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. 

What I took to show and tell today

Evening sunshine bringing out the sparkle

Something

Hidegarde's Feather

Hildegarde of Bingen was a nun, dedicated to God from the age of eight, a tithe child, being the tenth in the family. From a very early age she had visions, I often wonder how we would treat a child now, who "had visions", haloperidol perhaps. But Hildegarde, who lived in an age of belief rather than reason, was allowed to be who she was, in the service of her God. She was taught by an anchoress or holy hermit called Jutta. In her later life Hildegarde became head of her convent, was consulted by the church and state luminaries of her time, composed music which we can still hear today, and had a number books published, with illuminations depicting her visions: all of this 800 years ago. There is a really good biography of her here (on one of the best history sites I know of)

A group of images from her works, arranged four square, appear full of mystery and meaning, like tarot cards

I looked to her illuminations for several things:

Pattern- as with many works of this period, pattern is used to fill in backgrounds, decoration rather than realism. I've used little groups of pattern, based on the illuminations, to fill some areas of the ground cloth

Colour, she uses a lot of red in her images, which chimes with the vibrant feather. I've also used the colour of the thread to either match the background, or to modify it, allowing the "visions" in the cloth to shine.

Otherness, the illuminations, depict concepts like devils, heaven, that which is not of this visible world. Curious creatures blow celestial breezes that infuse the world with mystery.

a translucent creature swims amongst the stars of heaven, ringed around with silver; a little fish dives in the deep, some mysterious flowers flow by.

So, the incidental patterns from the dye on this piece of cloth - one of Connie and Harry's sheets, don't forget - suggests the feather image, and my mind says "on the breath of God" because it likes to put words together, and knows of Hildegarde, and elements of a 12th Century clever, fey, mystic woman find expression in the stitch.

I shall take this to my next Studio 11 session for show and tell, and to get some ideas about backing, then you can see it all ...

The back

Which you don't often get to see, but I have show in previous posts because I like backs too. Using a loose muslin on the back allows you to weave your thread in and out at the start and end of stitching. It keeps the stitches secure and the back neat.

and contains the ghost of the image