19 September 2012

Juji-tsunagi sashiko sampler

Completed sampler.

I recently completed an Olympus-brand sashiko sampler in the traditional pattern called juji-tsunagi, which literally translated means "filled with groups of ten." The Japanese character for the number ten looks very much like the Western alphabet lowercase "t".  By stitching a field of linked "t" symbols this pattern invokes prosperity - may your fortune increase tenfold.

I chose to stitch the sampler, ordered online from my wonderful supplier, Miho, in two colors, Olympus # 10, a denim blue, and Olympus #5, a mustard yellow, which is one of my favorite colors in their range. This is going to be a teaching sampler, and the two colors will clarify the exact stitching sequence, which is very straightforward anyway in this pattern.  I also just like the combination of blue, yellow and white.

Blue stitching complete, braided skein.

When I've taught sashiko before, the biggest challenge seems to be with beginning and ending a line of stitching using the backstitch approach. So the stitching in this sampler, which is a teaching demo, starts and stops with just simple knots. To end the stitching I used a "needle knot;" my recent attempts at shibori dyeing have improved my skill in this detail, which is similar to making a French knot in embroidery.

To form end knot, loop thread around needle.

Tighten loop.

Using fingernail, hold loop at fabric surface, pulling thread through.

Knot complete.

Completed sampler, right side (left) and reverse.

16 September 2012

Funny Face Productions

Lawrence of Arabia, before.

A long time ago, by approaching the manager of the now-closed AMC Harvard Square cinema and asking nicely, I acquired an actual movie poster - a re-release poster of the film Lawrence of Arabia. I don't know what this says about me as a person, but this movie, with its cast of thousands, not to mention thousands of camels, deployed in beautifully choreographed and filmed battle scenes, is one of my favorites. It's astonishing that Peter O'Toole did not win the Oscar that year, although Gregory Peck was no slouch in To Kill a Mockingbird.

I framed my poster and displayed it proudly, but, unfortunately, it was water-damaged when stored in my in-law's home (see image above).  So, the poster went into the back of a closet for years.

A closet clean-out  forced some action - either fix the poster or discard. Could this poster be saved? A little research revealed that a very well-regarded poster restorer works about an hour away from my suburban Boston home, in Haydenville, Massachusetts.

Lawrence, after having work done.

Ted  Eiseman, doing business as Funny Face Productions, worked wonders on the poster (see image above.) For less than $100, he gave the poster a linen backing and touched up the worst of the damage, so my once warped poster is now ready to re-frame. For a price, Ted is capable of completely restoring almost any damage to a poster, but he worked within my budget to meet my goals, and I am grateful for his flexibility.

Movie poster now has linen backing.

My poster is an odd size - 26 1/4" wide by 20" tall. Movie posters come in a number of standard sizes, and the nearest standard size to my poster is called a "half sheet" and measures 22" x 28". Perhaps, in my youthful ignorance,  I trimmed my poster to fit a standard art poster frame, although the original lithograph registration marks remain in the lower corners.

Ted graciously allowed me to photograph his studio and posters in various stages of restoration. 
Poster awaiting treatment.
Tools of the trade; paste and applicator, lower right.
Treatment tray.
In progress.
8-sheet Carter the Magician poster.
Restored and mounted posters.

After dropping off the poster, we drove into nearby Northampton for lunch at a Moroccan restaurant, Amanouz Cafe.  While we ate a gaggle - flock, bevy, herd? - of middle-aged, incredibly fit-looking cyclists entered the restaurant, all in matching red-and-white knit shirts, piling their helmets, saddlebags and water bottles on a table. Well, we certainly enjoyed our vegetarian couscous and hope they did too.

A unique city hall - Game of Thrones, anyone?
Sights in downtown Northampton.
Amanouz Cafe, with cyclists.

Ted didn't take long to finish work on my Lawrence poster, as well as two others, and we combined poster retrieval with a business meeting in Amherst, home to the flagship campus of the University of Amherst, as well as Amherst College.  I found Amherst delightful, with independents bookstores, and other fun places to shop, including that refuge of waiting wives everywhere, a yarn shop.

Sights of Amherst.
The Creative Needle.

The Creative Needle is located a row of stores, called the Carriage Shops, a short walk from the historic center of town and set back from the main road in a mixed-use building.  Proprietor Elaine, helpful and friendly, maintains a densely-packed Aladdin's Cave of knitting and needlepoint supplies, Of course I bought a skein of yarn for a scarf, with directions for a design Elaine developed herself.

The Blue Marble.

Another wonderful emporium is The Blue Marble, whose owner, Cathie, clearly has expertise in retail buying and display.  Her focus is gifts with a positive narrative, and Cathie presents a selection of  well-priced fair-trade and locally-made goods that are chic, sophisticated and fun.  In the image above Cathie displays a luxurious scarf of wool felted over an up-cycled sari, resulting in a meltingly lovely texture and color.

The store features a combination of items both decorative and useful, including desk accessories that one would actually use, charming tabletop pieces in wood, glass and metal, and scads of hand-knit socks in fine yarn and rich colors. I wanted to buy every pair of earrings, too, but limited myself to one gift, beautifully wrapped as I waited, for a friend.

Can't be grumpy eating here.

 On Cathie's recommendation we ate lunch at Judie's, just down the street. The upbeat decor alone was worth the price of admission, and we broke one of our rules, "Never eat anything larger than your head," as we tackled the immense, crusty pop-overs which are served with house-made apple butter.

DH with popover.







We purchased a jar of the apple butter to go, and headed back to Boston.


12 September 2012

Fresh Corn Salad


Since making textile art is hard work, we need to refuel and take care of ourselves. It's sweet corn season here in New England; here's an "off-the-cob" recipe we enjoy.

Chunks of corn kernels are main feature of the salad.
 
Fresh Corn Salad

Dressing
½ cup cider vinegar
¼ cup sugar
½ tsp salt
few grindings black pepper

Salad
4 ears fresh corn, briefly boiled
½ cup finely diced red onion
½ small cucumber, seeded and chopped
½ cup red or orange sweet pepper, finely chopped
12 cherry or pear tomatoes, halved
3 Tbsp (about 6-8 large leaves) basil, torn
3 Tbsp parsley, torn (optional)
1 Tbsp fresh jalapeno pepper, seeds and veins removed, finely diced 
     (can use canned jalapenos in a pinch)
1 to 2 cups arugula leaves, stems removed

1. For dressing, in glass or stainless bowl, mix together vinegar, sugar, salt and black pepper until sugar is dissolved. Allow dressing to stand while preparing salad.

2. For salad, cut corn kernels from cobs. In large bowl toss corn and remaining ingredients except arugula.

3. At serving, divide arugula among serving plates or bowls. Pour dressing over ingredients in large bowl, mix gently and place over arugula.

Makes 6-8 servings as a side salad. Adapted from Better Homes and Gardens magazine, July 2012

Notes on preparation:

When cooking corn to cut off the cob, break cobs in half - the halves fit better in the pot and are easier to handle when cutting off the kernels. Boil only for a few minutes.

Half cobs fit nicely in pot.

Stand half cob on end, slice off kernels with sharp knife.
After arugula is washed, I just slice off the stems - yes, it's a bit nicer to tear off stems individually, but that's time-consuming.

Trimming arugula.

Trimmed arugula awaits the topping of dressed corn mixture.

Finally, I think this salad would be almost as good with frozen corn, prepared as per package directions, and will try that this winter, when the ears of sweet corn at the farmer's market are a memory.

11 September 2012

An Ode to a Small Town - St. Peter, Minnesota


Sights in and around St. Peter.
Click on any image to enlarge it.

St. Peter, population about 10,000, is home to Lutheran-affiliated Gustavus Adolphus College, now celebrating its sesquicentennial. The town, founded in 1853, narrowly missed out on displacing St. Paul as the capital of Minnesota. The story, detailed in the St. Peter wikipedia page, involved a Henry II-like governor who asked who would rid him of this troubling legislation, a hard-drinking legislator happy to oblige, and another entry in the annals of Lost Opportunities.

Arts Center of St. Peter.

Like many college towns, St. Peter has cultural resources out of proportion to its size, including a wonderful neighborhood Arts Center. The town was ripped apart by a  F4 tornado in 1998; the cultural center was levelled. The new Arts Center is a storefront operation on the broad main street, Minnesota Avenue.  The storefront location creates some odd adjacencies - the next door neighbor is a gun shop - but there is something compelling about a walk-in arts facility cheek-by-jowl with insurance agencies, restaurants and other main street businesses. 

Van Gogh's pick-up truck, parked behind the Arts Center.

Minnesota Avenue.

I flew to St. Peter for a week-end class at the Arts  Center given by Patricia Freiert, textile artist, entitled Shibori in Circles.  (Shibori is a traditional Japanese resist-dye technique.)  On the one-hour drive from Minneapolis, Pat's husband Will, who kindly retrieved me from the airport, made an excellent tour guide and St. Peter booster.  He chatted up the local fare, about which I remained skeptical until lunch and dinner made me a convert.

I'm not smart enough to work at my art and talk at the same time, so the workshop lunch break was a welcome opportunity to chat over delicious salads, soups and sandwiches at the River Rock Cafe, and learn more about my five talented classmates, Robin, Cheryl, Linda, Barry and Edi.  Sadly, my appetite just couldn't manage a famed River Rock ice cream sandwich.

Gourmet satisfaction achieved.

Later on my own I explored the St. Peter Food Co-Op, a better version of a Whole Foods store. Native American culture was in evidence in the offerings on the shelves - Sumac jelly, for example, made by Native Harvest. Though it meant checking my bag, purchases were inevitable.

Colors of St. Peter. Bottom left is wall of warm Minnesota stone.

On the last day of my stay my hosts Pat and Will and their red Prius took me to two more St. Peter sights. Stop one was the First Lutheran church, where I particularly admired Pat's contribution to the worship space.  Her shibori banners celebrate the liturgical year and ameliorate what might otherwise be a rather severe brick-faced interior. 

Shibori banners by Patricia Freiert.
First Lutheran altar, with banner by Pat Freiert.
 The colors of the banners tie the clerestory stained glass to the kneeling pads at the altar.  I'm not sure of the imagery behind the altar, but Pat's banner to the right clearly evokes the Minnesota river, as well as regular rows of crops, and monarch butterflies, emblematic of the days of summer which arrive following the Christian holiday of Pentecost, a "moveable feast" celebrated in late May or early June.

Back into the red Prius for a country drive to the Kasota Prairie, a ninety-or-so acre parcel of virgin prairie land in the Minnesota River valley.

Left, soybeans. Right, prairie.

Flying geese and moonrise over the prairie.

After watching the sun set over the prairie, we returned to St. Peter, the Prius dusty from the dirt roads.  I flew back to Boston with a renewed appreciation for the joy of unexpected discoveries, whether prairie or small town. Thank you, Pat and Will.

Sunset at Kasota Prairie reserve.


04 September 2012

Sturbridge Vintage Fashion and Textile Show

Time travel through fashion.
Labor Day, September 3, 2012, found me driving west on the Massachusetts Turnpike, I-90, to the Host Hotel in Sturbridge. Although the vast Brimfield Antique show is well known, the kick-off event is actually the Sturbridge Vintage Fashion and Textile Show, held thrice-yearly in the ballrooms and conference areas of the hotel, on the Monday of Brimfield Week.

I hadn't been to the show in a while, and noted changes in the offerings - much more menswear, for example, including lumberjack flannel shirts, wingtip Gatsby shoes, sturdy military and work uniforms, and varsity letter sweaters from the "Leave it to Beaver" era.  Less interesting to me was the explosion in the volume of costume jewelry on offer, much of it cheap-looking when it was new, and not improved by age. Still, there were plenty of antique toiles, bolts of vintage ticking, wonderful quilts, feedsacks, cashmere and beaded sweaters, and buttons galore.

Not just western items - textiles from Tibet, Nepal and Bhutan.
Designers come for inspiration, but it is a little too easy these days to take a cell phone photo of, say, a vintage blouse, and send the image to a factory in China.  Abuse of the show's resources has led to a policy of no photography without the permission of the dealer. The images in this blog are from dealers Judy Jungen, Melody Fortier, and Tom Arsenault, who gave kind permission for my photography.

Fashion plates, white dresses, fun buttons.
Click on any image to enlarge it.



03 September 2012

Elin Noble Marbling on Cloth exhibit

Colo Colo gallery,  New Bedford.
Elin Noble: A Grain of Sand, is the eponymous title of an exhibit of monoprints by Elin Noble, at the Colo Colo Gallery, 29 Centre St., New Bedford, from August 23 through September 9, 2012.  Elin is a member of my quilt guild,  and a wizard with dyes, paints and pigments.

 

The monoprints are created through marbling on cloth. Basically, water is thickened with a sizing to alter its surface tension. Various pigments are then floated on the surface; the pigments can be manipulated with various tools to make patterns. The patterns are then transferred to  paper or cloth  laid on top of the surface. 

The images have a lapidary quality, hence the English name for the technique, marbling. Marbled papers have been used for some time in fine hand book-binding; anyone who has used 19th century books may have noticed the marbled endpapers in the old volumes, such as the one below, which also has an antique bookplate.
Image source: http://www.squidoo.com/marbled-paper?utm_source=google&utm_medium=imgres&utm_campaign=framebuster
Grain of Sand quilt.
Many of Elin's prints remind me of fractal imagery, and have a "world within worlds" quality when scrutinized closely; the exhibit title Grain of Sand refers to a poem by William Blake, 19th century English writer and artist.

Grain of Sand print, detail. Click to enlarge.
To see the world in a grain of sand,
and a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.

         Stanza one, from Auguries of Innocence

31 August 2012

Shibori Circles with Patricia Freiert

Three days - three shibori scarves.
Click on any of the images to enlarge.

Minnesota is known for many things: rivers and lakes, blizzards and tornadoes, the Twin Cities -  not to mention the Twins baseball team - and a plethora of educational and cultural institutions. Thriving arts centers can be found even in the smallest of Minnesota towns, such as St. Peter, population 10,000, more or less.
Entrance, Arts Center of Saint Peter.
During a recent hot August week-end six students, working with textile artist Patricia Freiert, made magic at the Arts Center of St. Peter. Using shibori techniques, and white scarves as our blank canvasses, we created unique, colorful patterns through the alchemy of indigo dye, using nothing more sophisticated than needle and thread.  Shibori is a resist dyeing technique, perfected in Japan, in which fabric is tied and shaped in deliberate designs and patterns.  When the shaped cloth is submersed in a vat, dye is prevented from penetrating the tightly bound areas, which "resist" the dye. 

Patricia Freiert, whom we all called Pat, studied shibori extensively when living in Japan during an academic exchange program. A professor emerita of Classics at nearby Gustavus Adolphus College, she now works full-time as a fiber artist and sells her wonderful scarves in galleries nationwide and in the American Craft Council shows.

Pat's focus on circles created with shibori gave the workshop a theme, as well as an insight into how technique interacts with design and motif.  In an indication of her dedication to her students, Pat actually lugged her own indigo vat from her home for us, and had two additional vats available: black and gray, so we had a welcome, but not overwhelming, degree of choice for scarf color schemes.

After settling into our basement workroom, and after brief introductions, we began with a clamped resist technique, or itajime.  

Itajime in progress.
Itajime combines folding and clamping of fabric. We fan-folded our scarves lengthwise, then continued folding accordion-style into equilateral triangles (top left image, above.)  Pat explained the folding sequence using paper, which was a good teaching technique.  After folding,  we sandwiched the fabric triangle between two matching Plexiglass discs, and clamped it all together with a standard C-clamp. Wooden discs are traditional, but they must be encased in plastic wrap, so that the dye color doesn't transfer to the wood - any residual pigment might discolor the next project for which the wooden discs are used.  Plexiglass doesn't absorb the dye, so no wrapping is needed. 

After three minutes in the indigo, the fabric and clamp assembly was left to damp dry (in yellow bowl, above)  and, when unfolded, revealed a "circle of circles" (drying rack, above image.)

Itajime samples.

Some of the samples above were dyed in a pale gray fiber-reactive dye before folding and clamping; hence the pretty tonal look.

Robin watches as indigo oxidizes.
Of course, itajime can be made using clamped square blocks too, as our classmate Robin demonstrated above with her lovely piece of white squares forming larger squares. The piece in the image above has a greenish cast - when fabrics are removed from the indigo they present as algae green;  as the indigo takes up oxygen from the air the fabric transforms into the desired deep blue. This is one reason it's important to disturb the indigo as little as possible and keep the pot covered when not in use, to prevent oxygen from entering and weakening the vat.

Next, we moved onto a technique new to me: hotaru, or firefly.  Again, we fan-folded our scarves lengthwise, as for itajime, then continued folding to create triangular, rectangular or square bundles, as desired. We also made small cotton balls by wrapping thread tightly around cotton wadding.  A pair of the cotton balls are positioned on opposite sides of the fabric bundle, with a small piece of paper or plastic wrap under each wad to act as a sort of washer.

Finally, using a long doll-maker's needle - it looked like a stiletto - we stitched through the layers. All the way through the fabric and the wads, and then back again. Manipulating needle and thread through all the material was tough, and I finally ended up going through the "leaves" of the folded fabric a few at a time, trying to keep layers and cotton wads in alignment. One pair of cotton balls was enough for me, but different patterns can be created by using additional pairs.

Hotaru, in progress.
The left image above shows a gray-dyed folded scarf with a cotton wad on top (there's another wad on the back); the whole thing was stitched through and cinched tight. On the right in the image are cotton wads before and after dyeing; one is shown upside down to reveal how the spherical shape leads to a gradation in the penetration of the dye to the scarf. This results in the "fuzzy" edge that looks like the glow of a firefly.  This technique was exasperating, but worth it.

Linda and Pat unveil Linda's terrific hotaru scarf.
Hotaru samples.
I had pre-dyed my scarf in gray, then it went into a vat of luscious black; it's the scarf at the bottom left in the sample image above.

These two techniques filled our first Friday evening of the three-part week-end workshop.  Next day, when we were in the studio from 9 to 4, with a delicious lunch break at the nearby River Rock cafe, we move onto stitching and binding using a makiage stand.

Pat elucidates a makiage sampler.
Makiage combines stitching and binding; sometimes areas are capped too, a technique which essentially waterproofs an area, totally excluding any dye.  First step was to tape down the scarf and draw a pattern, using a vanishing marker.  Almost any shape can be depicted in shibori, but of course our theme was circles.

Pat uses a compass to draw concentric circles.
Once the pattern is drawn, the artist stitches along the lines with a single thread, using running stitches about 1/4" apart; evenness is not too critical.  Pat gave us #4 milliner's needles, which worked well. When all outlines are stitched, the thread is gathered tightly, wrapped around three times, and tied off securely using the kamosage knot. I had that knot down by the end of the day; it's basically the same technique used in casting on in knitting.

Circles stitched, cinched and knotted, ready to bind.
Using the makiage stand, Pat wraps thread tightly around the cinched circles.
Pat gave a demonstration on her maikage stand, and then we went to work.  I used one of the itajime Plexiglass discs and a flat plastic template from home, used for marking my quilt tops. First, I taped down my fabric on the table, and calculated the spacing of my five circles. Design-wise, I like the contrast of rigid geometry with the randomness inherent in the dyeing process.

Scarf taped and marked.




Plexi and flat plastic templates; vanishing marking pen.

After marking the circles with a special vanishing marker Pat obtained for us from Japan, I stitched the first circle clockwise, remembering that "the first stitch goes down and the last stitch ends up" - makes it easier to pull the thread to cinch the circle tight. Complete the circle by overlapping one stitch.
Stitched circle - knot and thread both on right side of fabric.
After stitching the inner circle, I left a bit of slack in the thread and stitched the outer circle - no need to tie off after the inner circle.  I used cotton thread purchased at a shibori supplier in Arimatsu, but Pat recommends Cebelia crochet thread size 20, by DMC. The all cotton thread swells when wet, making the stitching and knots even tighter, for a successful resist process.

Stitching the outer circle.

Circles stitched.

Class hard at work, stitching away.
Circles, stitched, gathered and tied.
Once my circles were all stitched, I cinched the threads and tied them off. Using a bobbin of the same thread, and the makiage stand, I wrapped the cinched bundles. The metal arm of the stand holds the knotted thread - Pat automatically replaces the end knot after every thread cut - while the artist "weaves" the fabric bundle between the bobbin and the thread held taut by the metal arm.  By my fifth circle, I at least had a notional acquaintance with the technique.

Metal arm of makiage stand holds knotted thread.
Pat, ever cheerful and patient, assists student.
Wrapped circle bundles and special vinyl.
After wrapping the circles in thread, I capped the tips using rectangles of a special thin but tough and pliable vinyl Pat ordered from Japan. Lots of thread and lots of knots.

The next step is to soak the scarves so they are thoroughly wet before entering the dye bath. This ensures better dye dispersal. After dyeing, the knots are carefully removed with a seam ripper. It's easiest to do this when the scarves are dry, but in a workshop setting the artist can't always wait.

Pat prepared the dye activator while scarves soak in water.
Robin patiently removes stitching from her dyed scarf.
Hands are blue after removing the knots and stitches.
Once all the thread is removed, the circles are revealed!  My scarf of five circles is on the right in the image below. The all-white centers are where the vinyl capping prevented any dye from reaching the silk. A variety of techniques result in the varied motifs seen on the scarves to the left and in the center. Really, the possibilities are endless.

Variations of makiage shibori circles on silk.
The makiage work was the focal point of the day, but Pat also shared many other examples of stitched techniques from her extensive collection.  We also learned  a "quickie" shibori technique, called origami rings, using a cotton bandana square. The square is fan-folded into fourths, then folded into a packet, as shown below.

Fold sequence, clockwise from top left.
Our "squares" weren't perfectly square, so there was little "leftover" fabric to finesse. No matter.  We squeezed and tied the corners, soaked the bandanas in water, then in they went into the indigo. And voila! White circles in a blue field. This simple project, which was a relief after the challenges of the makiage stand, gave instant gratification and might be a very good introduction to dyeing for grades 5-8, too.
Left, folded and tied bandana. Right, rings in an indigo field.
From Pat's collection; dyed but not unfolded.
Pat explains another stitching technique.
On the final morning of the workshop Pat introduced  the futate and mame techniques - basically, tying fabric around small items such as beans (mame) or small container lids (futate). This concept is probably the most straight forward of the techniques we covered, and I was glad Pat introduced it on the last day, when it was a bit harder to remain as focused.

When a bean or lid is covered with plastic wrap, or other waterproof material, before tying this is called capping, or boshi, and results in a completely white area where no dye penetrated at all.

Scarf tied around jar lid and around a floral gem. Gem is capped in plastic wrap.


The three days went by quickly and rarely have I worked alongside such a nice group of people. I am not smart enough to talk and work at the same time, so the lunch break on Saturday was the perfect way to relax and get to know one another a bit better. We were a varied group - a professor of social work, two retired nursing specialists, a weaver-spinner, one massage therapist and me, all united, though, by a thoughtful teacher and an eagerness to explore the possibilities of design on cloth.

Tied and stitched circles on scarves.
Our small, but select, group.