sussex'ing

We have a new Sussex Stitchers project which is very loosely based around Dijanne Cevaal's Travellers' Blankets, One of our members shared a post from Inspirations magazine about these back in September last year. It rang a chord with some of us so when we (i.e. The Committee) asked for ideas about a new project and were met with the usual doubtful silence, this was suggested as a starting point. Dijanne's works are about travelling and each scrap of cloth reflects whatever the theme is of that particular blanket. She is currently offering on an online class if you want to find out more - from the link above.

We are interpreting her idea in relation to living in Sussex and have had to adapt quite a bit to enable it to be worked as a joint project. Yours truly therefore volunteered to hand dye some calico a vibrant blue, to reflect the seaside that we live by. This was fun in itself, as I overdyed the fabric four times with differing combinations of blue (Royal, Turquoise and Indigo) to get an interesting lively background. Members are going to stitch an image, on a separate piece of fabric, that means something to them, drawn from the Sussex landscape, thus reflecting the travelling theme. They will have their own square of blue to applique their embroidered image to, and each image will be stitched round in the same manner as Dijanne's. All the squares will then be reassembled to make one banner at the top of which we will add a header proclaiming our group's name. This can be used to advertise our existence if we travel around exhibiting our work. It will also embody the togetherness and inspiration which comes from being part of a lively stitching group in Sussex.

So, having dyed the two meters of calico and cut them up (very scary) I have just completed my own little square of blue. The background to the embroidery comes from my very first course with Christine in Studio 11, the tie dye mini quilt, one of the moons and a little bit of clamped shibori. 

Silhouetted by a silvery moon, the Royal Sovereign Lighthouse shines her light out to warn passing ships about the dangerous sandbank below. 

My stitching around the image doesn't have the vibrant brightness of Dijanne's, but it does evoke that warning light and the deeps of the sea below. I chose the lighthouse for two reasons. Firstly, when darling daughter was a small person we lived in a flat on St Leonards seafront. Walks to and from Hastings were always full of interesting things to look at, but this landmark was the one I used to reassure myself that she hadn't inherited either my or her father's short sightedness. 

"Jen .... can you see that on the horizon?", "yes Mummy I can see it!". Sigh of relief from me. 

But now Royal Sovereign has served her purpose and is to be decommissioned, as she has reached the end of her usefulness. I like the idea that, even in a very small way, this Sussex landmark will live on once the actual lighthouse has disappeared from our horizon, a small memorial to her years of keeping ships and sailors safe from harm.

Bargello update

I finished my little bit of canvaswork in mid January. I am very happy with the way it has turned out, the grading of colour from centre to outside has given the right level of "glow" in the middle. The leaves in the centre are easy to distinguish while the darker edges bring out the bright flowers. We won't comment on the slight difference in my working of the bottom flower!

Christine asked me why I chose to use stranded cotton rather than the more traditional wool. In part it was because this was how Rachel was working her experimental fish. Her reason was to allow her to mix colours in the needle, to great effect I must say, but I hadn't really thought about that element until it came to the background. Here the six strands gave me the flexibility to work three shades in a graduated way which has created a smooth transition from one colour to the other. This is not quite the way Bargello is traditionally worked; colour transitions are more marked as with the flowers and leaves here, but that wouldn't have given the right effect in the background. The other effect of stranded cotton as opposed to wool is the lovely sheen that comes where the light, hitting the thread as it lies in differing directions, bounces back and brings changes in value to the colours. I'm really enjoying that.

Now, of course, that horrid question people tend to ask - "but what's it for?" Well it's only about 5 inches square, so something small, another box perhaps. But really, it has been for the pleasure of stitching and experimenting. And that is enough for me

A bit of Bargello

Having watched Rachel's experiments with bargello and her fishes I was reminded that I wanted to try out this technique again myself, a little something to take me into the New Year. I did use a small area of this stitch on a needlecase I made for Aunt Cecil many years ago, which has found its way back to me now. The image on the front came from Candace Bahouth's Medieval Needlepoint, I'm not sure where the pattern on the back came from but the colours were chosen to compliment the front. The technique is named for the Bargello Palace in Florence where some chairs were worked in this stitch. You'll also find it called Flame Stitch and Florentine Stitch amongst other names.

I learnt a lot from watching the way Rachel handled her threads while stitching those fishies - the stroking and placing that ensured that the thread on the surface was smooth and lay flat. So I found my copy of Dorothy Kaestner's Four Way Bargello and chose a reasonably simple design to experiment with. It is nearly there, though filling the background is taking a while. I have used six strands (canvas is about 16 to the inch) and perhaps eight would have covered the surface slightly better. The eagle eyed among you might notice my mistake with one of the flowers, but I think that will be OK. I am enjoying grading the background colour, which darkens as it moves outwards. I wanted those flowers to sing against a dark blue but would have lost the leaves if I used that at the centre.

One of the things new embroiderers don't realise is the importance of separating out the threads of stranded floss and recombining so that they are flat rather than twisted together when you stitch. This makes such a difference to the appearance, especially with stitches where the threads lie parallel to one another. It took me many years to understand this, but once you do it becomes an important part of stitching technique. The smooth surface of the threads increases the amount of reflected light, which makes the final embroidery both more interesting and more beautiful. You can see here how the light bounces off the stitched surface, increasing the variety of tone in the embroidery depending on the angle of stitching.

I miscalculated the size of this, not being careful enough with checking the thread count. I will have to remove it from the frame to complete the edges - but the canvas should hold its stiffness. We'll have to see whether my stitching maintains its evenness once I am holding it and using one hand to stitch rather than passing the needle through from one hand to the other, above and below. Fingers crossed (though not when stitching of course).

How are your New Year's projects going?

Foxy Loxy Boxy

It was darling daughter's 35th birthday last Wednesday. How on earth has she managed to get that grown up? I'm sure it's only a few years since she was this size!

We had a very enjoyable afternoon tea in a lovely café in Hastings. As one of her presents I had been hoping to finish this little box for her, and just about managed it in time. 

The little fox on the lid was begun during a beadwork tutorial that Steph did for Sussex Stitchers back in November 2019. There was finishing to be done for that to start with!

Then at our last meeting she gave us a morning tutorial in making little boxes - Steph is a woman of many talents. As I had the little fox, and had some foxy material from the quilt I made for our new arrival, I though this might be appropriate for my box.

As you can see, I managed to get the little foxes pretty well lined up, from bottom to lid, all around the box, much to my amazement. It was a slightly stretchy fabric in all directions, so a lot of pinning, re-pinning, pricked fingers and expletives deleted were involved. Fortunately no blood was transferred to the fabric.

I found the box construction really interesting from a technical point of view, and am eager to make another one (we have a second workshop in January). The hardest part was using the curved needle to attach inside to outside and lid to top. They work incredibly well for this task, and come highly recommended, in particular by Sarah Homfray, as you ca see in her excellent video tutorial on how to use them, but ohhhhhhh I found it difficult. The needle kept slipping and sliding in my fingers at critical moments and the point sometimes refused to pierce the fabric. At least when dropped on the floor they are easier to find than straight ones! Have you ever tried using them? Did they get your vote?

I'm please to say Jen was very happy with her gift, and the little pot of nice face cream and extra soft socks hidden inside. After all one shouldn't give an empty box as a gift should one?

another new arrival

The second of the next generation of children in my husband's family has arrived recently. Another earlier than expected event, she entered the world on his birthday. Very fortuitous, since she is his first great grandchild. He was, as you might imagine, overwhelmed with delight. 

I had been working on a quilt for her, and took my trusty old Bernina and other necessaries on our Lakes pilgrimage at the end of September. We knew she was a she, and we knew she was an autumn baby so I thought autumn stars would be appropriate and, on the advice of a quilting friend, chose a square format, making a floor quilt for her to roll about on. The quilt is backed with a lovely soft brushed cotton which I have brought to the front using the self binding method.

There are a selection of little animals for her to tell herself stories about; a deer and her fawn in the autumn woods, some butterflies, a hedgehog and friend, and a pair of lovebirds which also appeared on "Flopsy's" quilt. 

Then there are a mother fox and her cub snuggled in their den and a very vibrant cat

Another pair of cats (we do have two after all) and a wise old owl

And a proud dog fox with his mates. We had five youngsters in the garden this year!

This was the block which started it all, one I made pre lockdown when I was doing a second patchwork course with Naomi (remember that hand made one from 2018?). For the rest I assembled some autumnal fabrics and was given a very valuable lesson by Christine on which ones of the great selection to choose, and how to check whether I had enough of each colour to make the blocks. There is a huge amount of calculating and counting when doing this, so I was deeply grateful for her wise advice. The majority of creatures are from great grandad's garden. We are a little too urban for deer though and, with badgers, there are never going to be any hedgehogs here, but I couldn't find any suitable badger fabric.

Great grandad is travelling up to Yorkshire to meet his great granddaughter at the beginning of December, so has volunteered to be the quilt courier. I do hope that her parents like it and that, in time, it will be a source of pleasure to her and will feed her imagination. I have so enjoyed making it.

With apologies for my long absence, I am still here, honest!

Secret Garden

Once upon a time there was this

Polyester voile with paper lamination 2015

and this

New cotton/silk mix. Mandala sample 2017

and this

Vintage cotton sheeting. Pole wrapped shibori 2017

Brought together, would they draw you across a room?

And when you got closer, would you want to see more?

Might they tell you a story?

Or should they be left to go their separate ways, being too much of a muddle all together?

The only stitched element so far is the butterfly, an earlier idea that was rejected. I have not the faintest notion of how I might combine these varied objects with stitch. It is for now, just a muse .....

Debbie Lyddon Textile ReTreat

I have just spent a very pleasurable four days on a course, Decorative Surfaces for 3D Textiles, with Debbie Lyddon over at Studio11. She is a textile artist based in Wells-next-the-sea in Norfolk and a member of The 62 Group. Her work is deeply rooted in the landscape which she has been coming back to for many many years; you can read more about it here. I first came across her via Christine and then was lucky enough to see some of her pieces when she exhibited at Festival of Quilts in 2014. I find them quite magical, the way she evokes the experience of landscape and the sense of "hidden and revealed layers" in her work. She was a delightful and generous teacher, sharing with us the techniques she uses and enabling each of us to create things that drew on our own inspirations using those techniques. 

There were seven of us on the course, three friends from Studio11 and three new folk. One of the delights in working alongside other people is seeing how they use what is learnt to express their own vision.

On our first day (and on subsequent days) we went down to the seaside in the morning, the Studio being a short walk from Eastbourne seafront. Debbie encouraged us to look and listen carefully to our surroundings. Then we made some very sketchy visual notes of things that drew us or excited us in the little sketchbooks we had made before leaving the Studio. I have done this before on an Alice Fox workshop and have found both times that this quiet, almost meditative looking and quick sketching is a marvelous way of awakening one to the surroundings without adding the angst of "am I drawing this properly?" which so often defeats me when I try to sketch outdoors.

I admit to "cheating" by taking a couple of photos on my phone as well. But, with sketchbook in hand, I was reminded of how easy it is to "just" take photos rather than really looking at what has drawn me to the thing I am snapping. When you sketch you are drawn in (if you'll pardon the pun) to the subject matter, you really see it.

I loved the lines of the wooden groynes, the punctuation marks of the rusting bolts, and the way the brilliant green seaweed showed the pull of the sea as it flowed across the wood

The pier with its wonderful crisscross girders, tensioning irons and rich rusty orange was very eye catching

and I have always enjoyed the layers and echoes on our beaches that come from the repeated shapes of the groynes and the contrasts of the colours in the shingle with the sea and sky.

Once we had gathered some ideas we went back to the Studio and spent the following days watching, learning and trialing as Debbie talked us through folding paper into simple (or complex) shapes, applying emulsion, wax, home made gesso and stitched/found textures to linen, canvas and muslin. We added colour to those pieces of cloth, using watercolour paint and her secret ingredient - boot polish! Once we understood how the techniques worked on the ground fabric Debbie asked us to think about how we could use these, and what we had learned from the paper folding exercises, to reflect on and evoke the objects and textures we had experienced as we walked on the seashore. We were tasked to create something that brought all these things together. Debbie commented that she always wants her students to be able to create a finished object to take home, rather than a muddle of samples that we might do something with "one day".

I had picked up some lovely sedimentary pebbles with layered lines on them, and some flint stones with interesting cool grey and black pits and marks. I used these and the colours on the seashore as a starting point and created a linked set of three "pots" with the emulsion and wax techniques. These can sit inside each other, or next to each other, depending on space available, and are another way of creating a piece which is formed of layers. You can see them in the foreground here, slipped inside each other with the stormy sky behind.

With the gesso technique we had stitched linen to fit round our formers, in my case a piece of plumber's pipe, before applying the gesso. Once this was dry we could then add texture. I had collected a couple of silvery blue mussel shell fragments, some fine shingle and a bit of sand. These were applied to the outside of the pot by using a "plaster" of gesso soaked muslin. Then I added colour with watercolour, a little bit of drawing ink and the merest whisper of dark oil pastel over some of the highest points of texture. 

These images were taken on the final day when we returned to the beach; linking the made objects to the source of our inspiration; allowing them to speak to each other.

Once back in the Studio all our works were arranged together on one of the benches so we could look and admire and be encouraged by what each of us had made.

You can see some more closeup inspiration from the course on Debbie's Instagram here.

What a marvelous way to spend four days doing delightful things with a generous teacher. My thanks to Debbie and, of course, to Christine who made sure we were Covid safe, and provided us with delicious lunches each day. It was an enormous pleasure to be back in her Studio sharing a love of learning and textiles with everyone else in the group.