embroidery and textiles

I call it Lentil Stitch…

lentils

Working on my embroidery last weekend, I wanted to fill a shape with little nubbins of stitch, but didn’t want to use french knots—a bit too small.

I started working the circles in satin stitch, but found that not only were they disappointingly flat (I could have padded, I know), but the horizontal tension squeezed the circle, making it a bit oval or egg shaped. Not a big deal, of course, but at some point I started to play with my stitching, to see if I could come up with something better.

WIP "Misses Ellen & Margaret Would Not Approve"

I thought of something I’d used a few months back: Rhodes stitch. This square-shaped filling stitch has a raised center, a little like a faceted stud, and is rarely used in crewel embroidery because it is described as a needlepoint and counted-thread stitch…for working on canvas or similar meshy fabrics. Don’t see why one can’t freehand a canvaswork stitch onto finer fabric—they’re essentially the same thing, after all, so I went crazy and used Rhodes stitch along with satin stitch to fill this part of the same embroidery, pictured above.

I reasoned that I could use the same technique to work circular studs, so I started doing that on my embroidery. And holy crap, I love the results! Because the stitches rotate around the shape, the tension pulls the circumference in evenly, keeping the circle shape very nicely. But what I love most of all about this adapted rhodes stitch is the way it forms a raised center in the circle, making a really pronounced little nubbin, very much like a split pea or lentil.

So I’ve decided to call my little “discovery” Lentil Stitch…at least until somebody *gently, gently! I’m attached to it, you know…* points out to me that this is a common and widespread stitch, and that it’s name is ________. If you know this stitch, please tell me what it’s called and where you’ve seen it.

Otherwise, “Please, please Mom, can I keep Lentil?” ;)

UPDATE: You knew this was coming, didn’t you? Looking back I realize how silly it would be for such a simple and obvious stitch not to exist. Hahaha, a right and silly goose, I am. Julie THompson, over on Stitchin’ Fingers, has very gently and…almost motherly…informed me that this is called the Circular Rhodes Stitch (duh, someone didn’t do a proper search of the internet before she claimed discovery!) and it is worked on plain fabric, not canvas.

diagram for circular Rhodes Stitch

Back to the drawing board! (I mean the embroidery hoop.)

lentil stitchI call it Lentil Stitch...

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embroidery and textiles

Embroidery : : keep it clean!

so far...

White fabric. It’s lovely to embroider on, but god how hard is it to keep clean, all the while that you’re working on it?

I noticed that this embroidered WIP of mine—a freehanded design based on crewel embroidery motifs—was getting pretty dirty. I haven’t really touched it since I went on holidays in March, and it has been sitting here, in the dust and everything, all that time. It wasn’t pristine to begin with…the fabric is from second-hand cotton bedsheets that some Darwin hotel threw away. But it had definitely gotten worse…especially along the two edges that were wrapped around the wooden rollers of the embroidery frame…which I found myself gripping with both hands, constantly, to tighten the darn roll. The dirt wasn’t so noticeable while the piece was stretched, but when I took it off the frame I could see the crisp contrast of white cotton against grime, right along the edge where I had folded and hemmed the fabric before stretching it. Eeeeek!

That’s the thing about frames and hoops…those hard edges that we tend to rest our hands or arms against while we work, or tend to pick the embroidery up by, push the fabric against surfaces and are fantastic at picking up the sweat, oils and dirt from our skin. Who hasn’t released an embroidery from a hoop to find, at some point or another—and even after ironing—a clear dark circle around the work?

And the bigger or more time-consuming the piece, the longer it stays in the hoop, and the dirtier it can get! This mother I’m working on will take me another week (c’mon, be realistic, TWO weeks!)to finish, and I am so worried that by the time it’s done it will look like poor people’s underpants. So much work, spoiled by literal elbow grease!

I could dimly remember reading about ways to keep an embroidery clean whilst working on it, from one of my old-fashioned embroidery manuals (okay, I’m being disingenuous again…I only possess one old fashioned embroidery book…Mary Gostelow’s Embroidery, 1978—bought for me by my mum in 1984). I finally found the passage again today…turned out to be under the chapter Whitework (really, it should be in the Basics part of the book…every embroiderer needs to know this stuff, not just whiteworkers!)

Here’s the enlightening passage (comments in brackets will be, er, mine):

Any whitework embroidery requires absolute cleanliness. perspiration from the embroiderer’s hands can stain threads, especially on a hot day…[What? In Carrickmacross and Mountmellick? On a hot day weren't all the women digging potatoes while the men cooled off at the pub? :) ]

Hands can be kept dry with powdered French chalk. Chalk is placed in the center of a square of muslin, the corners of which are then tied tightly together to form a ball which can be used to freshen hands as required.

As in metal thread work, another centuries-old tip is to cover areas of finished embroidery, using acid-free tissue paper temporarily tacked over the stitching.

Okay? So here’s what I’ve come up with, thanks to these instructions of Gostelow’s.

If your embroidery is going to be small (confined to the space within your hoop) and you just want to keep the ring-edge clean, you can do this:

protecting embroidery2

Lay the fabric over the inner hoop. Lay a piece of clean tissue or other fine paper (I have used sandwich paper, you could use baking parchment or gift tissue I guess) over the fabric. Slide the outer hoop over both. I seem to recall reading, probably still in Gostelow’s book, that you should not pull the fabric to stretch it in the hoop. You should adjust the hoop’s screw so that it is just possible to push it down over the embroidery, and this should make the fabric taut enough.

protecting embroidery3
Naturally, I like to pull and tug and adjust my fabric afterwards, tightening the screw as I stretch. :) I only pulled the fabric, not the paper. If you do this, you’ll get wrinkles in the paper. Doesn’t really matter.

protecting embroidery4
Flip your hoop upside down, though, to make sure your fabric is nice and flat. That’s what matters, innit?protecting embroidery5

I used a seam ripper to start with, carefully puncturing the paper and cutting a hole big enough to get my little scissors in. You can use the seam ripper with the ball towards the fabric and the sharp point above the paper, that way you won’t rend a nice big gash in your fabric by accident.

protecting embroidery6

Then I removed the rest of the paper with a sharp, pointy pair of scissors. I just cut a circle out of the paper, leaving a bit of the protective layer of tissue all round the hoop’s edge.

So that’s if you don’t want a filthy ring around your embroidery.

If your embroidery is larger than the hoop, or if you have already done a lot of work and want to keep the finished parts of the embroidery clean while you focus on some other area, then you can do this:

protecting embroidery7

Same way of hooping up the work, with tissue over everything. Then, using the seam ripper (much more gingerly and carefully, this time…you don’t want to cut any stitched threads!) and the scissors, I open the paper up just over the spot that I want to work on.

protecting embroidery9

When I had finished one section, I cut a small piece of tissue, and basted it down over part of the hole. After basting, I trimmed all the excess paper around the patch, so it wouldn’t get in my way. I moved on to finish the adjacent area of embroidery.

baste tissue paper over finished areas

When that adjacent part was done, I basted another patch of paper over that hole, closing up the original opening I had made. At the bottom of the picture you can see a little bit of exposed fabric, which is  new hole that I cut so that I could work on this next part of the embroidery.

And. So. On…

To protect the rest of the embroidery that is hanging down from the hoop, you can roll up the longer ends into sausages, encase the sausage in a strip of paper, and baste the whole thing to keep from unrolling. Haven’t tried this yet, but I don’t see why it wouldn’t work.

Hope this helps somebody. It’s too late for this embroidery…this calls for extreme measures. Now I’m off to trawl the web for tips on how to get grime out of a white embroidery! I’m afraid it’s going to require more than batting at it with a little frou-frou pillow or daubing at it with lemon juice! It’s really dirty.

I vow to keep the next embroidery clean!

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embroidery and textiles

Thank you, Ronald Searle, for being you.


cat on a stackFinally got around to doing a cartoon illustration for my bookbinding workshop posters…something I’ve wanted to do for some years! I always knew that the design would borrow, heavily, from Ronald Searle‘s wonderful illustration of a disgruntled cat atop a stack of books, featured in his book Slightly Foxed – but still desirable.

The orange cat here is, of course, my very own Dude…a fatso trying to get comfortable in a very tight space; and the books have been done more decoratively, because I’m a bookbinder, after all, and not a librarian or book dealer. :) But I cannot pretend that this was an original idea…the spirit of Searle so obviously pervades my illustration.

I have always had a special place in my heart for Ronald Searle’s cartoons: his brilliant cats, his scrawly men, his swinging sixties women, his wretchedly nasty St Trinian schoolgirls (yes, that sexed-up, dumbed-down, rather ‘blah’ movie is just Hollywood’s spin on a wonderful series of illustrations by Mr. Searle) and his many, many covers for The New Yorker

I loved Slightly Foxed – but still desirable so much that when I came across it at National Bookstore in Greenhills, about 15 years ago, I bought the two copies the bookstore had. In it, Searle celebrates the joys of rare book collecting by taking the sometimes cryptic descriptions of books found in the catalogs of rare book dealers and antiquarians, and illustrates each in a hilarious and lovable way. To a bookbinder, naturally, these illustrations are an absolute delight.

I still have both books…now also looking ‘slightly foxed’…but all the more desirable for that.

Thank you, Mr. Searle, for your genius of levity!

Ronald Searle is still very much alive…a prolific, joyful and beloved illustrator, there is an amazing amount of his work on the web, as well as interviews and biographies. To see more of his work, I highly recommend the Perpetua: Ronald Searle Tribute blog, and this article from The Times, written in March, 2010…shortly after Mr. Searle’s 90th birthday.

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embroidery and textiles

spontaneous pinboard

the changing weather
There was some spare work for me at the vegetarian takeaway in the mall, so I’ve been busy rousting up a few dollars, and too tired to blog. But I got to stay home today, and what a lovely day it has been! Windy, exhilarating, and everything around me sporting some vivid shade of Beyond Blue.

The household has been a bit neglected for a couple of days, so I started the day by tidying up. When everything on deck had been scrubbed and spiffied, the old kitchen pinboard caught my eye—grotty, grey, riddled with pinholes and spattered with old paint. I figured it’d only take a minute to clean it up, so I spackled the pinholes, sanded it lightly, and rolled three coats of matte ivory house paint on.

Now it resembled a new canvas so strongly that I couldn’t resist pulling out a few pots of paint and daubing big fat flowers, in simple shapes and bright colors, up one side of the pinboard. Shortly after lunch I finished (i.e. restrained myself and left some white space), and the board is back in use.

kitchen pinboard

I dunno…it just makes me happy. The boat needs a splash of color, really…no reason why it should look like a fishing trawler, just because it used to be a fishing trawler. We have done very little nothing to decorate or display art on our boat…it’s ridiculous, when I think of how much we make, and of the many pieces we own that are by other artists. I have only two small square paintings (by Lisa Wolfgramm and Jenni Hall) hanging on the side of a bookshelf (and now Marita’s stuffed Kitty, sharing shelf space with my books,) while Kris has a single framed photograph atop his filing cabinet. And that’s it. Of our paintings, alone, there must be at least fifty, wrapped and stored in the unused engine room. Ridiculous.

Display space is hard to come by on the boat, admittedly…but I’m sure that if I really looked for dead spaces where art could be hung, or our beautiful things put to good use, I would find a fair bit. I started by pulling this large wooden salad bowl—carved from a single block of ebony by a tribal craftsman in Northern Luzon—out of the bilges, and putting my fruits in it. It’s so nice just to be able to rest my eyes on the old thing, again.
kitchen pinboard-2

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embroidery and textiles

Giants of Embroidery: Jazmin Berakha

embroidery by Jazmin Berakha

Jazmin Berakha. Her various web accounts tell us hardly anything about her. That she is based in Buenos Aires, Argentina…and that she is also

“a visual artist with a wide formation in the field of the plastic arts , develops her work in different disciplines, using different supports such as illustration, embroidery, installation, graphic and costume design.”

Such reticence—combined with so many images featuring her strikingly modern embroidered illustrations—is both irresistible and intimidating.

embroidery by Jazmin Berakha

While I have to tell the world every time I manage to embroider anything larger than a button with anything more sophisticated than a cross stitch, here is this amazing artist who never says anything about her work, and who seems to use embroidery with both great skill and insouciance.

embroidery by Jazmin Berakha

Some days I  imagine that she is a shy, gifted artist—the maker of so many beautiful things, but too modest to make a big fuss over them—and on other days I tell myself she must be so superior, so bored with people, that she simply makes what she makes, and can’t be bothered to explain any of it, except to her clients. She may, of course, be neither! And I like that, not knowing who she is or what she’s like.

embroidery by Jazmin Berakha

No, I’m not going to e-mail her or introduce myself and try to find more out about her, because if she had wanted the attention, she would’ve put more of herself out there, in the first place. If being reticent is the price one pays for being so prolific and distinctive, then good grief, let her be reticent!

Besides, it’s nice to be in thrall to a mystery, sometimes.

embroidery by Jazmin Berakha

via Jazmin Berakha’s blog, website, and Tumblr.

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embroidery and textiles

New in my shops: fabric senbazuru (origami CRANES, doh!)

My creation

1. fabric origami cranes — color palette, 2. hot pink crane, 3. lavender crane, 4. black white and red crane, 5. olive crane, 6. pink crane, 7. mid blue crane, 8. bright floral crane, 9. black and white crane, 10. navy blue crane, 11. magenta crane, 12. coral pink crane, 13. chocolate crane, 14. bright red crane, 15. dark red crane, 16. pale pink floral crane

Created with fd’s Flickr Toys

A project I’ve been keeping under wraps until I had enough of them: I’m making senbazuru (origami cranes) out of fabric…using up those fabrics that I really just have too much of and never use. They’re lined with interfacing, to give some stiffness, and made using a clothes press that Kris brought me from the dump, years ago. Finally found a use for the thing! I have to start the generator to use it though, so after the initial rush of enthusiasm I got tired of making them. I think I’ll go back to doing paper ones, late at night, in the silence. :)

But I’ve made a couple hundred of these fabric ones, though…it’s a good start! I’ve put an eyelet in each one for hanging.

They’re for sale in packs of five on my Etsy and madeit.com.au shops.

bokeh senbazuru...fabric origami

So far I’ve just hung a whole bunch of them, red ones mainly, from the ceiling above my bed (so nice to wake up and gaze at a flock of red cranes gently bobbing overhead, aglow in the slanting morning light). I took a bunch of pictures using a homemade, triangle-shaped bokeh filter a few days ago…I liked the way the triangle echoed the cranes’ wings.

Other things I am thinking of doing with them are stitching them in a graceful flight pattern on a skirt, and embroidering the wings on a couple of them, to hang in the shinto altar in Kris’s sailboat (when he gets back, of course) Kris spent many years in Japan…he speaks Japanese, reads it well, can write it a bit, too. He would love these, I know.

*momentary pang…miss him so much all ready*

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embroidery and textiles

The Canned Creativity plague…

red fabric origami cranes

The quality that we call beauty, however, must always grow from the realities of life; and our ancestors, forced to live in dark rooms, presently came to discover beauty in shadows, ultimately to guide shadows towards beauty’s ends.

Junichiro Tanizaki, In Praise of Shadows

I don’t use prompts (writing nor drawing) often, because I have quite a long list of things I know I want to do, all ready…

But sometimes there are so many ideas that it’s hard to decide what to start on first, or which ones to include and which to leave out. Sometimes I need a wild card, a random way of decision-making that will, paradoxically, introduce restrictions and parameters to my ideas. So I did a couple of drawings in my visual journal, using words scribbled on pieces of paper and pulled out of a sandwich bag to get me started.

I’m going to call this an exercise in imagination and self-reliance. I’m a big fan of self reliance.

Creativity?

Creativity, as the word is being thrown about these days, is overrated. Creativity is a busy bustling-about, just making piles of stuff. It’s throwing together fancy papers, glossy magazine cut-outs, decorative clip art, rubber stamps and decal sheets that you bought, conveniently, at a shop specialising in the paraphernalia of today’s scrapbooking and mixed-media hysteria. It’s fooling yourself into thinking you make ‘art’ without having to do any of the drawing, come up with any of the images, make any of the mistakes, or face up to—and deal with—any of your own limitations as an artist. It’s following step-by-step articles on “How to make art” in magazines like Cloth, Paper, and $70-worth of Gimcracks (whatever!)

It’s raping and pillaging the past for beautiful things that you can use, not caring how they came to be, nor why, nor having any sort of personal connection to that beauty. It’s writing a post about a bento box of kawaii food, shaped to look like Hello Kitty and her telephone—with pink and yellow marzipan hairbows—and saying “OMG, that’s so wabi-sabi…so, like, zen and shit!” Junichiro Tanizaki just howled in his grave.

It’s pushing everything in the world—indiscriminately and ignorantly—through the filter of eye-candy.

The internet is plagued by this consumeristic, utterly soulless “creativity”…slap someone’s vintage photograph (you neither know nor care who the person was) on top of some paint daubs, edge it with bits of lace, fake ‘ephemeral’ ticket stubs and postage stamps, throw in some handwritten French for fuck’s sake, Japanese masking tape with cherries, some cheap Made-in-China embellishments painted to look like brass, rubberstamp a blackbird here, a flowering branch there, and then take everything to new depths of mawkishness by gluing a big word on (N.B. remember to choose the word for it’s color-coordination and not because it relates to the rest of the work!) that says either “Dream,” “Sing,” “Love,” “Create,” or “Paris.” Ubiquitous, banal words that have been stripped of their significance by this trivializing and indifferent “creativity”.

And everyone should imitate everybody else, so that one person’s work could pass for another’s, because the ideas all came from the same magazines and websites, the materials were purchased at the same shops. A horrible, beige-colored, homogeneous mass.

There. I said it. *evil chuckle* “Jee-sus, Nat, that was a bit harsh!”

My blog, my opinions. *laughing* I’ve gone right off the rails with this one, haven’t I? Heh heh. That’s okay, scares away the riff-raff…if anyone’s still reading this, I’ll be posting a polite—I promise!—piece about drawing exercises in day or two, over on my other blog. :D

UPDATE:

Rather than reply to comments individually (and end up copy/pasting from one to the next), I’ll just tack this on here, where it can serve double-duty as a refinement.

You’re right, Carl, (see comments, please) and I’m not actually saying that there aren’t any creative people, bloggers or otherwise, out there. I’m really attacking that insidious consumer product, “Creativity”, with a capital C , that everyone is sort of being pushed towards, and that many embrace because it’s easier to do, after all, and less frightening than finding yourself alone in a room, facing the blank canvas. Everyone is creative. But it is an inner resource, you must reach into yourself and draw it out. You cannot buy it, and there is no need to look outside of yourself for it, because it’s not out there, it’s within you.

I am also attacking, on the consumer’s end of things, status anxiety. Often the kind of creativity-in-a-bottle that I write about, here, isn’t about the making of art, at all. It’s about wanting others to like us, it’s surrendering our personal growth in exchange for the warm fuzzy feeling of acceptance. It’s the pressure to make likeable art—safe, inoffensive, lighthearted— and maintain that “we’re all friends here” atmosphere. A lot of blogger art communities resemble, unnervingly, support groups or Sunday socials.

Status anxiety is the need to belong and be welcomed by a group; it’s the force that encourages a person to make things that will be popular and familiar to others, so that they will welcome you with open arms and call you one of their own. Nothing wrong with nurturing your community, but I am going to stick to my guns here and insist that making friends and making art are two different things…so know which one you really want and then, by all means, go for it! But if you set about making art that aims to please others and make yourself likeable, you will be enriching your social contacts at the expense of your growth as an artist, at the expense of your art.

Doris Stricher —whose work, please note, I neither understand nor feel drawn to, but whom I respect because it is so obviously her own fierce and uncompromising vision (This is important: Your work does not have to be liked by others, for you to be an artist…it’s not about being liked, it’s about being an individual, and it’s about integrity)—puts it succinctly:

“A work of art is the unique result of a unique temperament. Its beauty comes from the fact that the author is what he is. It has nothing to do with the fact that other people want what they want. Indeed, the moment that an artist takes notice of what other people want, and tries to supply the demand, he ceases to be an artist.”

As for platitudes about not criticizing anything, my fave is : “I don’t think you’re a very good friend if you’re always being supportive. You also have to add criticism.” Jason Kottke (1973 – )

So I mean well, but it may not be what you want to hear, and that’s okay, because I need to say things, more than I need to be liked.

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