Handwork and The Craft

Finding My Way on the Loom by Following My Instincts

 I ordered a kit for making three dishtowels as I thought it would help me learn the basics of weaving fine cotton thread and finish with something useful. The were three different blues and a white cone, and instructions, which after a frustrating time of warping (it's been a while) and then finally getting it set up, I wove about two inches and ...well, hated it. The instructions were thin and I had too many mistakes, and even when corrected, the pattern as written seemed to not deliver the cloth I had hoped to make. So after wrestling with it for five days, I decided to let it sit and spend some time thinking about whether to trash the whole thing, or come up with a better solution. 

A week later, I cut the warp off at the reed...and made the decision to re-sley the entire warp with a entirely new configuration, one I knew and could trust to turn out well. I used the Finnish Birds Eye patterns from my ancient copy of A Handweaver's Pattern Book, by Marguerite Porter Davidson, purchased some forty years when I first started weaving. A simple twill pattern formed the base. Pulling all the warp threads out of the heddles and then re-dressing the loom from the back to the front provided my first lesson in something I had not known how to do. I rather liked it, except for the whole hump-backed leaning over the reed to grab the warp threads.

I also made a decision that this piece would be a learning piece -- a fun piece, a sampler of experiments, different patterns, stripes of contrasting colors -- and the right to be free enough not to stress the small mistakes. It would also give enough weaving of a single piece to figure out how to manage tension, cleaner selvedges, and a consistent pick per inch of the woven cloth. And yes, I definitely got a whole lot better in all three of those areas-- though frankly, the beginnings were pretty rough, messy edges, uneven tension, and just...less sure of itself. Plowing through it smoothed out the issues and it was reassuring to discover that there was beauty and pleasure in seeing the cloth appear. 

 First rows in twill...

Getting more ambitious and playing with a longer lozenge shape -- it's a lovely pattern, with its interlocking smaller pattern outlining the long center. 

And this section, which  I liked the best -- a gradient of stripes, each with its own small pattern. I would easily do another entire piece just in these sort of smooth flowing stripes. It teaches me so much how color operates in the fabric and how the patterns within the stripes can disrupt or enhance the design. 

And here is the piece, finished enough that I chose to cut it from the warp. (I have some left over on the loom and will probably try some different with it -- I don't want to waste either the cotton thread or the opportunity to keep on playing with it in new ways.) I will be turning in the selvages because it is the only way I can keep the width a bit more consistent (and because as I mentioned, the beginning was pretty ragged.) I'll hemstitch the ends, then wash, block, and yeah, use it on my kitchen table. 

Samplers: Counted Thread Cross Stitches and Reticella.

Here are two more pieces I did as samplers at about 20 -- one in cross stitch, counting every thread "five over-five up" to keep it all even. I took the patterns from and old DMC book that had them graphed -- but good lord, I remember acquiring a new found respect for the little girls of the 19th century who did long pieces, full alphabets and entire gardens in disciplined counted cross stitch. (I can see a mistake with the strawberries -- a few threads off and it changes everything!). I do love this kind of work -- exactly the opposite of crewel work with its scrolls and free hand nature. But there is something equally calming about the smooth rhythm of a cross stitch sampler.

I fell in love with cut work and especially reticella also known as "punto in aria" (needle in the air) where one cut threads and then reweaves spider web patterns in the empty space. This is pretty primitive compared to really fine work done on entire borders of cut work and needle weaving on old table cloths. My all time favorite is the "hard core" needle in the air where there is no fabric ground -- just threads tacked down like the outer rim of a spider web and slowly filled in with shapes and patterns all formed from using the needle like a shuttle. You can see an excellent example of that from my great aunt Anna here in an old post. Also do have a look at the contemporary work of Dorie Millerson whose work is fabulous!