Red Thread Studio

Staying Connected

Looking for new posts? I don't foresee new posts on this blog right now, other than a possible wrap-up/farewell thoughts post, but the archives will remain up. For current posts and information, please visit my professional communications/writing/editing site and my evolving elainelipsonart.com for painting and textiles. I invite you to like my Facebook Slow Cloth page as well.  If you've enjoyed this blog, let me know what you've found most interesting in the comments or by email. Thank you all, enormously.

 

Slow Cloth Presentation - TSA 2012

Hi! I know, I haven't blogged in... well, nine months. How's 2012 treating you? My year has been pretty strange. After three years, I left my job in June (and it was pretty all-consuming up until then) and have been doing some freelance and consulting work and trying to determine the next mission, adventure, experience, direction, and how and where to make a living. It was a summer of heat and fires and drought here, and autumn is a lovely relief (albeit a temporary one, if the climate change scientists are correct). 

I did just have a beautiful nine days in Washington, DC, where I gave a presentation on Slow Cloth at the Textile Society symposium. I've put the talk and slides into PDF form and you are welcome to download it and share it. The file is about 4.5 MB. 

Download SlowClothTalkSept2012

Meanwhile, obviously, I have not successfully rebooted this blog on WordPress yet. I still hope to do that but right now I'm evaluating everything and will need to let some things go or transform them into what works now.

Enjoy the PDF. As you'll see, over the past few years many wonderful people have given me permission to use their images as examples of the spirit of Slow Cloth, and I'm very grateful. I welcome and appreciate your feedback.

 

a detail of one of my vision boards - the quote and pictures came from pages in O magazine, I believe.

Herzog's Cave of Forgotten Dreams

Absolutely everyone who is interested in art, culture, and the human condition should see Cave of Forgotten Dreams. It's extraordinary. And then go and read "First Impressions," the 2008 Judith Thurman article in the New Yorker that influenced Werner Herzog to make the film. You can rent Cave of Forgotten Dreams on iTunes and, I assume, on other film rental sites, though if you can see it in 3D in a theater, it's probably well worth the effort. I watched it on my 13-inch computer screen and it was powerful and beautiful and completely intriguing--right down to the Werner Herzog signature strangeness in the postscript.

If you haven't heard of it, the film documents the images in Chauvet Cave in France, made perhaps 30,000 years ago; they are magical and graceful and seem effortless. There's been a lot of talk among archaelogists, cultural anthropologists, and art historians about what this means. Did the skill to make artistic images evolve, or, as these images suggest, simply appear? Thurman draws fascinating connections between images in contemporary shamanic ritual and the images in the cave, especially when humans are in motion before them. You simply can't help but be entranced by the mystical possibilities and the human connection to these most ancient of ancestors.

 

 

An image from the walls of Chauvet Cave.

Edited to add: Today, as it happens, is Werner Herzog's birthday, so celebrate his brilliance by watching this film. You can also listen to him read Go the Fuck to Sleep, because it's awesome.

Quick Update: ISEND and More

Dear blog friends, I miss you--I'm sorry to have been so quiet, and that the new blog isn't up yet. It's been a long winter; I spent the last six weeks just going to work every day and then watching every episode of The Wire (yes, it's as amazing as its reputation) and waiting, forever, for more light, more warmth, and more optimism.

The exciting news is that I've been awarded some funding from the Textile Society to attend the International Symposium and Exhibition on Natural Dyes (ISEND) in France at the end of April. Who else is planning to go? Let me know! I've never been to France, and it's a place I really want to go, so I'm thrilled. The conference is in the charming seaside town of La Rochelle, from whence my French-Canadian ancestors probably came, and I hope I'll get a day or two in Paris. The symposium speakers on natural dyes are from all over the world, and it promises to be a great adventure.

I've also dipped my toe in the Twitter waters, as @artcraftculture, mostly with posts about books and design and crafts that are related to my day job, but as usual I have other thoughts to share too...if you're there, connect with me. I don't know if it'll stick for me; it feels like a bit of an echo chamber so far.

Meanwhile, I've got books to be read (a few of them above), stitching to be stitched, paintings to paint, words to write, and on it goes. I'll try to make that long-promised blog switchover and get back on a regular blogging schedule. Until then...I hope you are all hanging in there through this long winter (and long fiery summer for my friends in the southern hemisphere) and staying well in this crazy world.

Textile Society Symposium Recap

edited to add: I think I've fixed all the links. Let me know if any are still not working. Typepad seems to have made some changes - one more reason that I'm moving the blog to Wordpress soon. Sorry about that!

I really enjoyed the Textile Society symposium at the University of Nebraska in Lincoln last week. First, some highlights:

• An excellent keynote by Sheila Kennedy, an MIT professor in the school of architecture and "a pioneer in integrating technology and design." This talk was a reminder that textiles are both art and science, and that we can use them to improve people's lives -- not just by preserving traditional craft but also by innovating and designing new textile technologies, by thinking big, by looking toward "new cloth" and the future. I especially liked Kennedy's description of the Portable Light project. And the moment where she talked about indigenous peoples wanting to create their own handwoven sacred carriers for these 21st-century light sources brought it all together. The message that we need to be skilled both in digital technologies and in making things by hand was timely.
• Another good keynote on natural dyes by Dominique Cardon, who is organizing next year's International Symposium and Exhibition on Natural Dyes, to be held in France. This talk, too, raised questions exploring the science of natural dyeing on a large scale, as well as its history and its appeal and challenges for the small-scale dyer. The event next year sounds pretty great.
• A fantastic session on "Slow Art and Textile Practice" by Rowland Ricketts, artist, teacher, and indigo farmer, Kyoung Ae Cho, who makes beautiful stitched pieces, and Janice Lessman-Moss, a weaver. Each artist brought a story and a sensibility to the presentation that gave a beautiful context to their work. I've written about Rowland Ricketts before but the other artists were new to me. And I got to meet and talk with Rowland, and he has a lot to say about indigo and about the textile art community. It was a great pleasure to talk with him and hear him speak. A few years ago I gave a lot of thought to putting together an exhibition on art and agriculture, integrating my experiences in the organic foods world and in art and textiles. Talking with him re-ignited that idea for me.
• Janice Arnold gave a very beautiful presentation on the nomadic life and her work in felt, some of which was included in the Cooper Union exhibition last year. She was lovely, and seemed to have put a lot of thought into her presentation. The work and the story of her process is astounding and she truly seems to be called to express the idea of being a nomad in modern times.
• There was a good presentation on Shipibo Indian textiles, which I've posted about a few times, and fascinating talks on other cultural and anthropological aspects of textiles. I know not everybody goes for this stuff, but I love it.

In general, I loved the high level of scholarship, cultural context, and international scope of this symposium. If these things appeal to you, I recommend joining The Textile Society and attending the next symposium, scheduled for Washington, D.C., in 2012. By relocating the symposium each time, different locales get to shine, and Lincoln did very well. My Colorado College classmate Wendy Weiss had a lot to do with organizing this symposium (she teaches at the University of Nebraska) and she did an excellent job. There were many exhibitions, from local galleries to the beautiful Sheldon Museum of Art and the International Quilt Study Center; good restaurants nearby; beautiful autumn weather and the friendliness of the Midwest. There was a small but excellent marketplace; I bought Laura Foster Nicholson's ribbons and had the pleasure of talking with her, and I also saw my friends from Goodweave there. I had a very interesting conversation with Leesa Hubbell, the digital news editor for the Surface Design Association. And a big bonus for me: while in Lincoln, I got to see my dear brother, my lovely sister-in-law, and my beloved niece and nephews.

There was some minor room for improvement at the conference, generally speakers who didn't seem well prepared or comfortable presenting to a group, and too many concurrent sessions, forcing difficult choices. Because there are such strong relationships between food and fiber, I'd love to see the presence of good local and organic food at events like this (I know this is a cost issue and a hotel contract issue, but it can be done). But all in all it was a terrific event, and for me there was more substance than at some other textile conferences and trade shows that I've been to.

I left there with a lot to think about for my work as well as my personal direction with textiles and the future of Slow Cloth as an entity and as an idea. One thing that always comes up for me is the lack of diversity -- in age and gender, in particular -- in the textile community. Young people are coming in, but too often as a marketing target, as consumers of craft products. And men are mostly there if they come from other countries, by and large, or in a celebrity role to audiences of women, so it often seems a little out of balance.

The question is, I suppose, do we want it to be different? I think we do, because diversity is a core concept of sustainability. And because any group with 99% one gender or age group all the time tends to magnify  any flaws or weaknesses in communication style and interaction of that gender or age group. Anyway, that's a big topic for another time. I think the energy of the textile community would change if it were more diverse in any number of ways, but maybe I'm just projecting my own discomfort with groups of all kinds.

The image above is Torn Notebook, a Claes Oldenburg sculpture in the sculpture garden at the Sheldon Museum of Art in Lincoln.

Shipibo Woman Stitching

The Medicine Hunter sent this new photograph of a Peruvian woman of the Shipibo Indian tribe weaving one of the magical patterns that they're known for. I've written about them before, here and here. This photograph is so lovely -- it really captures that universal sensation of peacefully stitching, concentrating while also dreaming of who knows what. The patterns of Shipibo embroidery are like a musical score, corresponding to the songs that the shamans sing in the ayahuasca ceremonies, which are said to be extraordinarily healing.

photo by Chris Kilham; used with permission.

Peru seems to be in the air these days. I've also been following the Mayu Hand-Knit Alpaca blog; Kate is a Chicago girl who went to the same high school that I did, as it turns out, and she's been working to help improve awareness of fair trade purchasing in Chicago. This is one of Mayu's handmade alpaca scarves:

Since I haven't been to Peru, I can only share these images from those who have. It seems that everyone who goes there falls in love with the country and the people--and the textiles.

Full Snow Moon: Embracing the Iconoclast Within

This is the Snow Moon, though it's late in the winter and almost spring. On the edge of the eastern slope of the Colorado Rocky Mountains, we have the most snow in March and April -- though this year we've been besieged since my birthday in October -- but at least the days are getting longer and the light is stronger.

 

Gatten holding the moon disc
Kakemono
Japan, 16th c.
Embroidered damask, silk, gold and silver filé

Collection of the Musees des Tissus et des Arts decoratifs de Lyon

I couldn't summon even a whimper for this blog all month. I keep asking myself - is it done? But I think it's just in transition. Last year at one point I plotted out a new blog called Art Craft Culture, and maybe it's time to birth it soon, and start blogging again with a fresh start (The Red Thread idea has been appropriated by so many people in so many ways, and that's all to the good, but for me it no longer feels as original as it once did.) But many of you are connecting with me on the Slow Cloth group, and that's been a surprise and a delight. We imagined we'd have maybe 50 people interested, and we have almost 1,000.

My wonderful and perceptive boss referred to me as an iconoclast last week. This is a positive variation on what some other people have called me -- troublemaker, for example. The iconoclastic shoe fits, so I wear it with varying degrees of comfort. It means to be outside the mainstream, questioning the status quo, subverting the dominant paradigm. The formal definition is to overthrow or destroy religious symbols, but I don't really relate to that level of aggression; I prefer to think of it as being ahead of the curve - a little bit visionary, even - and I'm nothing if not a dreamer.

The only problem is that iconoclasts, especially female iconoclasts, often have a hard time making a living; we're square pegs, and the powers that be often don't know quite what to do with us. At some point you have to give up the struggle to fit in, because the only way to do that is to limit yourself. And you have to give up the idea of being anyone other than who you are. Then you can get to work on being the best version of who you are. 

So I dedicate this new moon to being a peaceful iconoclast and owning it with pride. I am working on a stitching project that's been a little stagnant, but with the longer days it's seeing signs of life. Here's the current state of the peace mandala:

Oh, and the beautiful 16th-century Japanese silk above is just one item from a beautiful collection at the Musee des Tissues et des Arts decoratifs de Lyon; they have many more of their exquisite pieces online. Here's a 4th-century Egyptian textile that looks very contemporary; inspiration is where you find it, even in the distant past.

Decorated leaf
Egypt, 4th-5thcentury AD.
Linen cloth, linen and wool tapestry
0.29 x 0.24

Full Cold Moon

Turn that TV off now baby

I'm so low I don't even sing

Tell me something about my country

Tell me one good thing

King and Malcolm, lamb and lion

Setting Alabama free

Thirty thousand angels flying

From Montgomery

Put that paper down now, baby

I'm so low I don't even sing

Tell me something about my country

Tell me one good thing           

                - one good thing, by anais mitchell

The full moon is beautiful in the sky, bringing a bitter cold front with it. It seems like winter has already been too long, and I'm dreaming of beaches. It's hard to believe that December is here, and the next full moon -- a Blue Moon and the Wolf Moon -- will be at year's end. I don't really know what to think about this year. It's been full of disappointments for me, yet I'm not sure the whole story has unfolded yet. It's been full of progress, too, though it feels too slow. And it's been full of hope; on some days that feels foolish, and on other days, powerful.

I drove to work today behind a van with this bumper sticker: I'll keep my freedom & money & guns, and you can keep "the Change." That's their bad punctuation, not mine. I've been behind this vehicle before; we seem to be on the same schedule. It's pretty much a guarantee, if I see it, that it's going to be a bad day. And now I've just listened to the president that this woman hates announce escalation of a murky war, and I wonder if this pigheaded moron in the van is happy now. Of course not.

It doesn't seem as if humans will ever transcend hatred, war, and violence. But fortunately, we'll also never stop creating, envisioning, loving, and happily, stitching.

A few links I've had bookmarked:

• The wonderful Tai Gallery in Santa Fe has revamped their Web site and it's full of beautiful textiles and bamboo baskets, with many of their gallery publications viewable online. There are dozens of amazing ancient and modern textiles, and the photos can be sent as e-postcards to your friends. Here's one:
  Mantle, Chimu Culture
  Peru, North Coast?
  Late Intermediate Period, 1000 - 1476
  Design: Bold blocks of pelicans and tuna fish motifs in a bright palette of red, yellow, blue, white and brown.
  Technique: Slit tapestry, warp and weft camelid fibers

And another:

Heirloom textile

Made in Gujarat, India
Collected in Sulawesi, 17th century
Technique: Resist and mordant dyed handspun cotton

• I think Jude scooped me on this one, but the new community Hand Embroidery Network has launched Needle, a new online magazine for traditional and contemporary hand-stitched embroidery. It's beautiful; go see.
• Britex Fabrics, the legendary brick-and-mortar store in Union Square in San Francisco, finally has a blog and online shopping for some of its ribbons, trims, and buttons. I lived near the intersection of Haight and Ashbury Street back in 1986 with Dave the Drummer, and worked in downtown San Francisco, not far from Britex. I used to walk there on my lunch hour. I'd rarely buy anything because the choice was so magnificently vast that I couldn't ever pick just one thing. On the weekends I'd paint silk fabrics for a designer named Connie Romweber and shop closer to home at the much funkier Mendel's on Haight Street and Satin Moon. What a luxury it was to have so many great fabric stores.

Here, There and Everywhere

A few quick links -- sorry to send you all over the Web, but all of these require linking back rather than posting images.

• Since we've been considering Indonesian batik, head over to the Textile Museum's photostream on Flickr. There's a wonderful collection of photographs from their gala celebrating the exhibition of Barack Obama's mother's textiles from that country. The gala featured gorgeous contemporary fashions made with traditional batik and ikat fabrics. 
• Fans of now-defunct Domino magazine will be happy to know that some of its most creative staff have launched Lonny, an online home design magazine. I don't love the electronic format on a laptop screen, but it's better than no magazine at all, and it's free to viewers.
• Dijanne, the intrepid textile itinerant, has posted photos of her newest Traveler's Blanket, in blue. I love the look, intention and spirit of these textiles. This spectacular piece is for sale, so I hope an enthusiastic collector finds it. The work of Dijanne, like that of Jude, truly embodies the idea of soul cloth or authentic cloth. 
• StyleCourt has posted a wonderful inspiration board that is a mosaic of artist's palettes. I'd love to have this as a big  -- giant -- print. 
• If you're interested in Spoonflower or other online digital textile printing services, but need someone to walk you through the use of Illustrator or Photoshop to do this, here's a tutorial that looks very helpful.

Safeguarding the Intangible Heritage of Textile Arts and Crafts

For me, an essential element of the Slow Cloth philosophy is the protection of indigenous textile techniques. The United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) recently closed a session of its Committee for Safeguarding the Intangible Heritage by recognizing some magnificent textile arts and crafts. The designated intangible heritages include the following (from the UNESCO press release):

• China - The craftsmanship of Nanjing Yunjin brocade. In the Chinese tradition of weaving Nanjing Yunjin brocade, two craftspeople operate the upper and lower parts of a large, complicated loom to produce textiles incorporating fine materials such as silk, gold and peacock feather yarn.
• China - Sericulture and silk craftsmanship of China. Sericulture and silk craftsmanship of China, based in Zhejiang and Jiangsu Provinces near Shanghai and Chengdu in Sichuan Province, have an ancient history. Traditionally an important role for women in the economy of rural regions, silk-making encompasses planting mulberry, raising silkworms, unreeling silk, making thread, and designing and weaving fabric.
• China - The traditional handicrafts of making Xuan paper. The unique water quality and mild climate of Jing County in Anhui Province in eastern China are two of the key ingredients in the craft of making Xuan paper that thrives there.
• Croatia - Lacemaking in Croatia. At least three distinct traditions of Lacemaking in Croatia persist today, centred on the towns of Pag on the Adriatic, Lepoglava in northern Croatia and Hvar on the Dalmatian island of the same name.
• Cyprus - Lefkara laces or Lefkaritika. The tradition of lacemaking in the village of Lefkara in southeastern Cyprus dates back to at least the fourteenth century. Influenced by indigenous craft, the embroidery of Venetian courtiers who ruled the country beginning in 1489, and ancient Greek and Byzantine geometric patterns, Lefkara lace is made by hand in designs combining four basic elements: the hemstitch, cut work, satin stitch fillings and needlepoint edgings.
• France - Aubusson tapestry.  A centuries-old tradition, the craft of Aubusson tapestry consists of weaving an image using processes practised in Aubusson and a number of other localities in the Creuse region of France.
• Indonesia - Indonesian Batik. The techniques, symbolism and culture surrounding hand-dyed cotton and silk garments known as Indonesian Batik permeate the lives of Indonesians from beginning to end: infants are carried in batik slings decorated with symbols designed to bring the child luck, and the dead are shrouded in funerary batik.
• Japan - Ojiya-chijimi, Echigo-jofu: techniques of making ramie fabric in Uonuma region, Niigata Prefecture. The high-quality, lightweight patterned textiles made from the ramie plant are ideal for the hot and humid Japanese summer.
• Japan - Sekishu-Banshi: papermaking in the Iwami region of Shimane Prefecture. The unique techniques of Sekishu-Banshi papermaking create the strongest paper produced in Japan. Sekishu-Banshi has long been made in the Iwami region of Shimane Prefecture in western Japan, originally as a side business for local farmers.

The committee also identified the Li textile techniques of China as an intangible heritage in need of urgent preservation:

The traditional Li textile techniques of spinning, dyeing, weaving and embroidering are employed by women of the Li ethnic group of Hainan Province, China, to make cotton, hemp and other fibres into clothing and other daily necessities. The techniques involved, including warp ikat, double-face embroidery, and single-face jacquard weaving, are passed down from mothers to daughters from early childhood through verbal instruction and personal demonstration. Li women design the textile patterns using only their imagination and knowledge of traditional styles. In the absence of a written language, these patterns record the history and legends of Li culture as well as aspects of worship, taboos, beliefs, traditions and folkways. The patterns also distinguish the five major spoken dialects of Hainan Island. The textiles form an indispensable part of important social and cultural occasions such as religious rituals and festivals, and in particular weddings, for which Li women design their own dresses. As carriers of Li culture, traditional Li textile techniques are an indispensable part of the cultural heritage of the Li ethnic group. However, in recent decades the numbers of women with the weaving and embroidery skills at their command has severely declined to the extent that traditional Li textile techniques are exposed to the risk of extinction and are in urgent need of protection.

The designation gives these countries a responsibility to document, preserve and protect the intangible heritage. Indonesia, for example, says it will begin to amass a database of batik patterns and techniques. According to The Jakarta Post, ". . . the validation meant Indonesia now had to work to safeguard and manage batik, the wax-resistant dyeing technique used on textiles." Indonesia celebrated by naming October 2 as a national day of batik.

This is good news for textile artists, scholars, and global explorers (like me!). Safeguarding the intangible heritage is a formal and poetic way of saying that there is value in these techniques; to lose them is to lose something of our collective soul.

Apparently Indonesia was in a bit of a tug-of-war with Malaysia over which country would earn the award for batik; the New York Times story is here. "In June, things had reached the point where Malaysia’s defense minister felt it necessary to declare that, contrary to appearances, the two countries were not on the brink of war."

Yikes. Between the Olympics and batik . . . can't we all just get along? World peace, people.