patterns and large needlepoint panels.

Suzani Wrap
Image courtesy of Kaffe Fassett Studio

Techniques: The stitches are all very simple: tent or bargello stitches for needlepoint and stocking stitch for knitting with a rib or occasionally garter or crocheted edging.  Colour is incorporated using Fair Isle and intarsia techniques. Circular needles are used to hold a large number of stitches and often items are knitted cuff to cuff depending on the design, which occurs directly on the needles or canvas. In his knitting books, often only two or three colours are used in a single row but the colours change so frequently, it appears more complex. The stitches are simple but it is the sympathetic placement and layering of pattern and colour and the blend of yarns that is key.  Fine yarns are combined together for infinite variations in tone and texture. He has sometimes described his work as painting with wool. If a colour doesn't exist in yarn, he mixes it himself.

Lidiya Felted Tweed for Rowan Knitting Magazine 48
Image Courtesy of Kaffe Fassett Studios

Colour: Unapologetic. From rich, intense reds, hot pink, blues, oranges, greens and yellows to lavenders, rust tones and everything in between. 'When in doubt, add twenty more colours.' (Fassett 1985:8) Colour Influences have included paintings by Odilon Redon, Piere Bonnard , Edouard Vuillard and Severin Roesen and places as diverse as New York rubbish piles, Scottish landscapes, the markets of Portobello Road, Gaudi's Barcelona, Hyde Park flower beds and lines of laundry in India. Kaffe pulled out of art school when they began to study colour theory seriously in a scientific way. He believes (Fassett 2012: 49), colour is instinctive and is learned by constant observation and playful exploration.  

4 Large Flower Cushions at Ehrman Tapestry
Image Courtesy of Kaffe Fassett Studios

Imagery: Foliage and flowers, fruit and vegetables.  Cabbages, auriculars, pansies and big blousy blooms like roses and peonies come to mind.  Natural forms like shells feature and ceramics are a big influence as well as geometrics.  Circles, stripes, chevrons, lattice, Islamic arches and stars are often seen in layered patterns.  I was surprised and delighted to find out that he can still be inspired now by strong visual memories of experiences many years earlier.

Shells Carpet at Ehrman Tapestry
Image Courtesy of Kaffe Fassett Studios

Sue Reno is the other textile artist whose work I chose to describe.  I'd made a shortlist and the images of Sue's work drew me in, just like Kaffe Fassett's, by its vibrant colour, particularly the combination of reds and greens next to the cyanotype print indigo.  Having recently done some basic sun print experiments, I was interested to see more of its possibilities on fabric.  Finally, as Sue is one of the best known Art Quilters in the world I was interested to consider when a quilt becomes an art quilt.  I imagined that a quilt artist would face additional challenges in altering perceptions of a quilt as something other than a functional object, particularly in the US with its strong domestic roots.

My sun print experiments

I watched this YouTube interview with Sue a couple of times and found out that Sue from a young age was making clothing and traditional quilts.  It was interesting to hear how she made the move from a hobbyist crafter who needed an avenue for expression away from her day job as a carer, to a dedicated professional art quilter.  When asked how, she simply said that she 'declared it'. The move was all about re-invention and a change in mind set, exploring her core processes further and deeper.  Art was now her priority - a job, not play and she learned to be assertive and disciplined, taking her studio time and schedules seriously. She explains how the timing of her decision coincided with the start of the Internet explosion and social networking and how she took advantage of this by learning the technology to promote her work and connect to her audience.

Sue also gives good advice in the interview about considering the various locations to exhibit your work.  Like Kaffe Fassett who found his most welcoming reception in Scandinavia, Sue also found that her work was accepted and 'fit' better in some places than others

When asked about how her art form is perceived, Sue talks about the need to educate in where fibre art has gone.  She says she has been lucky, in that when she joined a group of artists working in different disciplines, none of them ever questioned her use of fibre.  To them, it was just another medium like painting or sculpture.  She says there is still the tendency for women in particular, to undervalue their work and discount their labour and talent. To price her work fairly, she keeps detailed records of her time and materials. One piece can take several hundred hours to design, cut and stitch. Despite being one of the most successful art quilters in the world, Sue still has an unrelated day job to make ends meet.  (I wondered now whether Kaffe Fassett would have enjoyed the same success had he been born female.  He says himself that he was a source of interest, even a 'freak' (Fassett 2012:143), partly because he was man who knits. For me though, alongside his talents, it is his optimistic engaging personality and the encouragement he gives in his teaching that is the draw, regardless of gender.)

I contacted Sue to ask her how she felt about the acceptability of textile art as a fine art medium and was delighted when she took the time to send me this reply:

'I submit work in a variety of venues, ranging from traditional quilt shows to fine craft venues to mixed media /all media exhibits at universities and mid-level museums.  I find that my emphasis on good design, original content, and excellent craftsmanship is increasingly welcomed and rewarded.  I think some of the bias against textiles and fiber arts as "women's work" is finally eroding, and it is an exciting time to be a fiber artist.'

Sue Reno

Materials: Indian silks, wools, cotton prints and recycled fabrics saved from decades of home dressmaking. Seldom buys fabrics - paints existing stash as necessary. Does buy PFD (prepared for dye) fabric from speciality suppliers like Whaleys (as mentioned in previous Research Point: Textile Diversity).  

Scale: Prefers to make large scale, one-off, high end, labour intensive quilts for gallery exhibiting.  

Techniques: Starts with the idea and colour scheme generated by photographs and collected subject material displayed on studio design wall. Uses Photoshop and digital printing directly onto fabric using freezer paper and archival ink. Also uses image transfer sun printing techniques on fabric (cyanotype and heliographic).

Components are prepared: 'Flip-and-stitch' technique is used to make foundation strips (similar to how I made background for my Roman Urn panel in Assignment 3 - Applied Fabric Techniques).  Elements are combined by machine to create a surface cloth.  Works quickly and intuitively using simple tools: a large table and a machine somewhere between a domestic and industrial model. Prefers the intimacy of a domestic machine but her model has a longer flat-bed allowing more room to manoeuvre the bulk of the quilt. 

Cloth is layered with batting before depth, texture and movement is added with hand or machine stitch.  Hand beading or fabric paint is sometimes applied if required.



Ginger Cyanotype on Silk, Indian Silks and Machine Stitching
Image used with permission of Sue Reno, all rights reserved

Colour: Shades of indigo blue often feature, typically with bright apple green, reds or yellows.  Also purples, greys and sometimes other pastels and muted shades.



Fox and Hackberry Cyanotypes on cotton, monoprints on silk, artist painted fabric, commercial fabric, vintage crochet and stitching. Image used with permission of Sue Reno, all rights reserved

Imagery: Architectural structures, flora and fauna (particularly skulls).  Sue likes to hike, has an extensive organic garden and interprets her outdoor experiences - the leaves or glimpses of small mammals - into textiles.

Silk Mill #3 Screen prints on cotton, digital images on silk, artist painted and commercial silk, cotton and wool fabrics, machine stitching.  Image used with permission of Sue Reno, all rights reserved.

Completing this research point and noticing the similarities between how these two artists work has made me understand some of the reasons why I was drawn to choose them, beyond a mutual love of extravagant colour.  Their drive is not money or fame, but comes from a need to express themselves in a tactile, colourful medium. Both create work with a strong graphic appeal that draws you in to appreciate the incredible detail.  Learning about their way of working has also been inspiring.  As someone easily seduced and overwhelmed by new ideas, tools, materials and techniques, I admire how they also become excited, yet not distracted. Both use extremely simple techniques and set limits.  Vast arrays of colours can be created by using what they have available - fabric is painted or yarns combined. Once they have an idea, they work with intense focus, instinctively and directly placing shape and colour and their inspiration is by way of constantly, almost obsessively observing and banking the world around them.

Reading List:
Fassett, Kaffe (2012) Dreaming in colour: an autobiography. New York: Stewart, Tabori & Chang
Fassett, Kaffe (1985) Glorious knitting. London: Century Publishing
Hunt, Zoe & Fassett, Kaffe (1989) Family Album: knitting for children and adults. London: Guild Publishing

Assignment 3 Research Point - Textile Diversity

At the start of Assignment 3, we are asked to 'Investigate the diversity of style and design in textiles available to the consumer'. It is suggested we research on Internet, in books and magazines, visit local fabric and furnishing stores and make a collection of fabrics and/or images to illustrate the diversity.

Researching fabrics available to the consumer

Browsing through the features and classified section in magazines, such as Cloth, Making, Surface Design Journal, Handmade Living, Selvedge and Elle Decoration, I found the majority advertising here were selling printed cottons for crafts and dressmaking.

Hannah's Room specialise in batik prints for quilting and patchwork

Floral prints feature heavily in all these magazines and there looks to be a trend in both fashion and furnishings for textured animal prints, particularly fake fur and large romantic blooms (for SS 2013, dark backgrounds replace light). In homeware, nostalgic Cath Kidston and Amy Butler style florals and reproduction block prints are popular. Fair Isle designs, which featured on the catwalks AW 2011, are still around in furnishings, along with crochet, screen prints and patchwork.

Florals Dominate

There is ample choice of vintage fabric suppliers in the classifieds and on auction sites. Reclaimed kimono silks, retro Scandinavian folk style screen prints and 'atomic' barkcloth prints from the '40s to '60s are sought after. Ditsy floral prints from 1980's Laura Ashley and Liberty are also popular. This reflects the common theme of courses and workshops advertised in the magazines. 'Make Do and Mend', 'Vintage Dressing', Survive and Revive', 'Hand Alterations and Upcycling' are just a few of many similar. The Eurozone is still in recession and there is a growing movement of designers such as Junky Styling London who are working against fast fashion, sustainably, and with recycled materials.

Vintage/reclaimed fabrics are popular for furnishings such as these kimono silk remnants and modern crazy patchwork in brights is still a furnishing trend

 

 

Other suppliers specialise in fabric for artists and designers, such as Exotic Silks, who supply 1400 different types from Habotai for painting and linings to crepe de Chine for dressmaking and charmeuse for lingerie and drapey luxury items. Locally, I found Whaleys in Bradford who stock an enormous choice, available in any quantity from 1 metre. There are whole ranges of synthetic and natural fabrics prepared for dyeing and printing, coated fabrics for digital printing, dissolvables, discharge fabrics, devores, jutes, hessians, buckrams, linens, mixed fibres and more. There is even a department specialising in flameproof stage fabrics for theatre curtains and sets. Millinery net, organic cottons and many fabrics I'd never even heard of such as Pinukpop, hair canvas (interfacing for high quality tailoring) and even black delaine wool for nun's veiling are on the price list. (Interesting page on Nun's Veiling on Page 73 of Issue 49 Selvedge magazine.)

Fabworks Mill Shop in Dewsbury, is well used by schools as a resource for creative textiles, selling a wide variety of interesting scraps and remnants, along with fabrics for fashion, dance wear and furnishings. Textile artist Mister Finch, whose work was featured in the most recent Selvedge magazine (Issue 50) introduced me to Scrap in Leeds. This is a social enterprise that rescues waste fabric and materials destined for landfill and sells it on very cheaply to schools, community groups, students and individuals for art and play.

Destined for landfill but now on sale at Scrap for creative re-use

When I visited Scrap with the OCA students recently after a Yorkshire Group visit to the Nike Savvas exhibition, we were all fascinated. It's not somewhere you can go with a list of things to buy because you have no idea what you might find. It's an amazing place to pick up the unusual, be inspired and cheaply buy fabric and materials to experiment with - though you won't necessarily know what it is you have bought! I came out with a huge designer wallpaper sample book (for wrapping paper, book covers and collage), a stack of 6" squares made of something resembling Tyvek that I've been stitching into and apparently takes ink very well, a load of punched Jacquard loom weaving cards (thinking of weaving into them for the next assignment) and most usefully for this research point, a large number of samples of furnishing fabrics that included detailed specification, composition and fabric care advice.

Yorkshire Textile Artist Mister Finch who created my moths buys materials from Scrap Stuff 

One large binder of samples was from Agua, whose background is supplying upholstery fabrics to the healthcare sector. They now describe themselves as 'a market leader in technical upholstery and curtain fabrics for all contract markets.' The fabrics have a luxury feel (many are convincing look-a-likes for leather, velvet and woven cotton) but each range has additional performance properties that makes them suitable for use in leisure, hospitality, cruise liners or healthcare. Desirable qualities for these settings might include anti-microbial, stain resistance, flame retardance, waterproofing, UV resistance, breathability, hard-wearing and wipeclean. This was the first time I've taken much notice of specifications and I was surprised by just how much information is contained. I was expecting composition and fabric care but not necessarily test results and standards for tear strength, tensile strength, pilling, urea resistance etc. Making up instructions include recommended number of stitches per 10cm and minimum seam bite on the fabric.

Hardwearing technical upholstery fabrics like these might be used for fixed seating in leisure, hospitality or health centres

I also acquired two small chained sets of upholstery fabric sample chips from Pallas Textiles. One Jacquard pattern is called Transom and is part of an earthy coloured collection called 'Plantation' that was inspired by aerial views of freshly ploughed fields. The other is a plaid weave called Kwaart, named after the transparent glaze used by Delft potters. It has irregular metallic threads running through representing the high gloss and depth of colour of the Dutch porcelain. Both patterns are 100% polyester but have been treated by a process called Crypton (see video), which makes the fabric a barrier impenetrable to spills, odours and bacteria. It's therefore suitable for settings such as hospitals or hotels where it could be used in headboards, panel or mattress fabrics.

'Crypton' treated upholstery fabrics are impenetrable to odours, spills and bacteria so are ideal for the healthcare sector

I became more interested in performance fabrics and began to have a look to see what was happening locally. Firstly I contacted Pennine Outdoor Ltd, founded in 1962 in Holmfirth and now in the Dales. They sent me a representative sample selection of their specialist outdoor fabrics. Products range from trampoline mesh, deckchair canvas and fabrics for covers, awning and tents to performance fabrics like neoprene and Gaberdine (which I now know was invented by Thomas Burberry!) and lambskin fleece for clothing and bags. They told me their customers include small businesses, retail shops, schools, hospitals, outdoor activity centres and private individuals interested in making their own gear. As many of their customers use domestic sewing machines, the range of fabrics reflects this need and they also provide accessories like zips and buckles along with patterns and sewing/making up advice.

Outdoor performance fabrics

I decided investigate one of the fabrics from the sample selection in more detail. I chose Ventile which was invented in the UK out of necessity just prior to WW2 when a flax shortage was predicted (flax was then used to make fire hoses and water buckets). I found it interesting that it had such impressive water resistant properties, comparable to modern processed synthetic fabrics, despite being made from 100% cotton. It is the combination of an extremely dense weave and the swelling properties of the specific long cotton fibres when they come into contact with water which prevents water passage. Ventile claims to have unsurpassed breathability and one of its important properties which I'd never have considered previously is its quietness. There is no rustle and it is comfortable, so is an ideal fabric for hunting, nature watchers, photographers and the military.

We are also asked to find out whether there are any fabrics or techniques peculiar to where we live. Yorkshire is famous of course for its production of fine worsted woollen cloth but I didn't know that just down the road, a successful project has recently taken place to ensure that highly counterfeited textiles like worsted can be made uncopyable. I read about the project which had taken place at Huddersfield Textile Centre of Excellence and was delighted when they responded to my enquiries with an invitation to visit.

Technical Manager Craig Lawrance and Training and Learning Team Manager Richard Axe explained a little of the history of the research and training centre. They were interested to hear about the OCA Textile course and explained that often Textile students finish their degree course not understanding enough about the structure of fabric and need further training on entering the workplace. They advised me about TIKP (Textile Innovation Knowledge Platform), a free online resource they launched in November for textile students and anyone in the industry, providing information such as markets, technology updates and a 'knowledge area', explaining the science behind textile materials. (I will be posting details on the student forum.)

Craig took me on a tour of the centre. It was interesting to see the testing lab where materials are tested for the specifications on my samples I've been writing about - pilling, tear strength, crease resistance etc. I was very excited to find out more about the three main development projects they have been involved in: SigNature DNA, the world's first 3D weaving machine and Multiple Laser Surface Enhancement (MLSE).

SigNature DNA
Although I knew Yorkshire worsted cloth is highly prized for its fine quality and is used in Savile Row suits, I had no idea it was enjoying unprecedented demand from the Far East and can fetch up to £5000/metre! Unsurprisingly then, high quality worsteds with selvedge are among the most counterfeited area in Europe and the US, along with 'noble fibres' like cashmere, interior textiles and branded apparel (Burberry being one of the most copied brands). Craig explained that textiles are an easy target. Branded labels are easy to remove and re-fix and it is virtually impossible to spot a 'good' fake without laboratory testing. Provenance is becoming increasingly important to customers in countries like Japan where there is great concern about content and origin. Facts surrounding counterfeiting and the losses it causes are shocking:

'Counterfeit goods entering the European market in the past year have increased by 900%' (source: BBC News, 8 August 2010)

'30% of pharmaceuticals in developing countries have been identified as fake' (source: World Health Organization)

'Counterfeit medication kills an estimated 100,000 people a year and costs the pharmaceutical industry an estimated US$600 billion in global trade' (source: FBI)

Craig explained at the start of the project, which was part-financed by the European Regional Development Fund to assist the local textile industry in protecting their reputation, they purchased vials of botanical DNA from Applied DNA Sciences (ADNAS) in New York. The original DNA, which is from an undisclosed natural plant source looks like a thick cloudy white liquid. It has been isolated, segmented and reshuffled to create a unique marker which cannot be copied. The challenge for the Textile Centre of Excellence has been to perfect cost effective methods of impregnating textiles invisibly, at any stage of the process, without changing the material's quality and properties whatsoever. Forensic authentication needs to be instantly possible, absolute and definite, and detectable in any section of a fabric or yarn. The DNA marker must be robust enough to survive multiple washes and the extreme conditions of any processing.

The DNA marker used now is a clear solution of mostly water and when applied, it's invisible. Although a single vial may costs hundreds, only a very low concentration is needed to be detectable. It's applied using a spray, or in textiles, usually with an ordinary lubricant solution by standard lick roller. The process can be made even more cost effective by considering where to apply the marker, for example in the stripe of a pin stripe fabric. Considering the price the worsted fabric can fetch, the cost of applying the DNA marker is now negligible.

The invisible DNA marker is applied using standard lick rollers.
The marker is in the pin stripe, making it more cost effective.
Top quality Yorkshire woollen worsted is highly prized and can fetch up to £5000/metre.
The suit was made with SigNature DNA worsted at the centre's in-house tailors

3D Weaving
Next I saw the structure, around 5cm deep that the 3D machine had been weaving in a continuous I-shape from glass strands. Craig explained that 3D fabric is fully integrated and loose fibre ends are not all on the same plane. Therefore weak points, that always occur when pieces of 2D material are joined, are almost eliminated. In clothing there is potential for whole garments to be produced without the need for stitching together separate pieces, reducing labour costs. Aerospace and motor industries have been particularly excited by this project as there are possibilities for massive reduction in weight of parts, which then reduces fuel usage and costs. Delamination and impact damage is greatly reduced in a consolidated 3D structure so there is major potential for improving vehicle safety.

MLSE
Craig said that this project was probably the most exciting because of the potential for massively reducing the environmental impact of textile production. Multiple Laser Surface Enhancement uses laser and plasma technology with inert gases in a controlled vacuum environment to make changes to fabric properties. Each required performance characteristic e.g. waterproofing or stain resistance, is achieved by altering the 'recipe' of gases and intensity. Technically superior products can be produced using significantly less time, water, energy and chemicals than traditional processes. (I wanted to know whether DNA markers could be applied with MLSE but not at the moment because the DNA would cross contaminate). Craig showed me some ordinary cotton fabric that had been prepared for dyeing using MLSE. There was no difference to the look or feel of the fabric whatsoever. I can't remember the exact impressive statistics, but when the MLSE treated fabric goes to the client to be coloured, it will be far more responsive to the chemical dye so uses far less and the process is much quicker.

Example of environmental benefits of using MLSE to treat textiles for fire retardance

Thinking about the staggering potential of MLSE to change the future of textile processing is overwhelming. I suggested in 10 years time the industry will be unrecognisable, but Craig said no. Change has started and it will happen much sooner than that. I think, probably like many OCA students with a background in craft and making, I was turned off by the idea of technology. However, after this research, particularly my enlightening morning at the Textile Centre of Excellence, my opinions have completely changed. The future for the textile industry in Yorkshire looks like being as rich and interesting as its past.

(Speaking of the past, the final part of this research point was to visit a local historic house to find out more about the furnishings. I made my visit but am waiting to hear back from the curator as there was limited information available. I'll write about this visit another day.)

Research Point - Looking at a Textile Piece at Home

When was the piece made and how long has it been in your possession?
This tablecloth was bought by my uncle around 1970.  As far as I know it was new when he bought it. He brought it to England as a present for my Grandma.  When she died in 1994, this, and a few items from her sewing box were passed onto me. 

Who made it and where was it made?
I am fairly sure it was bought in either Hong Kong or Singapore where my uncle was based with the Royal Navy at the time. I don't know, but imagine it was stitched by a local home-based worker then sold at a shop or market.

What is it made of?
Fine white linen cloth (I can count 48 threads per inch) with two strands of brightly coloured cotton for the cross stitch design.  There is some pulled thread work around the border that looks like it is worked in either beige cotton perle or a single strand of cotton.

Can you identify the techniques that have been used?
I wondered whether the design was printed on using a washable transfer then stitched, or whether a chart and counted cross stitch was used.  I've concluded that it's probably a washable transfer. I think using a chart is unlikely, as counting over so many fine threads would be extremely time consuming and tricky to get the positioning correct.  I've found a set of four vintage transfers with an oriental design for sale today. One transfer is used for each corner of a square tablecloth design and I could imagine something similar to this being used.

The crosses are worked over five threads.  Inspecting the direction of the stitch on the reverse, I can tell that a row of half crosses have been worked first, then the top stitches.  Surprisingly the top half of the stitch is not always worked in the same direction, which breaks the first rule of cross stitch.  Only small areas are worked at a time with the thread only being carried over a maximum of three stitches and consequently the back looks neat.  I think maybe only one thread has been used, doubled up and secured using the loop method as I can only see one end for each colour area. The ends have been secured by running under just one stitch and cut close therefore some stitching has come loose through wear over time. Perhaps all these techniques have been uses to be economical with thread?  Barely any back stitch has been used, except to highlight the flag on the junk in the corner where the crosses are worked diagonally. The pulled thread border appears to be a variation of a hemstitch. 

Look closely to see the direction of the top half of the cross varies

Looking closely at the blue flower border, I thought at first I saw errors, then I realised they were adjustments. For example, by increasing the number of crosses from four to six in the flower centres, this made sure that the corners met and altering the colour repetitions ensured no two flower centres of the same colour are adjacent.

Was it made by hand or machine? How are you able to determine this?
This is definitely a wholly hand-made piece.  On the reverse of the cloth you can just see the tiny slip stitches on the hem, the knots on the pulled thread work and how the ends have been secured by threading under other stitches.  These are not techniques that could be done by machine.

Evidence of hand stitching

What is it's purpose? Do you still use it? If not, how was it used and by whom?
It's a cloth 118cm square, so presuming a standard 20-25cm skirting at each end, then it would be suitable for a small table around 80cm square. I have never used it as I've never had the right size or shaped table.  I just like to get it out every now and again to look at.  I've seen vintage tablecloths recycled into aprons and other items and I've thought about it but I don't feel able to cut it up as it reminds me of my Grandma who taught me to sew.  I can't remember specifically seeing this tablecloth being used in her house but the linen reminds me of the tray cloths she had and I can remember she always used a tablecloth when visitors came for tea as the table underneath was pretty shabby!

What does it tell you about the maker or the user in terms of gender, role in society, wealth or environment?
There is not a huge amount of skill needed to produce one of these, just endless patience. I don't have any more details on the story my uncle's purchase unfortunately and I've searched for images of similar cloths to try to find out more about the maker, with little success. The handful of comparable cloths I have found, seem to have ended up in the UK and US and have been sold by vintage linen shops on auction sites. They are all square, with an almost identical colour palette, a drawn thread border and a version of the blue inner flower border. They also all have a set of matching napkins, so mine was quite possibly part of a set originally.  Most are slightly smaller than mine and described as being ideal for a tea or bridge table so perhaps this was the intended market? One of the most similar I found is described as 1930s. Perhaps mine wasn't bought new after all, or were these cloths being produced over many years?

Being stitched on fine linen, I feel that the cloths were made for a reasonably wealthy or overseas market, where I can imagine the vibrant images of pagodas, junks and willows looked wonderfully exotic. The tablecloth owners I have contacted, all seem to have come by theirs second hand, so unfortunately they couldn't tell me any more.  Why the top crosses go in different directions is bothering me.  Is mine perhaps a copy of a higher quality product? Zooming in on a photo of another cloth for sale, if I look closely and see this also has stitches going the wrong way. I wonder how much the cloths were bought for originally, as considering the hours of work involved, their value is very low today.  If anyone has any thoughts on my questions and theories, I'd love to hear them.

What do you particularly like about the piece?
Besides the memories of my Grandma's house it evokes, I like the feel of the white linen, which is quite soft and I love that the fabric holds the clean smell of washing detergent.  The design is friendly, the colours are still bright and fresh and I imagine being somewhere civilised enjoying drinking tea from china cups and eating cake on a table with this cloth.

Research Point - Visiting an Contemporary Textile Exhibition: Ancestor Bags, Sue Hiley Harris

I took myself off to Bankfield Museum in Halifax this afternoon to listen to Sue introduce her Ancestor Bags exhibition, on from today until 30 October 2011.  When I was researching what exhibitions were coming up, this was one I really wanted to see because I'd read that it was a representation her direct ancestors.  I've been researching my own family tree for the past few years and was fascinated to see how she symbolised her personal genealogy to textiles.    

Is there a theme?
The whole exhibition consists of abstract woven sculptures.  Each sculpture represents one of Sue's direct ancestors from four generations, from her parents through to great, great grandparents on each side, totalling 30 pieces.  All the ancestors were born in either the UK or Australia and codes are incorporated into each piece which give information about the individual.

Is it well displayed?
I thought the display was very impressive and well thought out.  Sculptures were hung from the ceiling by an invisible thread with the coded information just at eye level.  I enjoyed being able to walk through and view them from each side, appreciating the three dimensions.  All the pieces were in one spacious, high-ceilinged room so it didn't feel cramped or overcrowded and the walls were light, plain and not distracting.  There were comfortable low chairs and a table to sit, look and make notes without feeling you were in anyone's way.  The museum staff were very welcoming and said they like visitors to stop and sit or sketch.  During the talk, Sue mentioned that she had a science degree and was influenced by geometric shapes.  I felt that the heights and distances between the exhibits were most probably carefully measured to be pleasing to the eye.  

Is the lighting appropriate?
Yes.  Sheer white blinds on huge windows filtered natural light and there were overhead spots so although slightly dim there was no straining to see anything.  The light was not harsh, did not create any glare and cast lovely shadows on the walls.

Is there enough explanation of the exhibits?
Although each piece wasn't labelled, it was soon clear to me that the 'bags' were in four rows representing the four generations and the layout was like a hanging family tree.  Working drawings with notes for each sculpture were chronologically displayed in a portfolio and by flicking through you soon got the hang of the code.  There was a large family tree on the wall, and on paper handouts which also had a key on the back. Deciphering the codes was fun and interactive and other visitors seemed to be enjoying it too, kind of like a treasure hunt.  I would have liked more explanation of the aboriginal string bag that was the inspiration for the exhibition, and more on the technique, which was little more than 'woven'.  However, there was a catalogue to buy that does explain these in more detail.

Is it visually stimulating and interesting?
This is a tricky question.  I didn't find it immediately visually engaging.  Walking in, no one was saying 'Wow!', like at the Plains Indian exhibition, and child visitors just walked in and straight out.  Although I appreciated the skill in the construction of the sculptures and found the display attractive, it wasn't this but the concept that was fascinating.  It felt more like discovery than a visual experience.  I left wanting to know more detail about the lives of the people and the connections that the artist made from the project.  Just like adding people to my own family tree, the individuals home country, lifespan and number of children is only a small clue to their lives.

Choose three exhibits and look at these in more depth
The answers to the majority of these questions were the same for all the pieces in the exhibition:

When was the piece made and by whom?
All the pieces were created solely by Sue Hiley Harris.  It took about 6 months to plan, draw and construct each piece in detail ready for their first showing at the Museum of Modern Art in Wales from September 2009.  During the talk, she was keen to point out that it took all her adult life for the ideas to evolve.

What is it made of?
Having lived in Australia, Wales and Yorkshire, Sue says she always wanted these pieces to include wool.  The Aboriginal string bags that sparked the idea for the project are made from cabbage tree palm and bark.  However she eventually chose Chinese hand-tied ramie (plant fibre comparable to flax) as it has similar qualities but greater rigidity for hanging.  Ramie is used for the main warp and part of the weft.  The central part of the structure representing the ancestor's life has a woollen yarn weft.  To enhance the connections with family and home, Sue spun Welsh wool and fleece sent from her sisters in Australia. Natural dye is used to colour the wool yarn.  These are woad, weld, eucalyptus leaves, alum mordant, copper mordant, and local earth pigment such as Australian yellow ochre.

What are the approximate dimensions?
About 1m long, between 5cm - 12cm wide and 3cm deep.

Can you identify the techniques used?   
Detailed mathmatical working drawings on show demonstrate how painstakingly accurate the measurements needed to be to make the bags work as a collection.  Sue made the bags two at a time - husband and wives, as the children's details were generally identical (except where one had additional children with another spouse).  In the ehibition booklet it says 'strip templates were produced and marked where, during construction, intersections in the structure would occur'. Sue bought the ramie ready hand-twisted and tied and used this for the main warp, creating strips 2m long x 3cm wide on a floor loom.  A second warp was set up on what she calls 'a Heath Robinson' - a back strap loom using a stair bannister and the body to give tension.  She spun and dyed the wool fleece used for much of the weft herself.  Woad made the blue, woad overdyed with weld made green, eucalyptus leaves with alum mordant made orange and eucalyptus with copper mordant made the brown for the woven triangles.  Yellow ochre earth pigment was applied by hand. The intersections were created using a complex techique similar to one used by Incas where one warp passes through another.  Finally, the long strip was stitched into a loop.

Is the work representational or abstract?
Abstract.  Although the sculptures are described as bags, they are a descendant of the bag forms Sue began creating around the time her mother died.  Over the years this theme developed and her sculptures became increasingly abstract as she discovered the practical and aesthetic advantages of suspending the structures.  The original vessel shape however can still clearly be identified in line.

Where did the designer derive their inspiration?
When she settled in the UK, her mother had sent gifts of Aboriginal string bags from Australia on request as they reminded Sue of the bags in Queensland Museum where she worked as an artist during her student years. She liked them as they were all different and showed a huge variety of knotted and looped techniques, that interested her as a weaver. On a practical level, they were a light and convenient to post from the other side of the world. During a trip to Pitt Rivers Museum in Oxford in 2003, Sue saw a bag that reminded her of a favourite from her own collection. The tag said 'Bag used for carrying bones of dead relatives' and this, along with her mother's death, triggered an idea for an upcoming exhibition in Victoria. She planned to express her Australian heritage in vessel forms similar in shape to the bag.  This current exhibition stems from her desire to develop the family history theme.  During her science degree, Sue studied genetics but this was an opportunity to learn more about her own ancestry. 

How would you describe it - decorative, expressive, functional or symbolic?
Symbolic.  Sue admits that she has never been interested in pattern or decoration.  It is structures, symbols and geometry that appeals to her.  Squares on the central panel represent decades. Some are split into triangles that symbolise the genes passed down from each parent. The weft yarn used in the construction of the triangle is either British or Australian, depending on the birthplace of the parent.  The size and position of the loops around the central panel indicate how many children the ancestor had and at what stage in their life.  The size, shade and position of the coloured triangles represent the longevity of the child, gender and birthplace, also those that are a direct ancestor of Sue.  The colours used are symbolic, such as the Australian yellow ochre dust that sinks in and represents the dry climate.   Although the sculptures in the exhibition are not functional themselves, the Aboriginal bags that inspired them were extremely so, with their numerous shapes and techniques, depending on the intended purpose.

This has been dusted with yellow ochre, therefore an Australian born ancestor

To what extent does the piece refer to tradition (technically or through images), another culture, a period of fashion:
The techniques are very traditional.  Hand spinning is a primitive art, natural dyes have been used to dye yarn for centuries, the looms are very basic and similar to those used in ancient civilizations and intersecting warps is a skill the Incas have used for thousands of years in hair braids.  It was interesting to read that, until this project unfolded, Sue was unaware that many of her own ancestors were 19th century weavers and woollen mill workers. Some lived and worked just a few miles from this museum.  The Aboriginal culture features mostly in the initial inspiration for the project, rather than the techniques, apart from using earth for colouring (they now use modern brightly coloured dyes that were first introduced by the pilgrims).  Sue says there are over 300 Aboriginal languages and a great deal of secrecy in the culture so it is difficult to prove many of the traditions actually existed.  However they were known to bury their dead relatives then later dig up the bones, so the tag on the bag may be correct.  It really could have been used for carrying them.  There is no reference to any period of fashion.

What qualities do you like or dislike about the piece?
I don't have any strong feelings about the pieces. It is the idea and the collection that I appreciate.  It was interesting to start to see some patterns giving clues about history by looking at the collection as a whole.  All the emigrations to Australia taking place in the nineteenth century for example.  You can also see subtle changes of shape over generations as the number of squares representing decades increase in line with life expectancy.  The bags all look similar but I like that the ancestor dictates the unique design of their own.  Once you understand the code, you can identify the bag from the person's story and vice versa so the pieces I was attracted to were those that suggested they had an interesting life story, whether it was a particularly long or short life, an emigration, children late in life or over many decades.  One of the bags I looked at represented Janet Bertha Uther, who did not have children until relatively late in life for her era.  Sue explained that Janet (her maternal grandmother) could not marry her pineapple farmer boyfriend until her disapproving parents had died, which was when Janet was 36.  Her husband's family apparently didn't think Janet was good enough for theiir son either!      

More information about Sue and her work can be found at http://www.suehileyharris.co.uk/.

After my visit, I booked to go on the workshop 'String and String Bags with Sue Hiley Harris'. Read how I got on here.

Research Point on Craft (cont'd) - Consider Why Craft-Produced Textiles Maintain a Place in our Society

I've been mulling a lot over the last few days about the task 'Consider why craft-produced textiles maintain a place in our society' and making notes as the thoughts come to me.  I wanted to have my own ideas clear before doing the suggested reading and internet research so I wouldn't be influenced by looking for the 'right answer'.  I reckoned that the reasons are similar for textiles as for any other craft.

I thought about why I paid an expert to restore my stained glass windows rather than replace them with plain glass double glazing.  The previous owner had done this round the back and after all it's far cheaper, more efficient at keeping out the draughts, easier to clean and lets in more light. However I love the way the morning light shines through the coloured glass and reflects on the walls and floor.  I could have had the original pattern reproduced in double glazing and the colours matched, but I found the colours were limited and without the subtlety of the original Edwardian glass.  There were none of the different textures that make my lovely rippled watery reflections.  The original charcoal coloured lead with it's lumps at the joins would be replaced by uniform, stark, black lines.  I know and like the irregularities and little defects like the bubbles in the glass, just as I have a fondness for my own little scars as they tell a story.  I felt like I would have compromised the integrity of my home by not taking care of what was originally there.  Also, having studied a City and Guilds in Stained Glass, I had an appreciation of the skill (and pain!) involved.  The thought of replacing something someone had spent hours making after years gaining skills seems almost cruel.

Saved!

  
A few weeks ago I laughed at a lady on T.V. who said she had a condition where she fell in love with objects.  I still think she's crazy but now I'm thinking there must be a bit of that in me too!  I am sentimental about those windows that have been there for over 100 years and have outlived and seen the antics of the families that have come and gone.  I'm not a big collector, but what is it that makes me scour charity shops or Ebay for hours looking for well-made things I like of no particular theme or era?  Why do I covet those Dale Chihuly art glass pieces and agree they are worth the tens of thousands of pounds they cost?  Generally the objects I like are not useful things, they were not made especially for me and I'm not interested whether they'll increase in value.  Yes, it is partly because I want to look at and touch beautiful things but I think it's more that I like to own something unique and that the pieces catch my eye because they evoke some sort of good memory in me, or represent the type of person I am.   Why then if I was rich, would I not pay that sort of money for a piece made by a machine?  It's the romance of knowing all these objects have a story behind them or the person who made them.  In the case of Chihuly, having a little part of someone who is living an incredible life.  Although I'll almost certainly never meet him, there is a relationship there. 

I wondered how much the artist wants that too.  Surely you wonder who wants your work and why.  I understand when Richard Wheater says he is disappointed when he receives a commission by e-mail and the client never visits or talks to him.  He doesn't get know what makes that person tick, or demonstrate how creative the medium can be - the vast range of colours and effects that can be achieved to really personalise the piece.  The contact and human element of the collaboration must be important for the artist too.   

I thought more about integrity and why it matters to preserve skills when machines can produce objects of increasingly high quality.  My Dad and I have been tracing our family tree for the last few years and we do sometimes question the point of finding out about the lives of long dead people!  It's not just because we uncover interesting stories, it's about finding about who we are, just as these crafts can be part of our heritage.  However, I know my feelings are not universal.  One of my friends doesn't give a monkeys about how her furnishings were made so long as her room looks nice.  Mark Sykes who I spoke to at Lotherton Hall the other week said he'd been asked to teach traditional beadwork to Native American students and a good proportion simply weren't interested in their heritage.  Reading about Chihuly's collection of Navajo blankets, he explains that the Indians would trade their exquisite handwoven blankets as they thought the bright colours and designs of the machine made Pendleton blankets more attractive.  On a practical level, they were warmer and one of their blankets bought several Pendletons.

Navajo Indian preferring the warmth of a machine-made blanket
http://www.chihuly.com/about-trade-blankets.aspx
© Dale Chihuly, used with permission of the artist

Researching Richard Wheater's work after the workshop visit, I found the philosophies behind his 'Them and Us' installation in 2009 particularly interesting.  He exhibited the story of his travels around the UK with a mobile furnace.  He made glass birds appropriate to the location (pigeons in London, sparrows in Sheffield etc) and 'blew life' into them, launching them into the air and photographing the moment he set them free.  Of course they crashed to earth and the remains were also exhibited.  I imagined horrified people diving with safety blankets trying to rescue the beautiful things.  These acts were a comment on the decline in glass and other manufacturing industries in the UK.  I suppose, like the birds, most were damaged but some survived better than others and many people would have spent their time desperately trying to salvage what they could from the industries.  Richard was also making points about having too many possessions in our throwaway culture, not appreciating craft skills and the importance of living and creating, not just the end product.                      

Surely it is also right to support people who have a talent and have made sacrifices to get to their level of expertise.  The course manual says, 'People working in the crafts rarely earn large amounts of money....'  Richard as an example is clearly very skilled and knowledgeable, well educated and successful with a string of awards for his talents yet still he has to take on work he doesn't particularly want, he says 'to keep the wolves from the door'.

If money or need is not what drives us to make things, what is?  For the last few years I've made my own preserves.  I like to think mine tastes better but in truth I could buy jam just as good and cheaper.  But no.  I have to grow or pick the fruit, then spend hours preparing and bottling it.  But why and how come I can give these offerings to my friends as presents and not a jar of Hartleys which is essentially the same thing?  I would not be impressed with a pair of socks from a chain store as a gift, even if they were pretty snuggly, but would be delighted if you sent me a hand knitted pair (anyone?).  I like to think this isn't snobbery, rather the importance of the human element and being able to personalise each part of the process.  I know my friend Vanessa likes her jam only just set and the particular proportions of berries.  Jill prefers just a few chillies in her chutney.  My father-in-law likes his marmalade quite bitter and my Dad likes a particular jar with a rim and little bubbles in the glass.  Hartleys may have their tasting panels but they don't know us personally.  Every stage of the process I can tweak and control from the variety of fruit I grow to the way it's packaged. 

Every year my girls give their teachers bramble jam at Christmas made from berries they pick from the hedgerows on the walk home from school.  They're always ripe at the start of the Autumn term so it's become an important ritual for our family.  The girls like to choose the jars and draw and write messages on the labels.  They choose fabric to cut and cover the top (they prefer blue gingham like their uniform), then they choose ribbon or string to tie and attach beads to the end.  Although the teachers are always delighted, I agree with Richard when he says the making is just as important as the end product.  

Making has it's frustrations but overall is therapeutic for me.  I remember a day in July when I was about to take the kids to school and I couldn't find my keys (house and car).  After half an hour of searching I rang my husband and it turned out he'd gone out with them as well as his own by mistake.  It was the first week of his new job, an hour's drive away, so he couldn't come home.  I found a key for the front door which we seldom used so I could at least get out but when I shut the door, the handle fell off in my hand!  So I was outside, unable to secure the house, the kids were already late for school which is a 2 mile up-hill walk away.  I was due at a friend's for lunch and a funeral of another friend's young husband in the afternoon, to which I had to carry 2 large cakes. 

You can imagine the kind of day.  Anyway, it was my fortnightly knitting group that night and I couldn't wait to get there.  I knew that everything would be so much better when I got there, and it was. I didn't need to tell anyone about the day (although I could have and everyone would have been sympathetic).  It was a combination of the company and the making itself that restored me - the rhythmic clicking of the needles, handling something soft and comforting....  I don't always know what the end product will be, the process itself and learning from it is as important.  At the moment I've been knitting 'a thing' with some variegated yarn just to see what the effect of the different stitches has on the colours.  People always seem disappointed when you can't say what you are making!