A Thought

Flow ......

Like this perhaps  

An Experiment

I enjoy testing out theories. This one is about plied threads having a sort of up and down; up and they behave themselves, down and they twirl and twist, squiggle and wriggle, tie themselves into ungainly knots and, generally, misbehave.

I wonder if you stitchers out there have similar "thread lore" that you've been told or have tested

So, a piece of lovely Ed Mar rayon in purple and pink - not being tested on this fabric, that already belongs to a cushion, but at the edge of something. 

I've threaded each end, and will cut and stitch to see how each behaves. 

Same needle, same bit of fabric,

and quite a squiggly wiggle on the right

though subsequent stitches didn't behave the same way, however

the red thread, coming from the left, has untwisted quite a lot at the end, compared to the purple one

and look at how that stem stitch sits in opposite directions, though placed into the fabric in exactly the same way. The purple thread, which squiggled but didn't unravel sits above the line, the red, which squiggled less, sits below. Food for thought.

I am intrigued ...

Catch up

I haven't shown you this recently. I've done all sorts.

I took out these distracting open chain stitches in dark blue and purple - I am learning the value of unpicking and persevering. These were originally done to explore creating a cell like pattern to sit above the organza for the dragonfly project, which is simply in abeyance at the moment, not forgotten

it has evolved into something else, a counter-play between the surface and what lies beneath. Now I'm focusing here in the top left corner. Just an echo of the wave pattern picked up from the fabric below. I need to do something to hold down the organza at the top left. Something delicate that doesn't draw the eye away from the orange wave. So I'm looking at the threads I've got

Absolutely wrong, too pale and shiny though it has been used elsewhere 

A good purple, but too fat and shiny, again it will draw the eye too much.

Lovely colours, and the right weight, but might tucking bright orange up here be a bit distracting, in this quiet space?

But here, the colours of the organza are echoed closely, the weight is right, and it's a matte thread so won't draw the eye, just blend gently I hope. I'm also looking to break the edge at the side by bringing the flow out onto the ground fabric so it softens that line of blue on the left.

And for an interesting change of scale and tone, I have a Studio 11 next week so also need to consider these - not sure if this will become something functional or decorative, but I love the patterns created by the breakdown process shown in video by Clare Benn and Leslie Morgan

The family of fabrics I've dyed to go with the printed fabric - resist screen printed at the top, embedded screen printed  at the bottom. I'm rather pleased with them. 

Catching Up!

After many weeks buzzing to and fro from Henley life is beginning to find a slightly kinder pace. I had two lovely workshops this month, then our visit to the London Poppies, by way of some of the more extraordinary buildings in London

the building in front reminds me of the library I worked from for many many years, the one behind is simply surreal when you're close up. 

The poppies we found very moving, each one a human being lost to all.

The garden is looking autumnal

and these two were singing their hearts out atop our tatty spruce

At last I have time to sit and stitch for a bit.

Some knot practice for another piece I'm working on

Those orange knots are too small, the thread being so much finer than the blue knots half way down the sweep.

Revealed

Another Studio 11 session and here are my results

Layers of colour - a fat quarter of each

More layers of colour - each related to the other

Such pleasure to be had with cloth and a dyepot and an excellent tutor.

web woven

spiralling from the centre

Progress

Eventually this whole piece will be detached from the surface I'm stitching against. The initial shape is created with a couched double line of thread onto a pad formed of: folded calico, the line drawing of the design and finally that old favourite, tacky backed plastic. The plastic gives a smooth protective surface, allowing the needle to slide under the threads of the lace to create the next row; part embroidery, part knitting, part crochet, on a tiny scale! 

Intense work, but satisfying

Autumn

falling leaves

some cradled for a while

and needlelace

from a Saturday workshop with Kay Dennis and her husband Michael, using Stef Francis fine perle. They had a very cunning setup with a digital camcorder (I guess), projector and screen. This meant you could see the demo in detail, vital for such fine work. Do click on the oak leaf in her gallery - she works the needle lace in white, then delicately paints the result in autumnal hues. 

She taught us mushrooms two years ago.

Experimental shibori

For my next session with Christine I'm preparing these little bits of silk. I've layered three pieces of lightweight silk together with big tacking stitches, folded them concertina style, then stitched a generous running stitch wave down the centre longways

Next I stitched from the innermost point of each curve, out to the edge through individual layers of the folds.

I will draw all the stitches up and tie them off before dropping in the dye pot.

I want to learn two things; firstly how to prepare a small amount of dye for a little project like this - and I'm well aware that this will make the colour unpredictable. Then I want to see how the colour takes in each silk. I did some dyeing in the summer last year and found that silks seem to be warmer in tone than cottons from the same dye bath; I wonder if that is because they are very thirsty, take up colour quickly and so get a higher proportion of any redness, as I'm sure Christine said that red takes first.

Also, of course, I want to see what effects come from the stitching - I hope to get three small pieces of silk that are closely related, because they have all taken the same pattern. The folds will create repetition so the long wave should echo across. The smaller stitching from centre to edge might create an effect of wings, as they will be in pairs nestled between the curves.

We'll have to wait until the 8th of November to see what happens, next class on the 7th :-)

Decision making

Sorry, I am very absent at the moment. Still trailing to and fro from the south coast to the interior, clearing Cecil's home. It means spending a lot of my non work time driving too fast on motorways, and has been occupying time since the end of July when we moved her here.

But aha! on Friday, the pleasure of a Studio 11 day to just do creative. My plan this year includes broadening my technical skills, and Friday was the first chance to start. I brought along a breakdown printed piece that I did in my first year there, a lovely process - here shown by Claire Benn of Committed to Cloth. I used two processes, half of the piece of fabric in each. Friday's plan was to dye some fabrics in a family of colours to use with this to create a quilt, or at least that's the plan for now, these things can change. The point of the exercise was to use a systematic process to take two colours and, using measured quantities of dye and fabric, move through tints as well as moving from one colour to another. It follows the same principles as the colour exercises that we did in City and Guilds, learning how colour works. 

So back to Connie and Harry's sheets, one of which provided me with the requisite four meters of fabric. Divide into four pieces. The colours used are scarlet and either plain turquoises or turquoise touched with golden yellow. Using four parts, one part and a quarter part of each colour, dye the fabric starting with the first colour. I went for the scarlet, so have three shades of this. You can see these at the bottom of each picture.

Then I did test patches, using the delightful method of mixing dyes in with print paste, squishy, scraped on with a credit card to create the blocks! That's what the patches are in the top bits of fabric, the same idea as we used with Michel Garcia though there we were trialing mordants. In the one above, you've got the red to turquoise transition on the left, red to green on the right. I've left out the unmixed red in each as they are at the bottom. 

This one looks very similar, but I've swapped the colours round at the top, to try that green against the left hand fabric.

What I will do next time, is to tear each of my red squares in four and do the same exercise with the second colour, getting mixes of both colour and tint.

The decision is about the colours to use. I love the way the muddy red and greens look, and they do compliment the right hand fabric, but perhaps not the left? This will determine what colour my second dip is. I will end up with 16 fat quarters, one of each colour.

Another view in artificial light.

I love the faint whiff of chemistry lesson about this process, and I love the interesting colours achieved. My fabrics, which are supposed to be a completely even tone, are slightly mottled, which I rather enjoy - it has more character than flat colour.

I'm also preparing a shibori, but more of that later, if I have time!

Starting to flow

I've been stitching this on and off, little bits at a time, since City and Guilds. It was a trial piece for the dragonfly bag, which never took flight. A piece of shibori, roughly printed with a wave thermofax that I was trialing, layered with organza and stitched over to test the feel and mechanics, then put to one side. I took it in at the start of this Studio 11 year, stumped and stuck. I aim to echo the organza in the lower section with stitch, endeavouring to mimic the shimmer of organza by using analogous colours and occasional changes of stitch direction.

Christine pointed out that the stitching in the top panel was taking over! I'd done a trial wing cell pattern with an interlaced stitch, then sort of forgotten about it, ceased to see it.

I've taken it off, and suddenly I start to see where to go. Not there yet, but much more balanced, I've cropped the edges as well, in this image

Thank you Christine

In the meantime, I'm still to'ing and fro'ing sorting out Cecil's house, salvaging things to decide about later, dealing appropriately with what's left. It's quite gruelling, my third trip Thursday to Sunday last week, but then there are revelations, a little collection of miniature china that I remember from my childhood, nestled in a drawer

They are all cracked and battered, but I clearly recall the thrill of finding them, as a solitary child, staying with her Aunt in this mysterious dwelling with it's hexagonal kitchen, uppy downy stairs, bowls of pot pourri, nooks and crannies. These speak to me of explorations and discoveries in quiet houses, where a clock ticks and the sounds of birds drift in through windows. I was often alone, but not often lonely. In my mind's eye, I was usually half away in Narnia, or the world of E Nesbit, and around me these little ladies, Cecil, Mum, Ganna, lived their quiet lives.

Studio 11 year three

But first, a pile of sketchbooks for Gina. These in preparation for my first Studio 11 workshop of the new year. A selection of the ones I've used in between times doing other things, like moving. Cecil here, and clearing her place - several more visits to go, but she really is worth it.

These sketchbooks come along with this untidy assortment of half thought out bits of fabric, and my feather from last year, which I want to talk about with Christine, who is a treasure :-)

 Oh, the pleasure, a whole day just to be creative. 

And then it was today, and I went to Eastbourne and had a delightful day with Christine, our first workshop of the year. 

Lots of good talk, lots of good advice, lots of fun. I'd had no time to do much preparation, for obvious reasons, but I did have a bit of time yesterday evening sketching and thinking Down in the Dell

so today had focus, and I have a bit of a plan (my dear heart says you have to have one of them, so you can change it).

And here is where I got to today, with my sketchbooks; imagine a whole day in the company of good people, sketching with intent, what delight! 

(with apologies for poor quality pictures)

Remember the dragonfly?

Worked on anew

Elements extracted,

when I was reminded of this, another image of dragonfly downs

which was part of where I got to with my designing last year

I'm intrigued by how often the Downs find their way into my design process. I've lived one end or the other all my life.

And to add to today's pleasure, we had friends from Gina's way with us today. It was a lovely day .... thank you :-)

An update: busy times

I've just had the pleasure of visiting the Eye of the Needle exhibition at the Ashmolean, and what a pleasure it was. On display were a variety of pieces of 17th Century needlework from the Feller collection. The range of work was delightful, from strip samplers to pictures, boxes, a mirror frame, book covers and items of clothing. There were also some church textiles, with the comment that

"Embroidery and religious practice were closely linked by some authors. Embroidery requires a focused body and mind"

I rather liked that - an early reference to mindfulness perhaps. 

One of the great joys of exhibitions is the opportunity to really see the fineness of the stitching and the way that light falls across the threads, giving the work a life and depth not visible in illustrations. It was very clear from the informative notes that work of this period held a strong moral message about the place of women within society. Themes, ranging from biblical stories and the classics to allegorical pieces, were often designed to reinforce the social expectations of the day: obedience, faithfulness, chastity and hard work.

There was a marvelous variety of techniques on display; stumpwork, needle point, whitework, pulled thread, beadwork and gold work. The way these techniques were combined in some pieces showed the great ingenuity and skill of the women who worked them. The colours in some were still vivid and clear, while others had faded to more delicate hues. The range of materials used was also rich. Along with the traditional grounds and threads of silk or linen, I saw glass beads, sequins, coral, pearls, silver threads and wire and fragments of bird feathers. These were crafted into a wonderful range of images. Flowers of all sorts were abundant, along with a menagerie of curious mythical beasts, butterflies, insects, snails, peacocks and parrots, lions and unicorns, deer and donkeys, dancing dogs, a camel and even a couple of frogs. These kept company with the likes of Abraham and Isaac, Adam and Eve, Ruth and Boaz and allegorical figures representing virtues and vices, many intended to reinforce the expected behaviours of the women who stitched. Above and below these characters there were cheery suns and moons peeping out from behind pastel coloured clouds, soaring birds and diving fishes, along with the occasional angel. I particularly liked an image of a kingfisher with a fish in his beak, and a lumpy toad crouching at the foot of a stumpwork tree.

The samplers were also delightful, some with neatly arranged rows of various techniques, some with a wonderful higgledy piggledy disorder about them. The fineness of this sort of work can only be appreciated by looking closely and the Ashmolean was kind enough to provide magnifying glasses for visitors to enable the stitching to be appreciated to the full. I saw white work, tent stitch, satin stitch, raised chain, detached buttonhole, bullion knots, needleweaving, silk shading, in fact the whole range of techniques available from the period.

One could have spent hours looking at just a couple of the embroideries, so interesting and detailed were they, but an hour and a half was all my legs could stand. I came away with a deeper understanding of the needlework of the period and a delightful menagerie of embroidered beasts in my head, further enhanced by seeing similar images carved above the windows and doors of the wonderful buildings that fill the streets of Oxford. It was a splendid way of spending a Sunday morning and I'd recommend anyone going to Oxford in the next few months to take the time to visit the Ashmolean and discover the delights of this collection. I can also recommend the first volume of the two books about this fabulous collection, it has lovely images of the embroideries and just the right amount of fascinating text. You can preview it here. I'm afraid I've just snaffled the second volume from Amazon at better price than usual, and was amused to notice that one bookseller has their copy for sale for £4,072.93. I suspect a misprint!

In other news, as they say, I've spent the past couple of weeks moving my dear little Aunt Cecil into care and beginning the difficult task of clearing her property. Having put it off for as long as possible her carer and I agreed that she's no longer safe to be left alone on evenings and weekends. It's been a terribly hard thing to do, and the sense of a life being dismantled and distilled down to just one room is strong. I brought her here to be near us two weeks ago, then went up again this week to do some sorting and sifting of "stuff" of which there is a great deal. I felt dreadful delivering her to the care home, however she has taken it all in good spirit and seems very settled in her new abode. She's just five minutes from us, so easy to pop in and see every day and we can take walks by the seaside, eat ice creams together and go on bra buying expeditions to M&S! I have another trip later this month to bring down some of her furniture so she feels more at home in her room.

I've also been in an exhibition! Goodness me! Our Embroiderer's Guild put on a show of recent work in the lovely workshop where Christine teaches me good things. I had two pieces on display (amongst almost seventy), both of which you've seen before

 Uffington, galloping across the Downs

and some magical mushrooms from the workshop we were given by Kay Dennis. I felt rather proud of them once they were mounted and framed. 

I was one of four of us who put up the exhibition. It took six hours in the sweltering heat to display everything properly, extra exhausting for me as I'd been transferring Cecil that week, which involved four gruelling hours, much of it on the motorways, coming home! I entirely failed to take any photos of the exhibition, but if I speak sweetly to our Chairman she might let me share a couple of her photos, so you can see what talented people I was sharing the limelight with.