Reading – Elissa Auther: String Felt Thread

Auther, E. (2009) String Felt Thread: The hierarchy of art and craft in American art, Minneapolis & London: University of Minnesota Press

Point 1: I was way out of my depth for much of this book. I have no training in art history, and it would have been helpful to know about minimilist art, process art, post-minimilism, appropriation and installation art, and probably a whole lot more.

Point 2: I enjoyed reading this book very much. I learnt lots of things about stuff I was already interested in, and I learnt about lots of new things that now interest me. While reading I had debates with the author in my head, agreeing and disagreeing on points and maybe a few pages later changing my view and/or deepening my understanding. My copy of the book is like a porcupine with all the post-it notes sticking out.

With all of that, there’s no way I’ll be able to do justice to the book in writing about it. I’ll try to give my understanding of some of the points being made, then a few of my thoughts / questions / opinions (provisional, since I’m hoping they will evolve over time).

The book starts with an exhibition in New York in 1969 – Wall Hangings, organised by Mildred Constantine and Jack Lenor Larsen. It was ground-breaking, challenging the perception of weaving and the use of fibre as necessarily “craft” and impossible in “fine art”. It received one review in the national art press – negative. The work was decorative, engaging, not demanding. It was not art. It was less than art.

The book examines the distinction between art and craft, the history, the link to “women’s work”, the implications and changes in perception. It also examines the power and privilege involved in defining and policing “art”, and points out that art requires a not-art from which to distinguish itself.  The hierarchy of art above craft seems to begin in Western Art in the Renaissance, with fine arts (painting, music, poetry) valued more highly than mechanical arts (useful crafts like bricklaying and weaving). The materials used seem to be important, plus the utility or purpose, and perhaps whether it is agreeable or labour to produce it. At some point “decoration” became a negative and concept, inspiration and idea became all important.

On page xviii of the introduction there is a quote from art historian Terry Smith and the critical factors are:
Material – for art a vehicle, for craft “sacred”, a given.
Composition – for art an imposed purposeful arrangement of imagery, for craft surface effect.
Purpose – communicating something of significance versus production of a useful object.
For the recipient – cognitive and related to sight (optic), compared to the significance of touch (haptic) in a craft work.

String Felt Thread examines and questions all of this, focusing on the changing status of fibres and textiles in art in the 1960s, 70s and beyond, and looking at the experiences of artists (artisans?) using fibre in fibre art, process or postminimalist art, and feminist art. It also touches briefly on other movements or spheres in fibre art such as weavers and designers with connections to the textile industry and the designer-craftman model of the Bauhaus; a popular revival of craft in the US in the 1960s (think macramé); the rise of the counterculture…

Sheila Hicks, Barbara Shawcroft, Lenore Tawney and Claire Zeisler are among those used to illustrate “fibre artists”. They used fibre as a material, often in large scale off-loom works, and disregarding connotations such as utility and domesticity. Their work at times existed in a a kind of limbo between art and craft – aspiring to one, perceived as the other. I’m missing out a lot of information and nuances, but I think Auther posits that in challenging the definitions of Art to include constructs using fibre, the fibre art movement actually accepted the validity of the Art hierarchy – they wanted to be included in it, but were met with frequent rejection by curators and critics and seen as acting in the realm of textiles and craft, not sculpture, painting and Art.

In contrast, there were established artists who began to use fibre in their work in the postminimilism movement. Robert Morris did extensive sculptural work made of industrial felt. His existing reputation as an artist and his published articles and essays concerning his work allowed the acceptance of that work as Art. The intellectual content shielded any negative connotations from textiles and fibre. A critical difference seems to be that Morris in his work might choose to address issues of femininity, whereas for many fibre artists their femininity was intrinsic. Eva Hesse was another artist who had sufficient credibility and connections to avoid the suggestion of craft in her work.

Artists in the feminist movement challenged the negative associations of craft. They recognised the connection of the art – craft hierarchy to the social hierarchies of gender and race. They identified with the history of fibre art, and the anonymous or amateur women who produced it. However there could be a divide between regard for the possibly idealised past and the attitude towards current non-artist female textile crafters, who didn’t necessarily appreciate the need to be rescued from any low status. Auther personalises and focuses her review by examining the works of individual feminist artists – Faith Ringgold, Miriam Schapiro, Harmony Hammond and Judy Chicago. Regarding the latter’s work The Dinner Party Auther writes “… the work stands as an emblem of the feminist embrace of craft as the antithesis of elitist art and the problems associated with feminists’ appropriating the language and materials of women’s craft while insisting on their own status as noncraftspeople”. The distinction of art and craft was not the particular materials or techniques used, but whether they were used to express meaning, or the process was an end in itself.

In her conclusion Auther brings the book to present day practices and concerns. Fibre is now accepted as as material used in Art. The social and cultural meaning of textiles can also be included in artistic examination, although possibly in an ironic approach (in contrast to the Martha Stewart style use of craft).

Finally, I recommend you click here, to go to a post on the University of Minnesota Press blog which includes a short video of Auther talking about her work.

A fairly random selection of my thoughts:

I don’t agree that an object which is useful cannot be appreciated for its aesthetic qualities.

I think there’s an awful lot of painting between the Renaissance and the twentieth century that would generally be regarded as Art but was basically decorative, not about concepts. Also those working in fibres and textiles can explore a wide variety of materials (eg today I spent with heat gun, soldering iron and plastics (I think? tyvek and lutrador)). I don’t accept fibre work is more personally limiting in material terms than say those who prefer to stick with canvas and oil paint.

I value the technique and skill of traditional craftwork and feel strongly about the preservation of craft (see blog post here).

Considering the thought, decision-making and calculations involved in producing high quality woven work I don’t see it as non-intellectual or rote work.

The whole feminist slant on art <–> craft is tricky and only works with a narrow view on fibre crafts where women dominate in participant numbers. What about ceramics, or blacksmithing or … (the list goes on).

Drawing a line on a continuum can be bad / random / subjective enough, but art <–> craft is not a nice neat two dimensional line, but a complex, multi-dimensional space.

Boundaries are about exclusion and inclusion, about access and resources and acknowledgement and value and saleability. My preference is not to move them (the boundaries) but to … I don’t know, not rise above them but make them irrelevant. The same with hierarchies although I guess in honesty I do see a hierarchy because I prefer conscious, thinking, serious (in the sense of being serious about it, not that it can’t be funny or lighthearted), honest work.

I’d like to make conscious, thinking, serious, personal, honest work. I’d like it to communicate, be meaningful, be beautiful  – though not necessarily all those things all the time. I couldn’t honestly say if Art or Craft would be more important.

(Not an OCA) Textile Study Visit

OCA frequently runs study visits for students in various disciplines. Last month Lizzy wrote an exciting post here, about a Textiles Study visit to Whitworth Gallery in Manchester led by tutors Liz Smith and Pat Hodson. It sounded wonderful, with preparation and tasks and group discussion. I was very jealous. It’s 30 years since I was last in the UK and I can’t see a trip happening any time soon, so no study visits for me (cue mournful music).

Trying to content myself by living vicariously I read the various forum posts of students on the visit. I also contacted Lizzy and OCA, and Liz Smith was happy to send me her briefing notes, visit plan and a sheet on a Critical Approach to viewing works of art.

Then Claire and I came up with a Plan – we would have our own Textile Study Visit.

Today we met up in the city, and caught a ferry over to Manly on the north shore (note yellow and green ferry plus fortuitous rainbow). Our destination was the Manly Art Gallery and Museum which currently has three textile-related exhibitions showing. Contemporary Quilt Textiles is a biennial juried exhibition, a collaboration between the Gallery and the Quilters’ Guild of NSW. The Gallery is running a number of events in conjunction with the exhibition, so Claire and I timed our Visit to include a discussion on narrative threads in contemporary textile art by Australian textile artists Liz Williamson, Cecillia Heffer and Paula do Prado.

The exhibition theme is Regeneration, and Manly Art Gallery has provided a downloadable pdf of the catalogue on their website (here, if the link still works). This was particularly handy because it meant Claire and I could Prepare, and I even wrote up some briefing notes and Tasks with timings and options, drawing heavily on Liz  Smith’s notes (Claire was kind enough not to laugh at the instruction “Get together with the rest of the group members”). With information from the catalogue I was even able to give a choice of themes, and since I thought that was pretty good for an outing for two, I’ll share:

Theme 1: The stories behind the works. From the catalogue: “We know there is heightened public interest in the stories behind the material object – who made it, how, why and with what intent – for whom?” The exhibition has “creative process displays [which] complement and enrich the primary display of the finished art quilts”.

How is this done? Is it successful? Should artworks speak for themselves, giving space for the viewer to participate in giving meaning to the work?

Theme 2: regeneration.  A variety of general approaches/responses to the exhibition theme were identified based on information in the catalogue – the human condition; the natural world (fiery regeneration and Other); process/technique. Select one of these for further investigation.

Do the works identified actually fit the sub-theme? What are the differences in approach within a theme? Does one of the works particularly appeal to you or appear more successful? Why? Use the Critical Approach list to examine that work.

Theme 3: technique. The catalogue highlights the use of computer technology and in particular photography and image manipulation. There is also a wide range traditional textile techniques, some of which may have been applied in new ways or to new materials. Select one or two works which demonstrate these trends and contrast their approaches.

Theme 4: narrative threads in textile art.  Based on material in the catalogue or your own scanning of the exhibition, select one or more works which illustrate the use of narrative threads in textile arts. Use the Critical Approach list to examine the work in more detail. Consider the nature of the narrative and how well you feel it has been communicated in the work.

The gallery staff were incredibly friendly and helpful. In general photography is not permitted in the exhibition, but they allowed us to take general photos of the rooms as long as we didn’t focus on particular works. Later when we wanted to spend some time focusing on our Selected works, they fetched chairs for us, and even offered a cup of tea at one point.
We started by going around the two rooms of the exhibition, getting a general impression and choosing one work in each room for detailed study.

The tables you see in this photo contain the “creative process displays” which are intended to “complement and enrich” viewing of the finished art works (quotes are from the catalogue). I had mixed feelings about these. I found it hard not to look at the process displays before spending time with the actual works. There was a lot of variation in the contents – I think the artists had mixed opinions too.
The first piece I focused on was Black Water #32: into the light… by Judy Hooworth. It’s the diptych right of centre, a light colour piece over a brownish one. (Check the catalogue pdf – link above – for a better photo). I sat with it a long time, considering content, form, process and mood as suggested by the Critical Approach notes. The amount of information available in the catalogue and process display was almost too much. For example while I was attracted to the scribbly swirls of the work I didn’t see them as abstract – they were clearly representational of the ripples of water in the rain. I might have wondered about ecological concerns being expressed, not knowing of the artist’s personal journey of grief and loss expressed through depiction of a favourite location. In the talks later both Cecillia Heffer and Paula do Prado spoke about works that were private. They still made the work, but chose not to include imagery, instead allowing their audience to find their own story and meaning in the work. Cecillia described it as gaps, silences and unanswered questions in another’s story.

Originally I had thought my timetable for the day allowed ridiculous amounts of time, but after intense focus on just one piece I was ready for lunch. Claire and I walked back to Manly Wharf for some very nice thai food, and a great chat about our assignment work and what everyone’s doing (all the student blogs really help in feeling part of the student community).

I’ve added some photos of the plantlife around, just for some local colour.

After lunch we returned to focus on a work in the second room. However we didn’t have much time before people started arriving for the scheduled talks. An advantage was that I could take a photo of an individual artwork. This is Toni Valentine with her work Regenerating Colour.

The speakers were all interesting. Cecillia Heffer illustrated her talk with a series of slides of her works, but rather than commenting on them directly she read from letters she wrote and received while developing them. Lace is her major focus, organising spaces as well as the solid motif, and she talked about the gaps and spaces of our homeland, of absences and immigration. Paula do Prado has just completed her Masters at COFA. An immigrant to Australia she talked about inclusion and exclusion, about cloth as an archive and capturing the family history and knowledge she fears losing.

Liz Williamson started by saying that every textile has a story attached, even the (very ordinary) tablecloth on the speakers’ table. She talked about textiles reflecting a peoples’ attitude to the world, for example in an area of India where weaving is predominantly men’s work, and embroidery women’s. A later slide showed Xanana Gusmão around the time East Timor gained its independence, wearing a scarf woven on a backstrap loom – a particular cloth, woven in a particular way, using particular motifs. The meaning, the sense of place and time that a textile can give!

Overall I feel our first Study Visit was fun, worthwhile and exhausting. It’s a strange approach to scan the works as a whole and then focus deeply on just a few. I think that Claire and I to some extent both felt we were somehow not showing full respect to those artists whose work we didn’t concentrate on. However I wouldn’t have the time or stamina to give that level of attention to all. By making selections I was able to clarify some of my own interests and objectives, as well as gain a deeper appreciation of those works. I definitely want to use the Critical Approach again, but probably with some rebalancing of time so I have a bit more of a general understanding and appreciation of the exhibition as a whole.

Project 6 Stage 2

Developing Ideas.

Despite (or because of) past difficulties I really like the way this course is structured – new skills are being introduced, but plenty of practice is given to earlier ones. In this case that means selecting drawings or other source material and considering ways to develop or change them.

This drawing done last October has nice flowing lines and contrasts of texture.
The obvious development was to add colour, and for that I went to a recent photo sneaked of a woman’s shirt in the bus.
In this muddle I tried a few variations – from squiggles to little blocks of colour, gray and/or bits of orange in the negative spaces, different amounts of outline dividing up the space. While doing this I was thinking about how it could be converted into a textile – adding shiny and matt, some textural interest in the negative space etc. It would be better to focus on what is in front of me, not rushing ahead.
Next were these rhythmic, flowing lines from Mark-making in Project 1.
For contrast, I added the spikey weed flowerheads sketched earlier in the week.The sketch also has vertical lines, but they are more eccentric, individual and uneven.
Again, the new sketch doesn’t really capture my intention. I wanted a striped effect (I’ve been noticing and enjoying stripes in scarves lately), but further work is definitely required.
Recently I took this photo (altered in gimp) of some fruit, after a lack-lustre drawing effort.

I tried to capture colours and textures, which had some interest but I started wondering if the underlying lines and shapes were as strong as I first thought.

The photo of the first sketch looks better now than it did at the time (not an uncommon occurrence!), but at the time I changed focus in a monochromatic version. I still think there is potential here, so will probably return to it at some point.
Next I decided to try some computer work. I keep coming back to this bird shape, started in the class with Peter Griffen. I tried all sorts of computer manipulation, tiling, kaleidoscope… nothing. This attempt was meant to be a play on “love birds”, but the grouchy eyes in the middle don’t work well with that!
Finally I tried the spikey weeds again, playing with scale and line.

This is a combination of a greatly magnified section of the weed sketch, overlaid by some of the leaf and stalk lines in one of my photos.

I like the contrast of scale and the syncopated rhythm of the lines.

The next step in Stage 2 was to start playing with fabric, experimenting with overlapping sheers, combining textures, altering surfaces, then moving on to make a few small collages of fabric.

In my first attempt I stayed with the weedy flowers theme.

The base is an off-cut of some felt, and the green fibres make a good background for the theme. The flowers are all slightly different – silk organza, with some glittery fabrics underneath or on top to bring some light to the piece. I like the balance of colour – the touches of purple aren’t hugely obvious, but they add some variety and depth. The uneven top started in necessity – I’d obviously cut a piece off in the past – but I added to it and I think it brings a liveliness to the work. I’m pleased with this one – bright, quirky and cheerful.

Next I decided to use the bird motif. It stubbornly refuses to be part of a larger design, but I like it so much I really wanted to use it at least once.

The background is a silk and hemp mix fabric I dyed some years ago. I think both colour and design suggest feathers, but in lines that contrast with the curves of the actual bird. The trim used to form the line of the bird was dyed in an ATASDA class with Lynne Britten from Batik Oetoro. The central feathers were originally a wax resist silk painting of boab trees against a sunset (a class with Robyn Carver when I first started playing with textiles 10 or so years ago). The eye is felt, with some silver lamé behind to bring some light and sparkle, and there’s some black tulle on the body of the bird to give it a bit more definition. I love all the memories that making this brought, but I don’t think the result is very exciting. It feels rather static.

I returned to the colour scheme from the shirt photo near the top and combined it with my current interest in stripes. This is a mixture of ribbons, and the black is from a roll of material from the hardware store, intended for tying up plants. I like the result. The various reds work well with the dull yellow-green of the background. To my eyes the size and spacing of the stripes looks balanced and interesting.

This is the disastrous one.

I wanted to experiment with overlapping colours in sheers. I had “matching” sheers – a shot red/blue with red stitching and a shot blue/red with blue stitching. I wove with them, some fuchsia, and a blue tulle which was scrunched up to give varied density of colour. There was meant to be contrast of straight lines and curves, pattern and plain, interesting mixes of colour… It just looked a mess. I tried layering it over lots of different fabrics, trying to find something that would provide interest, variety and cohesion. In the end the best of the bunch was an old silk painting, swirls of pink and purple. Blah.

Finally I wanted to try working in monochrome. The basic design here is very static, but I tried to vary it with a series of experiments using some hessian. I think this worked well, giving a balance of structure with variety and interest. The small  spots of texture in the black rectangles contrasts with the squares of the background. Hessian copes well with having threads removed and the different density of cover adds to the overall effect. It reminds me of a picnic table, set with nice treats for the eyes!

Edited to add: I was putting things away and realised I missed one of my design attempts.

This was a development of some sketching based on feathers done in January, and obviously was itself the basis for the hessian picnic!

 

Project 6 Stage 1

It’s Sunday night after a busy weekend – the normal domestic stuff, a day at the Art Gallery enjoying all the special events celebrating the reopening and new hand of the Australian Galleries and (drumroll…) a start on Project 6 – a rush of sketching (starting a new stetchbook page here), through Stage 1 and most of Stage 2.

Project 6 is all about Manipulating Fabric (applied fabric techniques and Raised and structured surface textures). Stage 1 is Preparation – basically preparing some space, sorting fabric into colour groups, and pinning up samples of each type and colour.
My fabric stash is mostly bits and pieces I’ve dyed, scraps from past projects and short lengths bought for various classes. I sorted it into colour groups earlier in the course – a small tub each for the primary and secondary colours, plus some containers for neutrals and multi-coloured. Each tub has a jumble of fabric, a bag of threads, plus two bags of “snippets” (at the front of the photo)- bits of fabric and thread that are too small for anything much on their own, but may be Just Right for something one day.

At first I wasn’t going to do the cutting samples and pinning on a board bit, but then I remembers to Let Go and Trust The Process. Rather than getting lost in all the small bits I focused on synthetic sheers, and was rather surprised at the range I had. I’d have said I was a natural fibres gal. These are the ones where I had a reasonable amount  – say 40cm or more.

I’ve also taken a look along the bookshelves and reading over the next few weeks will be:

Wolff, C. (1996) The Art of Manipulating Fabric, Krause Publications. This is on the course list, but I actually bought (and part read!) a few years back.

Beaney, J. & Littlejohn, J. (1999) Bonding and Beyond, Double Trouble Enterprises. Purchased last year for the course.

McGehee, L.F. (1998) Creating texture with textiles, Krause Publications.

Beal, M. (2005) Fusing fabric: creative cutting, bonding and mark-making with the soldering iron, B T Batsford

The books I’ve paused over but left on the shelf relate to creating fabric with texture, through weaving and felting. Definitely extracurricular – but so much potential. Clicking on the thumbnail of a cream scarf in collapse weave will take you to my post in October 2009 with all the detail.

The felting on the right was done in pre-blog days – the small orange/green bowl in a class with Jorie Johnson. Tempting – but most definitely not at the price of another 6 month marathon assignment!

Assignment 2 Reflective Commentary

I began work on Assignment 2 in early November 2011 – six months ago. Over the past week I’ve been selecting work to send to my tutor, making three neat folders to represent six months of work. It’s interesting to look back at earlier project work when it has become less familiar to me. It’s been with me so long I’m having trouble letting go!

There is a huge amount of work in the assignment – colour, design, printing and painting. From blogs and student forums I know others have struggled with Assignment 2. I’ve found the work interesting and challenging, it’s all material I want to learn – but I’ve found it hard not to panic at times, feeling I’m not making progress. Possibly OCA should consider rebalancing the division into assignments, given I’ve heard that other Assignments are considerably lighter (they need to be if I’m to finish within the two years!).

After Project 3 I am even more aware of colour combinations and their impact. I enjoy colour mixing in paints and dyes. Stitching I find more unpredictable and harder to adjust, with additional considerations of texture, shadows, direction of light etc. I think it was worthwhile to work in both hand and machine stitching.

I found Project 4: Developing Design Ideas very challenging. I was often grinding through, almost trying too hard. In the end I was pleased with some of my results, but I don’t feel I have developed a strong working method in designing – the beginnings are there, but unless I am careful I easily fall into old habits. Having said that, I feel I am building a personal vocabulary of images and themes that are beginning to recur in my work. Without wanting to limit myself, I think this can be a strength if I continue to develop the material, almost working in series.

My initial approach to Project 5: Painting and Printing was methodical, building up a resource library of different fabrics printed and painted using the same techniques. Later I was able to experiment more freely with technique and design, and was very excited by some of the results achieved.

In every stage of the course I’ve been challenged by the need to balance breadth versus depth of experimentation. In general I have probably erred on the side of taking ideas further rather than quickly trying a wider range of things. For example I wonder if my large jug printing in project 5 stage 4 is too similar to the orange/black scribble – a blocky effect, reduced palette, positive and negative versions of motifs. However there are significant differences in design and technique and I feel it shows I have developed and extended ideas.

Often I found I had to break work down into smaller steps. If I am trying to think about and learn too many things at once I can get overwhelmed. However in the end I think I was able to meet the major objectives.

Throughout the assignment I’ve continued working in my sketchbook, going to exhibitions and reading. I feel I am looking around myself each day in a different way. I’m definitely interested in formal assessment and continuing development.

Project 5 Review

I covered aspects of this review in my post on Stage 5, when pushing last weekend to finish Assignment 2 before the end of April. I now feel a bit more is needed to support the work I’m sending in for tutor review. It leads to repetition in blogging, but more clarity in Assignment presentation.

Selection and interpretation of design material: I was able to select a range of design material from sketchbooks and earlier assignment work. Different elements were developed as stencils, stamps, resists and also in a more spontaneous way with the perspex printing plates. The most successful was the black/orange ink scribble, which combined with the technique I chose to give a lot of room for energy and spontaneity while doing the actual printing. The colours used were also well suited to graphic 2D printing. The tutankhamen design led to some of the best and the weakest work. Interpreted as two stamps, positive and negative, it allowed development of some interesting designs. However I found my initial work reproducing the fully developed design so flat and boring that I didn’t continue. Possibly I’ve just overused that design, but also it would be more interesting with extra dimension – perhaps some stitching to develop the background, and the columns appliqued or padded.

Fabric choice: I used a range of fabrics in my initial experiments – natural and man-made fibres, a range of textures. In later work I gravitated to cotton and silk, most often with smooth surfaces. Using dyes on silk allowed me to maintain the hand and sheen of the fabric. Touch is an important part of my response to cloth and when using the textile paints I preferred the samples which didn’t become too stiff. The more transparent fabrics have a lot of potential for overlaying, creating more complex imagery. This is definitely something I want to explore.

Scale, spacing, contrast and harmony: In the initial set of fabric tests my focus was on the marks made using different application methods on different fibres and textures. In all the other sampling I was aware of positive and negative space forming as I worked. The shell stencil repeat wasn’t as successful in practice as in my earlier development work. I wanted a bold print, but the paint was rather thick and stiff. The spacing between rows of printing wasn’t right – I think slightly closer lines would have been more interesting. Also I would prefer either more randomness in placement or less. It just looks a little sloppy.

The tutankhamen-based stamps were particularly successful – the effort of producing two matching stamps was worthwhile and gave a lot of opportunities in building up designs and in combining multiple colours. In the two larger samples – the scribble and the jug – I was able to get positive and negative motifs by using the ink remaining on the silk screen and print plates. This has additional benefits in providing different amounts of coverage and so intensity of colour.

Success of larger sample: This is covered in detail in my post of 26 April. There are specific aspects I really like, but it doesn’t quite work as a finished piece.

Other comments: I was fairly narrow in my printing and painting experimentation. My major focuses were different ways of applying fabric paints to mainly natural fibres, and attempts to use thickened lanaset dyes on silk, with a tiny amount of inktense pencils and fabric markers and crayons. I concentrated more on the range of marks and textures I could achieve. As with other parts of the course I was only able to scratch the surface and make a start.

To an extent I was building on previous experience – in class situations I’ve used indigo, various dyes for cellulose fabrics (procion, drimarene K), dye discharge (that one at home too, using TUD), disperse dyes and bleach. I’m also enrolled in an ATASDA workshop using disperse dyes later in the year. More importantly I think, I feel confident about being able to extend my skills with other materials and techniques, using all the different sources of information available and my own experimentation. Rust dyeing in particular could fit with a theme of memory and aging.

One major difficulty for me has been energy levels and the poor choices I make when tired. For example one day I didn’t feel up to original work and instead washed a bundle of samples. It was a bad choice not to sew over the edges of the more loosely woven fabrics but at least I thought briefly about it – unlike how unwise it was to wash black and white samples together. I was lucky that nothing ran badly, and some concentrated work with a clothes brush fixed the rest. Another day I’d just put my orange/black scribble fabric in a bowl of water when I realised I hadn’t ironed to fix the textile paint! Fortunately it had been pinned on a notice board for a few weeks and there was virtually no runoff.

There were two highlights during the project for me. The first was the work with perspex plates on the orange/black scribble. The whole process from selection of design material, through figuring out techniques and materials, to actually producing the sample went really well, with a good balance of preparation and spontaneity. The second was resolving the problems I had with the thickened dye paste. I still haven’t been able to make good use of a gelatin plate, but I was able to adjust my methods to get effective results.

Reading

While going through all my Assignment 2 material for a final Reflective Commentary and then package it all up for snail mail (yay!!!) I realised I haven’t written about these two books.

Klein, Bernat (1965) Eye for Colour, Bernat Klein, Scotland and Collins, London.

Bernat Klein, a textile designer with an absolute passion for colour, used his autobiography to explain not only himself, but his theories about the nature and importance of design and colour. He was born in 1923 in Yugoslavia and was involved in textiles from an early age, as his parents owned and operated a textile wholesale business. Textiles and clothing – quality, colour, style and presentation -  were always important. The story of his journey from Yugoslavia to Jerusalem to Leeds in Britain to Galashiels Scotland, from religious student to Art School to textile technology at university was interesting in itself, but really a backdrop or preamble.

For Klein, “for those who can speak the language of colour it can express the whole gamut of human emotions” (p51). He argues that colour has been liberated, moving from symbolic use in ancient times to being a vital part of a richer, fuller, more civilised life. Artworks by Turner, Monet, Klee and others are illustrated and discussed in support of these ideas.

Klein has some strong views about the importance of well-trained textile designers to take advantage of and further this evolution – his program of study is quite ambitious and may have been overtaken by changes over the years. I also found his analysis of eye colour to guide colour choice in clothing rather dated. On the other hand his call to teach the young to consume intelligently (p. 94) is very current, as is the approach he took in his textile mill: “For a young, smallish firm to make its impact it must rely on brains rather than brawn, brilliant design ideas rather than quantity of output and turnover” (p 114).

The brilliant design is definitely there. Klein would start the process with an end use in mind. When a clear image emerged, often based on one of his own paintings, he would consider raw materials, equipment and processes. He would then work on constructing the yarn, being innovative in both materials and dye process. Finally there is the weave structure – often fairly simple, and the same structure looking very different due to the unique and unusual yarns and ribbons used in them.

The book finishes with large, detail photos of six fabrics, each with the painting that inspired them and a few paragraphs of text. These are wonderful. The fabrics are so complex you really need the closeup to appreciate them, and it is so interesting to be able to trace the original image in the final fabric.

Klein’s fabrics were very successful and influential, being used in designs by Chanel, Dior and Yves St Laurent.

My description above is very dry and dusty and has sucked the joy and colour and vibrant life out of Klein’s book and work, so I urge you to follow some of the links below and see for yourself.

Resources

All these links were accessed 28 April 2012.

http://nordarchitecture.com/projects/bernat-klein/. A series of photographs from an exhibition at the Scott Gallery, Hawick Museum August – October 2005. These are the best images of Klein’s work that I found on the internet.

http://blog.fidmmuseum.org/museum/2009/09/bonnie-cashin.html. The subject of this page is clothing designer Bonnie Cashin. It includes photos of a coat made using fabric designed by Bernat Klein. There’s a very good closeup photo – not my favourite fabric, but it does show the complexity of the component yarns used.

http://www.scotsman.com/the-scotsman/features/interview-bernat-klein-textile-designer-1-1987390. This interview by Jackie McGlone was published in The Scotsman 28 November 2011.

http://www.saltspringweaving.com/blog/?p=411 Weaving and an exhibition inspired by Bernat Klein’s work. The author, Terry Bibby, does beautiful Saori weaving.

http://www.craftrevival.org/voiceDetails.asp?Code=47 KAUL, EKTA KHOKHAR, Innovation in Creative Industry. This page includes some closeups of Klein’s textiles. There are also some interesting comments on the challenges facing the Scottish textile industry and innovation in traditional crafts.

http://thevintagetraveler.wordpress.com/2009/05/21/bernat-klein-photos-by-arthur-massey/ This post has photographs by Arthur Massey of a young Klein at work, and some of the garments created using Klein’s textiles.

http://www.nms.ac.uk/about_us/about_us/press_office/press_releases/2011/klein_acquisition.aspx. National Museums Scotland has acquired Klein’s archive – this is the press release from November 2011.

Reading Klein’s book while working on Assignment 2 was very well-timed for me. While general and widely applicable, the course so far has used stitch and surface design as particular textile techniques. I’ve sometimes wondered how much the sketchbook work could feed into weaving design. Now I have a really clear example of how work in other areas, in this case specifically painting, can underpin weave design.

I should point out there’s a project later in the course on Woven Structures – I haven’t read ahead in the notes, but I’m mildly nervous about pushing myself out of standard weaver mode into a more expressive and innovative exploration. I need to remember the importance of the yarn, specific yarns created for a specific image and purpose. While typing this I realised an article I read last week in Textile The journal of cloth and culture is also relevant.

Harper, Catherine and McDougall, Kirsty, “The very recent fall and rise of Harris Tweed”, in Textile, Volume 10, Issue 1, pp. 78-99.

The article tells a wider story, but of interest to me here is the importance of the wool, dyed in a huge range of colours then mixed before spinning to create complex, subtle colouring expressive of the land, sky and sea of the Outer Hebrides. The colour blending is one of the most skilled tasks in the process of making the tweeds.  A rationalisation by a mill owner has put into jeopardy supply of the yarns, and so of most traditional tweeds. Another of many challenges in rejuvenating the harris tweed industry is introducing colours from other environments, in particular Glasgow urban.

I’ve got rather carried away here and this post is long, but I do want to mention briefly another (fairly) recent read – Pattern, colour & form: new approaches to creativity by Carolyn Genders. This beautifully illustrated book starts by reviewing a range of themes and approaches in design – abstraction; colour; line, structure and form; memory and place; play; size, scale and space; texture, surface and pattern.

The second part of the book has sections on eighteen artists. In different levels of detail we learn about each artist’s background, inspiration, design process, and particular concepts and concerns. Illustrations include source material, sketch books and works in progress as well as finished pieces. There are a wide range of disciplines used – textiles, glass, metal, ceramics, photography etc – textiles in particular being very well represented. We have Jeanette Appleton, textile artist; Jane Arkwright, whose experience as a textile artists influences her current painting; Jackie Binns uses basket weaving techniques in her artwork and has a “sketch box” of small samples. Without exhaustively naming them all, many of the artists use techniques traditionally associated with textiles in their work, even if the materials used and application of the technique is decidedly non-traditional. The design process is interesting in any medium, but I think the textile slant made this book particularly approachable for me.

This is a lovely book. I read it some months ago, before I started the design section of  Assignment 2, but flipping through it now I think it would be interesting to revisit. The reading pile only ever seems to grow!

 

Klein, Bernat (1965) Eye for Colour, Bernat Klein, Scotland and Collins, London.

Harper, Catherine and McDougall, Kirsty, “The very recent fall and rise of Harris Tweed”, in Textile, Volume 10, Issue 1, pp. 78-99.

Genders, Carolyn (2009) Pattern, colour & form: new approaches to creativity, London: A&C Black Publishers

Project 5 Stage 4

Lanaset dyes printed on silk (felting paj). Printed area 44 cm wide x 52 cm high.

This final stage of the project asked for a larger sample, a repeating pattern and/or a “single unit” piece – a design complete in itself. I felt I’d done enough repeating work already, so just went for the contained design.

The subject is a jug that’s been passed down through the family and I now have on permanent loan from mum. It’s appeared on this blog before – it was the subject of my very first OCA sketchbook page here, and blogged here.

There was a quick profile sketch then a paper cutout in March, which was used as a stencil resist in the orange and black scribble printed fabric that I was very excited about here.

Focused work on this iteration began on April 16, which I’m amazed to find is only 10 days ago – it feels I’ve been living with this much longer! A day by day, blow by blow description of the development process is in the sketchbook beginning here.

Apart from the obvious of wanting to meet course requirements, I was interested in extending the work previously done. The printing on silk I’d done in Stage 3 led to some interesting overlapping images and had me thinking about the nature of memory and images from the past. The process had also highlighted some technical issues in terms of size of prints I could achieve. I felt the use of perspex plates seen in the scribble print could help with that.

After a couple of quick sketches I settled into the practicalities – for example to keep on shape and the squares on a grid I would have my printing surface, then a full-scale printout of the vase silhouette complete with a printed 5cm grid, covered by clear plastic; then creating lots of paper resists and playing with placement.

This blog post by fellow OCA student Lucie stopped me in my tracks. I’d forgotten the design process. I hadn’t explored options, I hadn’t focused in on interesting areas, I hadn’t tried different media. I’d had an idea and I’d set about making it happen. <– Note the full stop.

Worse the idea was so literal – a jug plonked down in the centre of the image.

I’m being a bit harsh on myself. There had been play with collage materials, even if it hadn’t proceeded to making a collage. There was work to be shown in conte crayons and pencils, plus on the computer. A work by Picasso that I’d seen in the recent exhibition at the NSW Art Gallery was in my mind (Man with a Mandolin, 1911 – a photo is included in this article) which I remembered as having a central focus, but I looked in the catalogue(*) and read a bit about analytic cubism (**), then felt pretty foolish. Rather worse was when I noticed the wall mural in the supermarket carpark – blocks of colour, overlapping silhouettes…

I tried a quick idea of some kind of still life (thinking about Cézanne this time, and a little sketch thing I did here) but my heart wasn’t in it. Apart from anything else I was curious – would the ideas I had so far work?

After all the preparation and thinking, in the end it came together quickly. I had a printing session yesterday afternoon, then when I went to continue the work this morning I decided it was enough. None of the additional ideas I had would make it better – just different. Now having steamed and washed and ironed and pinned it up on a board and sat looking at it a while I can see heaps of flaws and problems and things to do better, some specific things I wish I hadn’t done – but overall I’m very pleased with it.

Some specific areas for reflection suggested in the course notes:

Selection of design material: The designs I selected back here were shells, Tutankhamen inspired, ink scribble and bird. The ink scribble worked best – it had a strong graphical element which worked well with the stamping technique. I also enjoyed the liveliness and flexibility it offered. I did a lot of stencilling with the shell design. It was reasonably effective, but unsatisfying in that I didn’t develop it further in the process. That’s in part due to the nature of repeating patterns – design and plan up front, repeat as accurately as possible thereafter.

My favourite tutankhamen design didn’t work out. I didn’t like the dye-paste print on the silk that I had in mind, and more importantly I think I’ve used the design enough for a while at least. On the other had I was able to use elements from it as stamp motifs and they worked nicely (they were the basis of the overlapping example shown above).

Although not on the list the jug has appeared repeatedly in my work to date. My use of it also built on the scribble technique and the layering achieved with the tutankhamen column motif. Overlapping and fractured images fit with my ideas about ageing and memory – topics that I’m considering exploring as a theme later in the course. The jug is part of family history, family memory, and it has a range of seemingly unrelated motifs jumbled around on it. I think this works well with the techniques used.

Fabrics chosen: I tend towards natural fibres and in particular I love silk in all its guises. It’s partly the simple “natural = good” message, although I don’t hold to that in dyeing. Silk is special. It dyes easily, takes colour well, generally feels good whether satin smooth or raw and slubby or crisp in organza. It seems to generate or amplify light.

For the final stage I chose a very light felting paj. It gave the most interesting patterning in my sampling and has a beautiful gleam. I have vague notions of using some of the ideas in nuno felting in the future. Finally, it’s light and postage limitations are always a consideration for the course. I did consider some heavier silks, but the habutai just looked a bit bland and I thought a textured silk wouldn’t work well as an interpretation of a glazed ceramic.

Scale, spacing, contrast and harmony: The scales of the marks and shapes work well in the piece. The individual motifs vary in size providing variety and additional interest.

The fabric itself is well suited to the project, as discussed above, but in this form is not really practical. It is too lightweight for durability in most applications. If used in felting I would expect loss and distortion of the image – which of course has its own potential.

When I decided the piece was finished I thought there was a good balance of shapes across the design – not even, but balanced. Now I see it finished and pinned vertically some areas that I thought were restful and interesting white space don’t really work. In particular the space in the left background near the handle is too large and it would probably have been better to indicate the narrow area near the foot more clearly – or at least one side of it. However I am very happy with the overlaying of images and colours, the positive and negative shapes formed and the complexity of image I achieved.

Soon after beginning work I changed my mind about how to handle the definition of the edge between jug and background. My original intention during planning was to use masks all around the edge, but I was concerned that this would make the overall shape too obvious and literal. I decided to cut off rectangles with a sharp angle when crossing the boundary, giving a kind of pixilated-on-large-scale edge, then define some areas with an added line. I thought this would make an interesting contrast of geometric and organic shapes. In practice I found the diagonal cuts jarring, and felt the complexity of the decoration would work better with a smooth, curving boundary. The early cuts are still there of course. I think it was a good choice to change.

The top of the jug is also a problem area – the spout and horned detail are too dark and flat, the top curve of the handle too undefined.

I particularly like the areas where the motifs cross the boundary of foreground and background (although the one on the right below has one of those annoying sharp diagonals).

I prepared both positive and negative versions of stencils to get further variety in the image which generally works well, except for a clumsy repeat of white on black close to black on white of a small plant mid-right background. Also I intended a more gradual and general movement of value in the background from dark at the bottom to light at the top. Unfortunately I haven’t achieved that. Really the overall balance of value isn’t right.

I like the range of colour used. Possibly it could be richer/deeper, but I didn’t want to risk losing the overlaying of shapes and imagery.

Overall success of sample and design: All the above issues aside, I think there is both contrast and harmony in the piece, providing an interesting, varied and harmonious image.

The layering and complexity of motifs works well, providing interest at a detail level. The treatment is very appropriate for the subject matter. The distance view is not quite so successful, with some distracting, clumsy areas. Also with so many rectangular elements I wanted to make the outside border of the image uneven, but I think the result goes too far.

Near the bottom right in the background is a small stencilled jug shape. I thought it might make a good visual clue if the overall design turned out too messy. I’m probably too close to the image to judge, but I hope that the overall shape is apparent (effectively making the small shape unnecessary and a bit cheesy).

The orange defining lines were a late addition to the design. The original sketch used black lines and the idea of the complementary orange was always on the list of “maybe somewhere”. In the end I think the amount of orange used is about right, and the extra definition helps to clarify the shapes. Although there were some poor choices, I was pleased that I was well prepared but not over prepared – there was still some flexibility and spontaneity while actually doing the printing.

I’ve read comments (and made them myself) in blogs and forums about various difficulties and disadvantages of being a distance student. On the other hand distance learning has the advantage that in the end you are responsible for everything. There are lots of resources available – course notes, tutor, the internet (especially blogs and youtube), books, friends, guilds … – but in the end you choose the specific task to meet the requirement, gather the equipment, find solutions to problems and get a result (even if the result is “I don’t like this” or “it didn’t work”). I love going to classes, but they’re often exhausting, you can easily miss a vital something that makes everything work and there could be specialised tools or materials that you’re unlikely to invest in at home. To get the best learning I need to come home and try the technique on my own, using resources and material available to me. With this piece I feel a real sense of personal ownership and confidence. I know how to do every step involved.

Overall I’m very pleased with my result. To be honest, this Assignment has taken so long I would have said “good enough” to almost anything, even a disaster that I could learn from. As it is I like the result, I like seeing the progress shown in my work and the development of ideas and techniques, and I’m sure similar elements will appear in future work.

* Laporte, S. (editor, 2011)  Picasso: Masterpieces from the Musée National Picasso, Paris, Paris: Musée Picasso, Paris.

** Maloon, T. (editor. 2010) Paths to Abstraction 1867 – 1917, Sydney: Art Gallery of New South Wales.

Research point – textile collections in a museum

A Research Point in the OCA course recommends visits to contemporary and historical or ethnographical textile collections. For contemporary, I wrote about Sensorial Loop here. Now taking a slightly different slant, in the past few weeks I’ve seen textiles in a number of non-textile-oriented collections, and have been musing over the different approaches taken in their display.

First up a trio at the NSW Art Gallery (which has the advantage of allowing photographs of most items in its permanent collection – although no flash allowed, so apologies for photo quality).

This magnificent Atsuita No robe is displayed centre stage in a section of the Lower Asian Gallery. It dominates the room in a large free-standing display. The space allowed both inside and around the cabinet together with the raised stand adds to the drama and visual importance of the piece. It is the only obvious textile piece in the area, which also contains ceramics, paintings and drawings, netsuke, etc. The lighting in the gallery generally is dim and the spot lighting enhances the textile and allows clear viewing of the detailed work.

The robe is Edo period (1603 – 1868), circa 1800, and is a theatre costume. The whirlpool and dragon design is in silk and gold, using ikat dyed threads for the warp (information provided on signage). There is further information and a photo on the gallery’s website (click here).

The workmanship of the weaving is just amazing. I’ve never seen ikat dyeing used in such a crisp, formal way – in fact it took me a long time examining the work to accept the information. The use of colour is very effective. I particularly like the flashes of brighter colour in the whirlpools.

This Kalinga skirt cloth from the Phillipines is a more modest cloth, more modestly displayed. It is in a back corridor in the upper Asian Gallery, quite a bright area. The piece is mounted in a frame behind glass -I had difficulty getting a reasonable photo, so apologies for the reflections of lights and the ceramics displayed on the opposite wall. The Gallery website has a much, much better photo – click here.

Once again the signage was very informative. Also once again I had trouble believing it, originally thinking it was embroidery rather than floating weft decoration (I’m still not totally convinced – I think there is a combination of techniques). I first took a close look at this cloth in February – notes and a schematic in my sketchbook here. The dangling beads and shell pieces reflect the triangular shapes in the cloth, and add an extra touch of colour and texture to the textile. They must look very effective when worn as a skirt.

The final piece I have chosen from the gallery is La Somnambule, by Rosslynd Piggott, made 996-97. Unlike the earlier two pieces of costume and clothing, this was obviously created as an artwork although elements are drawn from clothing design. In keeping with this there is much less information provided in the gallery – names and dates for artist and piece, plus a brief list of materials (silk, hooks, coathangers, perspex, stainless steel). There is much more descriptive and interpretive information, plus photos, on the Gallery website (click here).

This work is displayed in the Contemporary Galleries, at one end and rather separate from other work. This provides a sense of space and quiet that fits well with the piece.

It is a very beautiful and intriguing piece. I find it quiet and gentle, although the many hooks in one of the “nightdresses” and the unravelling in both could suggest more sinister ideas. The mirror-shaped perspex suggests a reflection and possible distortion, or perhaps a displacement “Alice through the looking glass” effect. Looking now at the photographs the disproportionate sleeves look somewhat reminiscent of a straight-jacket, but I didn’t get that sense when looking at the work itself – the beautiful, gleaming silk doesn’t fit that notion. It is much more a fragile, dreaming sensation.

Each of these pieces has been displayed in a different way by the Gallery. Each is in the company of its peers. I feel the Gallery has done an excellent job of considering the nature and requirements of each individual work, and appreciate the value clearly given to textiles as cultural and artistic artifacts.

In Canberra a few weeks ago (blog post here) we had some time in the National Gallery of Australia before going into the Renaissance exhibition. We wandered into a gallery of Impression and Post-Impressionism works, enticed further by one piece after another (including Sonia Delaunay‘s Dubonnet), and came to a large case of costumes from Diaghilev’s Ballet Russes and other Ballet Russes companies that followed. No photography is permitted in the Gallery, but I have included a link below.

There were 9 or so costumes in the case, with diffuse lighting above and spot lighting from the very high ceiling. Signage explained the fragile nature of the pieces. Unfortunately the case was at the end of a cul-de-sac in the gallery layout – it gave a good view at a distance to bring visitors in, but you couldn’t move around to see the sides and backs of the costumes.

A dress designed by Giorgio de Chirico for the Ballet de l’opéra russes á Parie production of Pulcinella in 1931 and 1932 particularly attracted me given the current OCA work on painting and printing. There is a photo on the Gallery’s website here. The full skirt has been stamped and painted with blue paint in simple triangles and dots. It is clearly hand-done, and achieves a very lively and spontaneous air. The bodice has been painted with large scrollwork and a fleur de lis kind of shape. There are curious stuffed shapes on the shoulders, yellow puffed sleeves and for me there is an overall almost cartoonish feel. I can imagine the skirt lifting and swirling as the dancer moved.

Another favourite was attributed to Picasso, elements from a production of Le Tricorne. Detailed information was given putting the costumes and production into their historical and design context. The costume, including men’s breeches, was fairly plain, but there were little bobbles that I thought may have been crocheted attached to the seams – again with lots of potential for movement during the ballet. Other costumes used raw edge applique and tassels sewn on, again with a cartoonish, raw, fresh and handmade appearance.

Overall the quality of information provided and the variety of textile work used was very interesting and satisfying.

The final exhibition is Travelling the silk road: ancient pathway to the modern world at the National Museum of Australia, also in Canberra. The exhibition is organised by American Museum of Natural History, New York. It had only been open a day or two when we went and a few things weren’t quite set up (a film show, a few of the exhibits not working).

The exhibition is telling a very big story – the “Silk Road” was many routes through many cultures and countries over 600 years. It cleverly does this by taking the visitor on a journey to four cities on the road. It is educational, entertaining, interactive. You can walk in dappled light under a grape vine and smell the spices and scents of the markets while camels snort in your ear (the lights bright spot lights, the grapes plastic, the scents under sliding covers in barrels so you could try to guess what they were, the camels recorded and thankfully not spitting). You can tell the time using the “stars” and a model astrolabe (set at a height convenient to children). You can find links in culture and technology on an interactive map (set at a convenient height…). There was a huge setup explaining a karez underground irrigation system – I’m glad to have learnt about this remarkable achievement.

I feel really conflicted about this exhibition, because in many ways it was wonderful but I found it sterile and distancing and unsatisfying. It was so artificial. It was so well intentioned. It was so cheesy. It was so polished. It provided nice little chunks of information conveniently packaged for my consumption. I should add that my companion knows far, far more about the Silk Road than I do, she has visited three of the four cities featured, and she really enjoyed the exhibition.

Focusing back on textiles, there was no stinting the information and carefully designed displays on all the stages of silk production. Entering the exhibition you immediately see a huge replica of a Tang era loom, dressed in gleaming rich golden yellow silk. There are shuttles, a thread winder, bobbins, a roll of woven cloth… of course I tried to read too much into it – the position of the beater looked impossible, the roll of finished cloth on the cloth beam had never been woven on that loom, whatever, whatever – not relevant to the purpose of the exhibition. I liked a display based on a reproduction of a scroll that illustrated all the processes of sericulture, harvesting the cocoons, through winding off, processing and weaving the silk. I was pleased with myself for recognising Michael Cook on a video (I used to follow his blog wormspit). There was a lot of use of modern silk in patterns based on possible silk road trade goods. Further on there was an interesting set of items showing the diffusion of designs from textiles to ceramics to architecture.

I think the problem for me as a textile obsessive is that in a way the silk wasn’t real – it was a tool, a part of telling a wider story. In terms of entertainment and education it didn’t matter that everything was a reproduction – and large pieces of bright coloured cloth are much more eye-catching than tattered, stained, precious remnants woven by someone’s hands centuries ago. I don’t want slick presentation and everything given to me, I want some spaces for my imagination and a sense of my own discovery.

With all this negativity I don’t want to put people off visiting this exhibition. It has a lot to offer. I just tried to make it something is isn’t – something that fits into a research point about an historical or ethnographical collection of textiles.

Textile research point

Wedding shawl of Elizabeth Travis

The course asks for an in depth look at a textile I have at home.

Elizabeth Travis (1843 – 1897) was the daughter of Thomas Travis and Ann Travis (née Lofthouse) and the sister of Mary Ann Brant (née Travis). Mary Ann was the mother of Alice, who was the mother of Eleanor Louise, the mother of Margaret Eleanor, the mother of Judith Margaret (me). Which I think makes Elizabeth my great great great aunt. As a child my grandmother, Eleanor, lived in a house in Sheffield UK with four generations and although she didn’t remember much of that time she had been told that she learnt to walk in her Great Grandmother’s room (that would have been Ann). I don’t know any more of Elizabeth’s story, when or who she married, but the shawl and story were given by my grandmother to my mother. Early this year I asked mum about the shawl for this research exercise and she has now given it to me.

The shawl is woven, rectangular and large – around 275 cm in length plus a fringe of 9 cm at each end, and 146 cm in width. The ends of the shawl have a narrow hem and the fringe has been added separately. It is very light – just 235 grams.

I did a burn test on some fibre taken from a torn area and assessed it based on a chart and information from http://www.ditzyprints.com/dpburnchart.html (accessed 13 April 2012). It burnt briefly then self-extinguished. There was an odour of burning hair (I cross-checked by burning a snippet of my own hair!), and left a black, soft bead of ash. Based on this plus the appearance of the shawl, I think the shawl is a mix of silk and wool.

The central part of the shawl is warped in a very fine off-white thread with a sheen. The warp is spaced, with pairs of threads every millimetre or so. This gauzy weave seems quite stable, suggesting to me a leno structure or similar, but even with a fairly strong magnifying glass I can’t see clearly. At each side there is a striped border – a broad (5.7 cm) stripe of heavier tan-coloured silk woven in a twill (I think) at the side, then four narrower stripes. Each stripe is edged by a few ends of off-white silk, heavier than that in the main cloth.

Weftwise, there is a matching border of tan silk striping at each end. The body of the shawl has a very regular repeat of stripes. I think the main weft may be wool. Certainly it is more matt in appearance that the other threads. There is a stripe of wool a couple of picks of the off-white silk, a stripe of wool, then a stripe consisting of a dark silk, the off-white silk, then a variegated dark and tan thread.

In the photo the shawl is partly over a black sheet of paper, and you can see just how fine it is. Given the weight of the silk used and the regularity of the weaving I believe it was machine made.

Although there are no signs of fading, the shawl is in poor condition. There has been moth damage and I found a couple of what appeared to be old moth bodies in the cloth. There are also tears in the cloth which seem to be along fold lines. For many years the shawl has been stored in a plastic bag in a dark drawer, and even when taken out to show me it hadn’t been unfolded. I found one area of mending.

If the family story is correct, Elizabeth may have been married in the 1860s or 1870s (although it’s really just an assumption even that it was her wedding). A brief search on the internet found mention of large shawls – up to 11 feet – to cover the wide skirts in fashion around that time, although those seem often to be triangular. Wearing white at weddings is thought to have become popular after Queen Victoria wore white lace at her wedding in 1840, although confined to the elite due to laundering considerations (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_wedding, accessed 15 April 2012). The shawls I found in my search were lace, or beaded and/or embroidered. There is no embellishment on Elizabeth’s shawl. Thomas, her father, was described as a labourer on her birth certificate and in later documentation was described as a Maltster Journeyman. A light coloured fairly plain silk and wool shawl may have been appropriate for the wedding outfit of the daughter of a man of that station in life.

It’s impossible to judge the accuracy of the family story, given it is mostly oral history. There is a note in my mother’s handwriting stored with the shawl, and a brief mention of the house in Sheffield in a letter from my grandmother in 1990. Mum has also spent a lot of time researching the family history, so we have copies of some birth, death and marriage certificates. It’s such a lovely story and there seems no particular reason not to believe it, although memories are frail and many a family researcher has found surprises where there was no apparent reason to mislead.

It is wonderful to feel a connection with women through five generations of a family. It has been treated by all of us as something special and precious, including the careful darning. I’m lucky to have that sense of continuity and belonging.

As a weaver I would love to create a piece inspired by the colours and structures of the shawl. At first glance it is deceptively simple although attractive. Looking more closely for this research piece has made me appreciate the complexity of the design.

I don’t know if, how or when I’ll use this shawl. It’s certainly too delicate to wear as it is. Perhaps one day I may have the inspiration and the courage to cut into it and use part in a textile piece. In 2005 or so I made this piece Life Weaving – Generations which incorporates a fragment from Alice’s 1897 wedding dress, but that was all I had. (I was much more blasé about taking scissors to my wedding dress and my mother’s!). It would be harder to cut into something that is perhaps 150 years old and still basically one piece.