Red Thread Studio: Slow Cloth, New Cloth, Art Cloth

Full Thunder Moon

We are forever tied
Still on the run
To the medicine man
For all the sad things we've done
    -- Shawn Colvin, Orion in the Sky

I saw the crescent
You saw the whole of the moon.
   -- The Waterboys, Whole of the Moon

Tonight is the full moon, called the Full Buck Moon or Full Thunder Moon. Jessica Prentice calls it the Wort Moon, an old word for medicinal plants, in her book Full Moon Feast: Food and the Hunger for Connection, an esoteric and fascinating book about food and plant traditions.

Today is also the anniversary of my father's death, so that's been on my mind today. He would never have said that he was in any way creative or spiritual, but I 'm not so sure. He was a physicist, the branch of science that seems to embrace art, spirit and mysticism more than most, and he loved the elegance and beauty and mystery of it.

As I've written before, he was both brilliant and wounded, and it's impossible for me to think about one without the other. It wasn't easy being his daughter and I'm still working on unraveling the tangled knots of it.

But he loved music, art, books and poetry; he took us to museums and movies and brought home The Monkees and The Seekers and Joan Baez and Ian & Sylvia albums. He would sing Red River Valley and Four Strong Winds. He had a rule that it was always okay to spend money on books and music, a "rule" that I call upon to this day every time I need to rationalize an iTunes or bookstore visit. During his illness, he'd quote A. E. Housman's sad poem, The Garden of Proserpine:

From too much love of living
From hope and fear set free
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no man lives forever
That dead men rise up never
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.

So, my own river is a little weary today but I'll be back soon with something more textile-ish. Put on some music, have too much live of living and make this Thunder Moon your own on this high summer evening. Jessica Prentice suggests making root beer for this moon; or you could just have a root beer float on me.

moon photo mosaic by yeimaya -- some rights reserved.

All Ebb, No Flow

I had a friend who described me as someone who wakes up every day ready to engage in hand-to-hand combat with her demons. This week Team Demon is a little ahead -- not by much, and not for long, but I feel like I'm moving through water these days. All the doors have closed, but there are no windows opening and it's getting hot in here. You've been there, I'm sure.

So you try everything -- pushing the river, surrendering to the river, being joyful though you've considered all the facts, as Wendell Berry said. You do your work and yoga and meditation and dance and more work and creating and reaching out and therapy and sending resumes and reading oh-so-helpful books and eating right and thinking positive and good grief, where is the fun? The excitement? The buzz? The magic? The prize? The romance? The passion? It's all overdue.

But this helps. I will snap out of it and return to the mantra -- our topic. And speaking of overdue, I headed back to the library to return the book on living complaint-free because someone else had it on hold -- and clearly I didn't finish the book -- but I found something less pious and much more interesting: another gorgeous Thames & Hudson textile book. Quilting, Patchwork & Applique: A World Guide is far more than the title or cover suggests. I almost passed it by, thinking it would focus on traditional patchwork quilts, but it is really a comprehensive survey of global textile techniques and culture. There are hundreds of  beautiful color illustrations of garments, household textiles, ceremonial and ritual textiles, recycled-fabric patchwork, embroidery from India, Asia, Europe, Africa -- it's encyclopedic and stunning, and full of inspiration.

The book is recent, published just last fall, so it has a very current sensibility in the text. She mentions the Gee's Bend quilts -- I'm going to see the exhibition on Saturday. I wonder how it will be to see them after seeing so many images of them, and hearing the story for so long in the media.

Armchair Textile Travels on Sunday Morning

Acey of Sparkling Lotus-Land and Nichobella has written a wonderful review of African Textiles by John Gillow. This book looks magnificent . . . it's expensive but not all that much more than a tank of gas these days, even in my 17-year-old Honda, and will certainly last longer and inspire more. After reading her review I realized that a book I'd checked out from the library last week, called Traditional Indian Textiles, was also by John Gillow. He seems to have a new book forthcoming on Indian textiles as well.

John Gillow is a true global textile explorer (John, wherever you are, do you need an assistant?) and has an incredibly wide-ranging fascination for history, culture and aesthetics seen through the textile lens. As more and more textile traditions are lost, research like his becomes more important.

If Indian textiles interest you, I also recommend Tradition and Beyond: Handmade Indian Textiles, which seems to be more available now. I found my copy at a local store that stocks used and unusual new books, and I'm so glad I bought it. It too was a splurge at the time, but I've never regretted having it for even an instant.

This blog by photographer Claude Renault has a wealth of beautiful photographs of India, and you'll get a feel for the color palette and human emotion of the country seen through an artist's eye.

It's amazing how rich with pattern and color and design the world is. These treasuries of pattern and color in India and Africa contrast quite a bit with the book I'm reading on the Japanese wabi-sabi aesthetic, where colors are subdued, pattern is very subtle, and restful space is paramount.

And if you'd like some world music to go with your textile journey, I've been listening to the beautiful Rise by Anoushka Shankar, Ravi Shankar's daughter. The music is rooted in traditional Indian structures, yet modern and eclectic in its sensibility and very accessible to Western listeners. The song Beloved is transcendent.

photograph of Indian textile by Celeste Goulding.

Even Here We Are: Some Thoughts on Beauty

It's a beautiful flower in your garden
But the most beautiful by far
Is the one growing wild in the garbage dump
Even here
Even here we are.
 -- Even Here We Are, Paul Westerberg

Out of all those kinds of people
You've got a face with a view.
        -- This Must Be The Place, Talking Heads

I've been trying to do my Qualities of Slow Cloth series in order (as in the original post) though it really doesn't matter -- the order was not carefully thought out. But there we have it, and the next quality up for exploration is beauty. Writing about beauty, and what it means in the context of textile art, craft and culture, is -- ha! -- not easy. This might just be one of many posts exploring it. So, let's just call this some thoughts on beauty.

The art world gets snobbish about beauty sometimes, as if to make art that delights the eye is weak and insipid and somehow easier. It's true that beauty sometimes feels less intellectually challenging, because it bypasses the brain to just arrest the senses. To sidetrack the argument, we can talk about an aesthetic. To me an aesthetic is more a personal sense of what is beautiful, and an intention to move toward it, while beauty often suggests a conventional standard that isn't what we're aiming for here.

Our perception of beauty is relative. They say that homely people grow more beautiful with intimacy, while the conventionally beautiful, if lacking other compelling gifts, lose their luster in the eyes of others with time. If meaning, significance and memory grow, people become more beautiful in our eyes. The same is true with some objects -- worn patchwork scrap quilts come to mind. And we're at our human, artisan best when we create something and use our hands and imaginations and hearts to make it not just purposeful, but also beautiful in a way that is true to our own aesthetic. This is true for words, too -- there are words whose only purpose is to identify or communicate something, but when we add some elegance or rhythm to what we say, it serves a larger need. It's not what you say, it's how you say it . . .

And because we are so compelled to make things more beautiful than necessary, and we have been all through the ages in every culture, I have to believe that it's in our collective DNA to seek and to create beauty. It nourishes us and it connects us to spirit -- some of the most beautiful things made by humans are tributes to spirit in some form: magnificent cathedrals, awesome statues of Buddha, gardens, art.

In her wonderful book A Natural History of the Senses, Diane Ackerman talks about how researchers have tried to codify what makes a stranger's face appear beautiful to us. There is a certain symmetry that we respond to, and it can be measured in some pretty nuanced ways. But of course, we all know that we love the faces we love for their uniqueness and their "flaws" as much or more than for their perfection.

So it is with everything.  The Japanese call this recognition of character wabi-sabi -- humble and imperfect beauty. I've just checked out Robyn Griggs Lawrence's book The Wabi-Sabi House: The Japanese Art of Imperfect Beauty, from my (beautiful) local library. I'll let you know what I learn.

Until then, food for thought: Where does beauty fit in your work? What's the most beautiful thing you own, or the most beautiful thing in your life, and what makes it so? What's the most beautiful thing you've made, and how do you feel about it? Do you feel pressured by conventional ideas of beauty, in your life and person and in your art or craft? Comments welcome.

Musical Interlude and Fabric Vegetables

Music is important in my life, though I don't have a gift for it myself. I've put in my petition for a beautiful singing voice in my next life. In this life, though, I can enjoy and support the musical gifts of others and let their music inform my art. One of my best jobs ever -- in terms of content, if not pay -- was working for e-town in its early days, where I got to meet some of my musical heroes. Here's what's on my musical radar right now:

• I saw a young singer-songwriter named Anais Mitchell at a house concert here in Boulder, and I'm completely smitten with her songs. She's a true artist and frighteningly talented, also hardworking and charming. If you have the chance to see her live, take it, and you'll be able to tell somebody about it when she's really famous. To keep this on-topic, she has a poignant song about wearing a dress her grandmother made and the generational seismic shift, called I Wear Your Dress -- here are the lyrics:

This is just to tell you that I wear your dress sometimes
The one you made with gold brocade and the empire waistline
You fitted to your figure when it looked just like my own
That was Jersey in the fifties, and the women stayed at home

So you laid your paper pattern on the table in between
The silverware and napkins and the Harper's magazines
From a slow suburban season that is nothing but a dream
To your granddaughter

This is just to tell you that I wear your dress sometimes
I wear it down to the bar in town and dance around all night
Talking and joking, swearing and smoking like any stranger in a crowd
And nobody stares, nobody cares to tell me I'm not allowed
I am allowed

And my body, by the letter of the law, is still my own
When I lay down in the darkness, unburdened and alone
With the liberty you've given like the clothing you've outgrown
To your granddaughter

• Not on-topic, but I'm going to tell you anyway: for those of you who remember Delaney & Bonnie ("Only You Know and I Know"), Bonnie Bramlett has a brand-new CD out, and my dear friend and gifted artist  Steve Conn wrote the title song. It's called Beautiful, and it's a gorgeous, sad song -- I like 'em that way -- about one of those deeply intimate, painful moments in a relationship when your soul is laid bare.

Okay, back to textile art and craft and my attention-deficient Internet wandering. I was looking at designer Lena Corwin's blog this morning because I'm interested in her forthcoming book, Printing By Hand. That led me to these wonderful recycled fabric scallions and other vegetables by Sian Keegan. I have a total weak spot for whimsical fabric fruits and vegetables, and for fabric with food prints too -- I even bought a Japanese craft book a few months ago just for the endearing fabric pears on the cover. So maybe this is just the day to get an errand or two done, put in some time with work, and then crank up the stereo and make a pear.

In the Meantime

By the end of the week, God willing and the creek don't rise, I should finally have my high-speed Internet issues resolved. Liberation. NOW we'll see some blogging, people. It's not like I live in the backwoods -- hardly -- but there are peculiarities in my little microcosm that have made it a challenge.

Meanwhile, a few links and photos of unexpected pleasures this week. If I were in England this week, I would try to find my way here, to the Stroudwater Textiles Festival and Symposium. For the rest of us, that link will take you to a page that has further links to several very intriguing artist sites. This looks like an extravaganza for those of us with the Slow Cloth orientation.

Maggie Baxter from Australia is an exhibiting artist at Stroudwater whose work looks quite amazing in the multicultural Slow Cloth vein. She doesn't appear to have a Web site of her own, but you can read about her collaborations with textile artisans in India here.

My friend Betsy sent me a link to Digital Threads, a project of the Textile Museum of Canada. This is a rich and beautiful Web site that focuses on some very innovative, forward-thinking textile projects, but also has links to past exhibitions that explore a very full range of textile arts from traditional to contemporary.

Arlee sent a link to Pleasure-Purpose, a Toronto exhibition that is "an attempt to navigate craft and question its contemporary role." It seems like the textile world just continues to explode in the United Kingdom, Canada, and Australia . . . maybe it takes the past or present influence of a Queen.

But then there's Japan too. My brother and mother went to the new International Quilt Study Center museum and sent me a beautiful package from the gift shop: these Japanese fabrics from Kasuri Dyeworks and Stitch Dissolve Distort by Valerie Campbell-Harding and Maggie Grey. If you love Japanese textile arts -- or stunning displays of skill and beauty -- definitely visit Jane's blog on Japanese embroidery. She left me a lovely comment here -- thank you, Jane, and thank you for your subtle, gorgeous work.

And last of all for today, my dear friend Lisa went to New Orleans for the Jazz and Heritage Festival and brought me a God of Love. I've had a few of those in my life in mortal form, but never one of fabric.

Here he is, very powerful, slightly alarming -- because love should be a little dangerous -- and completely enchanting:

 

The Odometer Rolls Over

I've had 10,000 page views on this blog since December. I realize that's peanuts to a lot of people in the big global Internet blogging world, but it sounds pretty good to me, especially since I've not yet made a custom banner, attached the blog to an easy URL, set up an RSS feed, a blogroll (which will be voluminous, and I have to figure out how to organize it properly) or any of that stuff. So I really want to thank everyone who has visited and especially everyone who has commented. I feel lucky to know you, and I do feel connected to a global community of extraordinarily creative and interesting people.

As far as I can tell, viewer #10,000 was someone googling for John Robshaw Textiles , a company I've written about.  I was just at that site the other day, wishing I could buy one his exquisite duvet covers and looking to see if they were hiring for any marketing/pr/global textile explorer positions. Sadly, they are not.

Meanwhile, I saw this week that the current issues of both Vogue Knitting and Vogue Patterns magazine have feature articles on sustainable and "green" materials and supplies. They're both good resource articles. Some of the hyperbole (i.e. bamboo, the perfect fiber) gives me a green headache and green fatigue -- weren't we all exhausted with Earth Day hype and ready to go smoke cigarettes and litter and boldly throw a glass jar in the regular trash by the time it was over this week? And tired of celebrities claiming that they've always been really green, for decades, and deeply concerned about the planet? Really? Anyway, it worries me that too many exaggerated claims will ultimately leave people disillusioned.

But most of the information in the VP and VK articles is very good, and I'm thrilled to see it in the knitting and sewing mainstream. I'm writing an article on organic and sustainable fabrics myself, for a new sewing magazine to be out this summer that I think will be very creative and inspiring.

I also received my review copy of Sustainable Fashion: Why Now?, a book of essays edited and conceived of by the brilliant Janet Hethorn, a professor at the University of Delaware (which offers a graduate certificate program in the business of sustainable fashion) and Connie Ulasewicz of San Francisco State University. This is intended as a textbook (with a big textbook price) but it looks very readable and very enlightening for anyone thinking about a clothing business or just a better understanding of clothing and textiles in our lives today. I will read and review.

Now, though, I'm going to go finish a skirt that's been on the worktable forever so I can move on. I have a long list of projects and need to complete some craft and make some art.

One more thing before I go -- I've been resisting watching The Last Lecture because, you know, it's become such a thing, and also I knew it would hit close to home -- my father was a scientist who died of cancer at 63, and we lived in Pittsburgh for a few years, though he didn't teach at Carnegie Mellon but at the University of Pittsburgh. This morning I read the transcript. It is, as everyone says, very poignant, sweet, funny and smart, and truly well worth viewing or reading. Share it with your kids and take the time to watch. I promise you will laugh and cry. Randy Pausch is still with us, and though his prognosis is still terminal, I hope he's here for a long time. Now go be well and follow your dreams.

The Cloth & Culture NOW Project

Cloth & Culture NOW, an exhibition with accompanying book, has just opened in England. I was so excited to discover this, as the project illustrates all the global principles of what I call Slow Cloth in a major and visionary format. Here is information from the Web site

Cloth & Culture NOW investigates the links between contemporary textile practice, strong traditional practice and overlapping global influences, offering a framework for the study of contemporary textile practice within a cultural specific,  trans-national and cross-cultural context.

Cloth & Culture NOW brings together, for the first time, contemporary textile works from Estonia, Finland, Japan, Latvia, Lithuania, and the UK. which most clearly exemplify:   

• Contemporary textile practice as an expression of cultural identity

• Contemporary textile practice that has emerged from traditional practice

• Cross-cultural/trans-national interface in contemporary textile practice that has emerged from traditional practice.

35 artists have been selected as Case Studies for the book and to take part in the exhibition.

Cloth & Culture NOW highlights exciting  and innovative contemporary textile practice from areas where there has been a strong tradition of textile linked to specific cultural identity. The work of these contemporary practitioners reflects that cultural specificity while also responding to cross-cultural and trans-national influences.

Most of the selected artists have made new work for the exhibition, reflecting the social, political and utilitarian history of textile within the context of shifting experiences of culture and tradition. These works include the contemporary use of traditional techniques and materials: knit, tapestry, embroidery, felt making, plus explorations of new materials and technology, large architectural installations, performance work, video, narrative based textiles, decorative textiles.

Cloth & Culture NOW opens at the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts, University of East Anglia,   on 29th January 2008 until 1st June 2008 and then tours to the Whitworth Art Gallery, University of Manchester in the Autumn of 2008, followed by venues in participating countries during 2009.

This is very contemporary and sometimes challenging work from master artists in an international framework, yet they are creating this work stitch by stitch, as we all do. There is an education program as well, and the show will travel. Here is an article from a local UK site with quotes from Lesley Millar, the professor of textile culture who curated the exhibition and leads the project.

Whether we are working in our modest studios at home on some small project or part of this kind of sophisticated forward-thinking exhibition, the Slow Cloth approach can be rich with meaning and possibility as modern expression, rooted in tradition and connected to culture. Stitch on.

                                                   

Betsy Ross Would Be Proud

I've been supporting John Edwards in the primaries, but that doesn't keep me from feeling the thrill of possibility with Barack Obama, or the immense satisfaction of seeing a strong, smart woman as a serious presidential candidate. I'm a fan of Bill Richardson too -- I hope he ends up with a meaningful position in a Democratic administration next year.

I'd been wondering if any of the candidates had a connection to textiles or craft when I visited Kyra's Black Threads blog -- she has a link to Fiber Artists for Obama. And we know that John Edwards's father worked in a textile mill, and he talks eloquently about the demise of domestic textile production. Any other connections to textile art or garments? I don't think we'll see Hillary admitting to any needle arts -- too loaded for her -- but maybe if they win, Bill as First Mate  will continue to expand the White House collection of American crafts that Hillary began in 1993.

Or maybe he'll pick up the knitting or quilting needle himself -- it'd be good for his heart and keep him out of trouble, right? How about it, Bill? Take up the Slow Cloth cause and promote and protect the work of fiber artists around the globe and sustainability in textiles. Call me if you need some help.

Or maybe Obama will win and really bring attention to the contribution of African-American artists to our culture. In textiles, there's the Gee's Bend quilters, and much more. Faith Ringgold is one of our elder godmothers of contemporary quilting, and her work is spectactular, political and inspiring. I am also a huge fan of multimedia artist Betye Saar.

I had the pleasure of meeting Betye Saar once, when I worked at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago and she and her daughter Alison Saar had a joint exhibition. In the main gallery Julian Schnabel had an exhibition that was suffocating in its own art-world egotism and posturing. The Saars had a much smaller gallery and an absolute jewel of a show that quietly played second fiddle to Mr. Schnabel. But their authenticity, integrity and spirit was so immense that for me it far overshadowed the big whoop in the main gallery. The Saars gave me an unforgettable lesson about the meaning of making art versus "success" in the art world, and also about using culture and gender references in art in an effective and unapologetic way.

I thought one of my recent magazines also had reviews of African-American textile arts books, but my highly refined controlled-chaos organizational system is failing me. I'll find it. Meanwhile, the magazine stack is getting bigger. My new issues of Selvedge (No. 21, The Responsibility Issue) and Surface Design (Winter 2008, Structured Surfaces) came yesterday -- both breathtaking. I think Selvedge integrates its graphic design and its content better than anybody to produce a truly extraordinary, appetizing, collectable journal. And it totally, totally makes me want to move to England for a year or two to immerse myself in the textile world there.  

Surface Design editor Patricia Malarcher has tremendous authority and impeccable, sophisticated taste and intelligence, as well as being an artist herself, and her voice and sensibilities make this magazine extremely valuable too. In this new issue, my first stop will be the article on artist Yvonne Morton, who is inspired by textile arts of the Congo -- this is truly a Slow Cloth artist all the way.

Over on Beading at the Beach, BeadBabe49 questions meditation and stitching, and whether other artists talk about it and recognize it. I thought of her when I read Patricia Malarcher's editorial in Surface Design. She quotes Lenore Tawney: "I'm not just patiently doing it. It's done with devotion." Patricia goes on to say:

The sense of devotion embedded in structure is a subliminal text that is frequently visible in artworks of fibrous materials. The incremental repetitive gestures that accumulate into woven, knotted, looped, wrapped, or pieced-together surfaces leave evidence of quiet, and quieting, time dedicated to making.

Through that sense of quiet and meditative process, we can emerge and give our work a strong and passionate voice.

What Is Novel Is What We Have Not Seen And Heard Before

There is a wonderful tutorial on sashiko at the Purl Bee blog. This Japanese craft has elements of quilting and of a very ordered embroidery; the thread is heavier than Western quilting thread, no frame or hoop is used, and traditional stitching patterns are geometric and symmetrical. Mari explains the process in detail with wonderful and very helpful photographs.

According to Nancy Shriber in her lovely Sashiko Handbags 14 On 14 book,

Sashiko was originally designed as a mending technique to quilt together several layers of fabric for warmth and durability or for strengthening a single layer of fabric. Like quilting in America, sashiko had humble beginnings. The Japanese have been doing sashiko for practical sewing purposes since the early 18th century. It was developed as a way to recycle fabric and to extend the life of the garment. Sashiko is a running stitch sewn in repeating or interlocking patterns through one or more layers of fabric. As with many art forms, most of the stitch designs are simplified representations of things found in nature such as plants, birds, and clouds.

Visit Nancy's Contemporary Sashiko Web site gallery -- she has instructions there for this beautiful, simple wallet/checkbook cover as an introduction to contemporary sashiko:

Despite its humble beginnings, as with other Japanese crafts, sashiko is a beautiful form with infinite levels of skill and subtlety. In the United States we tend to want to make everything quick and easy and oversimplified -- and at the same time, create products to sell  that may not be necessary or even desirable to the heart of the practice.

As a result, sometimes the beauty and nuance of textile traditions are really lost on us. For instance: As I was searching around for information on sashiko, I came across this site on the Akan Cultural Symbols Project via Quilt Ethnic. In the Akan culture in Ghana, traditional cloth is woven to communicate with a rich and specific language -- here's one pattern from the site:

EMAA DA - NOVELTY

               

Symbol of     EXPERIENTIAL KNOWLEDGE, CREATIVITY, NOVELTY, and INNOVATION
From the proverb:  Dea emmaa da eno ne dea yennhunu na yennte bi da. 
Literal translation:  What  is novel is what we have not seen and heard before

Now, I know I've seen similar African fabrics and have only seen color and pattern, with no idea about the rich conveyance of concepts, messages, language and communication woven into the cloth by master artisans. This richness and meaning exists in textiles from so many cultures. This is part of the Slow Cloth approach: respecting the significance -- as well as enjoying the beauty -- of world textiles.