Red Thread Studio

Feeling the Felt

As I visit the Smithsonian museums, I'm wishing I could get to the coolest of them all, the 

Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum in New York. I've mentioned the Fashioning Felt exhibition; definitely go and visit the exhibition Web site and the Museum blog.

Artist Janice Arnold made and installed a yurt at the exhibition. From the Museum blog:   

The traditional yurt is a trellis-frame tent covered with thick, humble felts made from raw sheep’s wool. The largest, most elaborately decorated tent is the place of celebration, songs and epic poems. Arnold’s design is a fantasia on the yurt form, which is still the preferred environment for events of spiritual significance, even as nomadic peoples become more urbanized. 

Arnold will create a total environment from her luxurious handmade felts, which combine Merino wool with silk and metallic fibers and sheer fabrics. Her technique allows for the creation of richly textured areas in combination with gossamer sheer ones. The wall panels will use that sheerness to maintain the light-filled feeling of the Conservatory, while the leaded glass pattern of the ceiling inspired a mosaic of sheer and opaque areas. The window seat will be covered with a thick, dense, hand-beveled felt, to enable visitors to experience felt’s tactility and contemplate both its history and versatility. 

The fabric panels composing the walls and ceiling are so large that they have to be felted outdoors at Arnold’s studio in Centralia, Washington. Nomads felt in the spring and fall, but Arnold’s team has been working through the winter to complete the installation. Unseasonably cold temperatures coupled with record snowfall have made it challenging work indeed. But the Palace Yurt, both traditionally and in this contemporary interpretation, is the place to gather for celebration when the felting is done.

This sounds amazing, doesn't it? The sketches and samples from Arnold's sketchbook, at the yurt link above, are -- my favorite word -- fascinating, and very beautiful. Here's one:

 

sketch by Janice Arnold, Cooper-Hewitt Design Museum

I found a photograph taken inside the finished yurt here, on a lovely writing and poetry blog by Patricia Markert. 

Thinking about the yurt, I couldn't help but think about the stories in the news last week of tent cities around the country, growing alarmingly fast. Nomads living in fabric houses aren't new to the world, but we've lost the skills to make and use these beautiful, safe and portable homes. It takes skill to fabricate them, imagination to beautify them, and a highly developed sense of community and mobility, I'm sure, to survive in them. 

I like the roundness of the yurt; like belly dance, it's all about powerful feminine shapes, where most of our housing and much of our movement in the West is angles and planes. 

Here's another photograph from the exhibition, with more curvaceousness. As I've mentioned before, I haven't succumbed to the felt craze, but as I see these images I think I could. I like it best when color is added, I admit, since one of felt's most appealing qualities is the ability to hold saturated, gorgeous color. 

Bodhisattva, Would You Take Me By The Hand

Lots of walking today. My favorite way to explore a city is on foot; there's really no substitute. I've walked miles across London, through the vertical mazes of Hong Kong, and as a resident in the streets of New York and Chicago and San Francisco. Why be in a dank, crowded subway when you can see the city? 

Here in Washington, I've usually been here for trade shows and not as a tourist; I've often been to the National Gallery but not done the full-on walking thing, and now I have the chance. My suite is only a little more than a mile from the White House, but once you're down in the museum zone, you're clocking some miles. 

I think it's worth noting that our highest halls of government and power are surrounded by art, lots of art, and culture. These museums are open 364 days a year, and you just walk in; no charge, they belong to We the People, damn it. And, at least at the Freer, where I went today, there were no guards in the rooms; nothing but -- come on in, make yourself at home, a quick security check of the bag, and enjoy. There didn't even seem to be restrictions on photographs. 

The Freer Gallery is a little jewel of a museum that had an interesting show of paintings by James McNeill Whistler in the context of his interest in Asian art. Charles Freer, who founded the museum, had parallel interests in ancient Asian and contemporary American art, and he felt that in Whistler these two paths converged. I also saw the beautiful Japanese tea bowls repaired with silver and gold; in a year when I've felt so irreparably damaged and broken sometimes, there's surely a message there. I saw galleries of Japanese screens and scrolls, Islamic decorative gorgeousness, Buddhist art, and some beautiful statues of Shiva. Below is a large 12th century Bodhisattva (the best photograph I could get with my limited skills and the museum lighting). 

Can't we make a law that our political leaders have to just sit with this statue once in a while, and contemplate compassion? It's right down the street from their offices. I know, church and state and all that, but it might do some good.

Now, here's what I especially want to share with you. The Freer Gallery has some fantastic interactive exhibitions online. One in particular is called Style and Status: Imperial Costumes from Ottoman Turkey, and the opening splash, as well as some of the robes, has lots of those beautiful wish-fulfilling cintamani dots. 

On the way home I walked by the Obamas' house, on the north side, and it made me very happy to know we have a really good, not perfect but very, very good, honest man and a totally awesome woman running things inside and trying to fix this country's damage. See? It's like a little party outside all the time.

Connecting the Dots: Cintamani

A couple of summers ago, I took a painting class from Joan Anderson, a wonderful painter who also works with textiles and ethnic garment shapes. On a painting break, Joan and I were looking at a book of ancient Asian garments, and many of them had a textile pattern of three dots arranged in a triangle shape. We had a conversation about it; Joan said that it was a common pattern. I  remember telling her that it was a motif I'd love to work with, but it somehow seemed too simple. She encouraged me to try something simple, and I made some painted notes in my sketchbook:

Today I was reading old posts on Fibercopia and discovered that the pattern has a name - it's called cintamani, and it has a powerful tradition, especially in the Ottoman Empire, in Turkish garments and decoration. Cintamani means wish-fulfilling jewel, or auspicious jewel. 

Then I found this gorgeous fabric at Lost City, the textile design studio I wrote about a few posts ago (and which I believe I also found through Fibercopia, which is a treasure).  Here is Lost City's  description and photo of their Cintamani design:

Ground Red / 100% Silk

Embroidery Silk / Rayon

Color Red / Rich Yellow

Repeat V 4.6” / H 9.6”

Width 52”

Inspiration 17th C. Turkish robe 

Cintamani is one of the most distinctive motifs associated with the Ottomans, a term derived from the Sanskrit for “auspicious jewel”. Three balls are arranged in a triangular pattern and the motif is regarded among the Turkish people as a symbol to ward off evil. Embroidered on a crimson silk ground in bold yellow silk yarn.

As you know, if you've been following this blog, I've been working with shisha mirrors and fascinated by textile traditions that involve metaphysical protection and safety, so I was very excited to find another piece of this puzzle in the cintamani motif. I was both pleased with myself that I'd instinctively recognized something powerful, mysterious, and connected to the other ideas I was exploring, and also annoyed with myself that I hadn't really taken that moment seriously 18 months ago in painting class. But maybe it's all a matter of timing. Even last week, I was thinking about using the round mirrors in this pattern, not realizing that both the mirrors and the pattern, though from different countries, had a common purpose and thread. 

It also made me think of the dots that Jude has been working with in her beautiful raw, instinctive, soulful stitched pieces. 

So - this felt like a wonderful discovery to me. I knew I liked the pattern, and I knew there was something there for me to use, and now I know it has a name and a meaning, and my instincts were good. And who doesn't need a wish-fulfilling jewel right about now?

I guess this, then, is a story of synchronicity, and a reminder to trust your creative instincts and to never dismiss or discount something that feels too simple or easy. Ease is good, and there's often more to what we see on the surface than we know.

2009 Color of the Year: Mimosa

I'm working on another post, to be finished after I get some actual paying work done. But here's a quickie . . first of all, thank you to everyone who left such incredibly nice comments on my previous year-of-blogging post. I'm putting together a gift bag and will enter the names of everyone who has already commented, as well as any additional commenters on that post, in a drawing. The gift package will definitely include a lovely Indonesian batik, beads, and more.

Pantone has named its color of the year for 2009. You'll recall that last year's color was Blue Iris, a nice but not especially dramatic cobalt. For the coming year, please welcome . . .Pantone 18-0848, also known as Mimosa. It's described as an "engaging" shade of bright yellow with an orange hue. See some mimosa-colored clothing here. 

This is a very creative and strong second-and-third-chakra color with a nice multicultural feel; yellow-orange turns up a lot in other (non-American) cultures and countries. It's a joyful, warm color, and goodness knows we're going to need plenty of that. I think I approve; do you?

Pantone is the big daddy of color forecasting, but not the only source for color news, so there may be some competing 2009 colors announced soon. I'll keep my eyes open for those and report promptly. Now go pour a mimosa and meditate for a moment on its lovely hue before you drink up. 

Dressing for a Perilous World - Ancient or Modern

Last week was definitely strange. I felt pulled in too many different directions to focus on anything, and at the same time I wanted to hibernate. The economic news is scary and hard to bypass, and everyone feels vulnerable. 

Synchronistically, I discovered a few interesting connections between textiles -- clothing in particular -- and a sense of safety. Can cloth make you feel safe in a precarious, even terrifying, world? It isn't just a matter of covering up and putting more layers between you and said world. Since humans began to dress, they added elements of magic and power to their clothing to stack the deck in their favor. We've talked about mirrors, used on textiles to repel negative energy and the "evil eye," but textiles were also structured for safety and inscribed or marked with elaborate symbols to add protection.

Threadspider has posted a new page of source materials with some excellent references; among them, you'll find a link to Google Book excerpts from Asian Embroidery,edited by Jasleen Dharmija. Though you can't preview the entire book, they've made several fascinating essays available (including one by shining cloth expert Victoria K. Rivers) and beautiful photographs. The editor's introductory essay talks of the powerful magic associated with pieced and quilted clothing; ancient Persians made quilted armor, and many cultures embroidered talismans and added stones, coins or other objects imbued with meaning. According to Rivers, it isn't just the embellishments but also the placement of the cloths, in the body or in the environment, that worked magic. A lot of this textile symbology and vocabulary is probably lost to us now, but we can still appreciate the incredible detail and mastery of these pieces.

Today, modern clothing designer Rebecca Turbow launched Safe Clothes to "create beautiful and elegant handcrafted clothing that centered on the concept of safety and protection. . . contrasting soft and sturdy fabrics with clean, geometric patterns and detailed craftsmanship, Turbow marries comfort with high design to create pieces that please  not only the viewer, but the wearer as well. Through exaggerated collars and hoods, quilted padding constructed by hand and her meticulous eye for color and texture, Turbow's work uses whimsy to express Safe Clothes' mission of providing protection from the dangers and perils of everyday modern living." 

I love the concept and some of the clothes, too, though some -- an extremely short bubble dress? - might not feel all that safe. 

If I really wanted to feel like a 21st-century Wonder Woman and warrior goddess, protected and immensely powerful, I think I'd wear one of Sandra Backlund's utterly fantastic knitted creations. Winter puts me in a knitting mood, and I was searching around for interesting ideas -- but not expecting to find work that is quite so amazing.  Go to to SandraBacklund.com to see more of this knitted art and her thoughtful artist's statement. Photos by Denise Grunstein (top) and Ola Bergengren (bottom).

The less abstract connection between textiles and our economic crisis is all the interest now in making things. It's been building for several years, as we all know, but suddenly there's a new imperative and a new purposefulness to knowing how to stitch and how to sew,for practicality as well as creativity. I don't know if ascribing magical powers to what we wear will help in this economy, but I do know that I'm glad I can make beautiful and useful things. 

No Mere Clothing

The Christian Science Monitor has a wonderful review by Norman Weinstein of the two African textile exhibitions in New York, quoted below with my highlights. Go to the article to see photos.

Traditional African textiles inspire modern art
Two New York exhibits showcase cloth traditions and new interpretations.
By Norman Weinstein | Contributor to The Christian Science Monitor 

from the November 7, 2008 edition

Two extraordinary parallel exhibits at the Grey Gallery at New York University and the Metropolitan Museum illuminate what many Africans themselves view as their supreme art: textile design. The Western world's on-again, off-again love affair with traditional African arts during the past century has been quicker to value African masks and sculpture than artful textiles, perhaps because textiles are associated with "mere" clothing. These exhibits build a case for the way the most refined and imaginative textiles Africans have worn for centuries create a sense for the wearer and onlookers of perceiving fine art in dancing motion.

Both exhibits also concentrate on how traditional West African textile designs have inspired modern African artists who use materials other than woven silk or cotton to create new art that references past weaving traditions while reflecting the present. This startling juxtaposition between the past and present in thinking about textile patterns is sweepingly showcased in the Grey Art Gallery's "The Poetics of Cloth: African Textiles/Recent Art."

A hand-woven cotton wrapper from the Ewe people of Ghana is a sumptuous presentation of the polyrhythmic weaving style called "kente." If a textile could fancifully sing about itself, this cloth would sing: "I've got rhythm, who could ask for anything more?" "Kente for the Space Age" by Rikki Wemega-Kwawu creates a parallel field of color-clashing, asymmetrically skewed patterns – but does so using prepaid African phone cards linked by plastic twine.

But African textiles, ancient or contemporary, created from cotton or plastic, are more than just rhythmically busy designs in bright colors. Patterns often suggest moral stories and proverbial wisdom through evocative visual patterns. A stirring example found in the Metropolitan Museum's exhibit, "The Essential Art of African Textiles: Design Without End" is a cotton tunic created by a Hausa artist who transformed it into a warrior's uniform, assuring invulnerability by attaching magical amulets and covering its surface with sage scripture from the Koran.

While some 21st-century variations on traditional African textiles have less clearly didactic story lines, all invite lingering gazes at complexly interlocking patterns. For those unable to attend the exhibits, two valuable catalogs are worth seeking out, with the Grey Gallery's "The Poetics of Cloth" catalog being the most essential, thanks to a revealing essay by the Ghanaian weaver Kofi Anyidoho linking his weaving to music.

• "The Poetics of Cloth" ends Dec. 6, 2008; "The Essential Art of African Textiles" runs through March 29, 2009. 


Find this article at: 
http://www.csmonitor.com/2008/1107/p13s03-algn.html

I love the way Mr. Weinstein links textiles to dance and music, a great reminder that textiles aren't static -- they're made and used over time and they move in space.  And again, we see the way that textiles become a vehicle for magic and protection. Has anyone had the pleasure of seeing these shows? 

The Magical Music of Shipibo Indian Textiles

The Medicine Hunter sent me this photo of a Shipibo Indian textile, taken on his travels exploring medicinal plant culture in Peru. Shipibo Indians have an extraordinary textile tradition that reflects their spiritual cosmology and the visions they invoke through the use of ayahuasca, a powerful psychotropic plant that's said to offer profound healing and creativity. (click to enlarge photo)

Chris writes, "The recurrent patterns in those most
unusual works are the ayahuasca geometry which most every ayahuascero sees directly. I have , of course, and then take a good look at the blouses, skirts, pants, shirts and robes worn by the Shipibo (who are often called the ayahuasca people), and see the replication of the visionary experience in textile form."

Along with this link to the most vivid powers of the imagination, these textile patterns also correspond to music. The Shipibo can literally sing these patterns to each other, and both songs and images have complex and powerful meanings that are experienced as balancing and transformational energies. 

I'm just touching the surface of this fascinating textile tradition that graphically illustrates how cloth can be a vehicle for spirit, meaning and communication. For more, read "Communion with the Infinite," by Howard G. Charing, another ethnobotanist who works with shamans, ayahuasca and the Shipibo people. Over at FiberFocus, Rayela has also written about Shipibo textiles. 

Chris has generously promised to send more photos, and is actively working to promote and preserve the Shipibo culture and traditions, so stay tuned. I love the sun and shadow on this photo, and the tiny turquoise and fuschia diamonds in the pattern; it's hypnotic. I haven't had the ayahuasca experience, but even the tiny glimpse of it in their textiles and artwork is magical. 

 

Sparkle Plenty

Okay . . . armed with the patience of a new morning, I'm going to rewrite the post that "the new Typepad" destroyed yesterday. Don't you love it when something in your life is working just fine -- and you don't mind spending the money it requires -- and then, through no fault of your own, it completely goes to hell but still costs you money? Kind of like our banking system. And you get condescending little notes from the people taking your money. So, can anyone recommend a better blog program, and guidance on how difficult it is to switch? I don't want to lose the content here, but I'm frustrated beyond words and reluctant to launch my new Making Good blog on this platform.  I use a Macintosh with system 10.3.9, apparently too ancient for the cutting-edge "new" Typepad. Way to make your best customers obsolete, Typepad. 

Back at the ranch, I got my brochure for next year's Surface Design Association conference in Kansas City. I've been a member of SDA for many years and written for both the Journal and the newsletter, but I've never attended the conference because it was always a busy time of year in my former  organic foods world. This one looks too good to miss, though. My friend Harmony is speaking on organic fabric, and there are too many compelling workshops and speakers to count. 

I'm very interested to hear Victoria Z. Rivers' talk, called "Textilian: A Career in Textile Explorations," as it sounds like she verily defines the "global textile explorer" way of life, my dream job. Dr. Rivers teaches at the University of California at Davis, where on my more optimistic days I think about applying for graduate school in textiles/cultural studies (again -- I was accepted there once and foolishly didn't go). 

Dr. Rivers is the author of The Shining Cloth, a gorgeous book about textiles embellished with metallic thread, beads, mirrors and other glittery forms in every culture through the ages. And you must go visit the beautiful Shining Cloth Gallery Web site that she's created, where you can view a whole spectrum of textiles like this:

For millennia, cultures have used shining objects in textiles for protection against the evil eye, to denote status and rank, and just for beauty. Here's what Dr. Rivers says in her book synopsis:

"The most basic question the book addresses is why humans devote so much of their time and resources into the making or acquiring of shining surfaced textiles, which are hardly necessary like food and shelter, for survival. Glimmering fabrics, dress, and adornment are prominent in the material culture of people around the world and serve societies on many levels. The first important use of shining surfaces, which appears very early in the history of visual culture, reflects ancient solar worship and the gods of the upper world. Over time, substances like gold and mirrors transitioned from symbolizing the deified sun and purifying firelight to banishing evil and protecting fertility. Through deified solar gods, the power of the golden sun was transferred to gold-wearing god-kings and eventually became synonymous with wealth. 

The evil eye, the malevolent gaze from an envious person, is believed to ruin fertility and bring about misfortune, but glimmering materials distract the dangerous gaze from the wearer, so that the person is 
symbolically shielded. Light reflecting materials play prominent roles in cultural exchange, economic development, and geographical exploration through trade. Shimmering surfaces convey cultural identity and social distinctions such as hierarchy, social accomplishments, and leadership. Some shiny substances are often used to express the male/female metaphor through the contrast of paired opposites like hard shell and bead, or male materials with soft textile, or female substances. Shining embellished textiles and dress are frequently used to symbolize or communicate with the spirit world, encapsulate soul force, and to reflect blessings of one's ancestors. Equally importantly, the artifacts represented in The Shining Cloth reflect the human spirit, sense of beauty, high levels of artistry and skill obtained, and peoples' abilities to constantly innovate and delight with natural substances.

Because they're so ubiquitous, we often take the beauty and power of our best textiles for granted, but these two paragraphs are such an excellent reminder of their meaning. Now Typepad is acting crazy again, so I'm going to post this before it disappears again. 

Om on the Range

oops  - I wrote this last Friday but forgot to take it out of draft mode. Here it is . .

Yes, I'm still basking in the afterglow of last night's phenomenal Obama speech. Today feels like it should be a holiday, but of course the real holiday will be November 5, when we send Bush back to Crawford. By the way, Obama supports this legislation that allows artists to take a tax deduction for the full market value of works they donate to educational institutions and nonprofit organization. 

I've finished the beaded center medallion for the piece for my yoga space -- here it is with some of the fabric I have for the backing, which will be pieced, stitched and shisha-ed:

I wanted those pure, bright colors of India and fortunately have some on hand. The magenta silk was sent to me a few years ago from Malaysia, from the man who introduced me to the power of yoga and gave me the means to do it as a daily, lifelong practice. 

Everybody's talking about The Textile Blog, and for good reason. This blog is a terrific, serious exploration of textile design and history. This is NOT your interchangeable design-craft blog with the latest cute fabric with polka dots or birds and a commentary that goes something like, "Oooooh!! I Love this! Don't you Love Love Love this?!!!!" without any explanation of what it is that they Love! about it. There's nothing wrong with those blogs, but there's no there there -- no opportunity to train the eye to recognize good design, or understand the context of the design or the textile. If you just want to look at cute patterns by the latest Amy Butler wannabe -- and sure, sometimes we all do -- this is not the site you want to bookmark, but if you want to advance your textile vocabulary and challenge your eye for beauty and pattern, then it definitely is. 

I've happily joined Rayela's FiberFocus Ning site, though I have to admit I'm not great with keeping up with the Ning community activity. Despite that, Rayela's Fiber Focus blog is a fantastic resource; we share a lot of the same instincts about textiles, culture and sustainability, and I'd love to write for her blog sometime. 

For some inspirational fine artisan clothing and accessories, visit Asiatica.  These are understated, elegant, gorgeous pieces, many made with vintage Japanese silks. 

Finally, I got a lovely e-mail from Jane Dunnewold, whom you may know as the author of Complex Cloth and other books. If you haven't visited her Web site for ArtCloth Studios, go see. It's full of great writing and fascinating ideas, tutorials, resources . . . Jane is a true Slow Cloth artist with a deep reverence for both textile traditions and modern aesthetics; her success is much deserved, and I'm very glad that she visited this blog and honored that she found interesting ideas here. I've got her Finding Your Own Visual Language on my wish list. 

I know there is a lot in this post (I've been collecting links all week) -- thanks for reading all the way through. Have a great weekend and look to the future.

Be About Beauty

This rich, stunning work, titled Be About Beauty,  is by nationally known fiber artist Adriene Cruz. She kindly gave me permission to reproduce it here; visit her Web site to see more of her work. The poem is by Kalamu Ya Salaam, founder of NOMMO Literary Society, a New Orleans-based creative writing workshop. The copyright date of the textile work is 2001.

I discovered Adriene Cruz through Rayela's Fiber Focus, a wonderful blog by Rachel Biel Taibi -- Rachel lives in Paducah, Kentucky, but is a sister global textile explorer. She's especially interested, as I am, in the cultural context of textiles, and she also writes about aspects of sustainability; she has an interesting post on fair trade, a concept that a lot of people relate to in terms of coffee and chocolate, but it also has great relevance in crafts and textile production.

Back to Adriene Cruz: her work is about spirit, meditation, power, beauty and heritage. Enjoy it, and let whatever you do be about beauty today.