Chapter 4 : Fabric Investigation 2 : Edges

 So there's much to take forward from Fabric Investigation 1.  What I wanted to do was marry up the technical properties of the fabrics with my six months of field gazing.  In other words I wanted to interpret my observations through this process.

 Amongst my fabric collection was a metre of grey beige nettle linen handwoven in Lithuania.  When it arrived there was a fairly heady smell of countyside, so I laundered it immediately.  The washing machine was not completely happy, but when the fabric edge dried it was wonderfully tufted (4:12)  Not only that, but it also seemed to share the same DNA as my final woven piece in Ever Deeper Rabbit Holes.  I pulled out some threads, then knotted clumps together, finally doing the same on the other side of the strip and twisting it, thus making a series of three, and then one more.

Ragged and Rhythmic

4:12

 

4:13

4:14

Then what about drawing threads and with the withdrawn threads loop them through the fringe as in 4:12  Surprisingly all these images are made in the same fabric, it is the difference in light and background which create the range of tones.

4:15

Below are yet more samples in a range of other fabrics.  This edge making process has become a conversation between the suggestions in the module, the fabrics I'd chosen and my images, memories and descriptions of my field.

Growth and Disintegration

In the set of edges below I've used scoured cotton, pulling out most of the weft and leaving differing heights of warp above and below.  These strands are photographed just as they fell.

4:16

Below in 4:17 the warps have been straightened, then randomly chopped at angles. The reverse is shown in 4:18.

4:17

4:18

Finally Image 4:17 has been loosely rippled.

4:19

I began this set with a very long strip of scoured cotton and these small bundles of warps are the leftovers.  I grouped them together very loosely, tied and tossed down randomly in a line.

4:20

Imprints and Remnants

The following three edges have been achieved with a soldering iron.

4:21

Firstly, burning an imprint on wool, rather like the clumps of grass, dandelions and thistles.

4:22

4:23

The two images above are worked on chiffon: randomly cut shapes worked on with the point of the soldering iron to distress the edges and make holes in the centre, curling up and overlapping each other.  Image 4:23 shows a strip of chiffon which has been slashed on both sides with the soldering iron.

Sinuous and Spiky

Now for a series of samples where I've been thinking about stems, stalks, blades, leaves and thorns.

4:24 
Interfacing with Surgeons Knots

4:25 
 Polyester with Net

4:26 
 Rolled Interfacing wrapped with bundles of
 Cotton Thread, knotted and tied

4:27 
 Torn Strip of Polyester tied with Silk Triangles

Now how about layering two edges?  Here's an example:

4:28
Clumps and Chiffon

Now for a couple of Cotton Organdie samples, though nicely rhythmic, I feel they're a little too stiff.

4:29

4:30

Wrapped and Twined

Following on from 4:29 and 4:30 are a further three ideas, exploring other things I've noticed in the field.  4:31 is inspired by the way convolvulus  twists and wraps itself round the stems of other plants. Fine silk has been stitched round garden wire and wrapped round a pencil and stretched in places before a length of scoured cotton is threaded through the loops.

4:31

The final two samples take up the idea of  plastic wrapped around the trunks of hedge plants and how they spring off and out and away as the trunks grow.  I was imagining a row of these, though possibly a little more tightly wound.  I thought the net might allow something to show if pushed through the middle.  On reflection though, it is less easy to control than the cotton organdie.

4:32

4:33

Coming to the end of these samples I realise I've interpreted what is an "edge" quite liberally and this may be something to do with the way the field has infiltrated my mind.  The nettle samples are literally on the edge, but others may well need to be appliqued to a background fabric or possibly threaded through.  Of these, the samples which are particularly dimensional might be flattened somewhat in the process, losing that "alive" and spontaneous feel.  Attaching "edges" to a piece of work would appear to be another problem-solving activity!  What I do like particularly about these samples though,  is the rhythm and repetition within them without their elements being exact repeats.

Reflecting on the first sentence I wrote on this post about trying to marry up the technical properties of my fabric collection with the inspirations I've drawn from my field,  I would say there is much more to be explored. Though I've tried to make the right selections for the samples above they really are only experiments, hopefully after further experience my selections will be more sure-footed.

Chapter 4: Fabric Investigation I

 This has been such an interesting series of tasks; it's possible to learn a great deal about each fabric through looking carefully and describing what you see, followed by some very simple experiments.  

Fortunately some time ago I had had a massive sort out and tidy-up of the fabrics I have in stock, learning along the way how much I lean towards natural fibres, labelling those fabrics by fibre content.  I discovered that I was unsure about the content the man-made fabrics I had.  As a result I went out and bought a few bits and pieces, finding out along the way just how many fabrics use a combination of fibres, for example wool/viscose to make felt (see 4:8 below), and Silk/velvet is another such example (see 4:6 below).  Presumably such combinations aim to exploit the best of both fibre types.

I also want to comment further about Man-made fabrics, which have been produced in response to Natural ones, trying to mimic transparency, lightness, drapability but also try to preclude a propensity to crease or any other qualities which are seen as less desirable.  Of course cost and supply also come into play.

 A useful aid in ensuring I had a good spread of both natural and man-made fibres was a chart in Sew Guide.com

4:1 Range of Fabrics Tested

Here then below are tables showing the result of my investigation:

4:2 Cotton

4:3 Burning and Melting Cotton Fibres

4:4 Linen

    

                                     

4:5 Burning and Melting Linen Fibres

                                  

4:6 Silk 

4:7 Burning and Melting Silk Fibres

4:8

I've included Wool/Viscose Felt and Viscose Felt in this table to make the comparison easy to see.

4:9 Burning and Melting Wool Fabrics

4:10 Man-made

4:11 Burning and Melting Man-made Fibres

Final Thoughts:

• Texture is seen as well as felt. There are such contrasting textures amongst my samples: think of damask and dishcloth, hemp and net. Texture can be imagined too and in doing so the leap as to how it will behave and how it might be used is made.

• A fabric's yarn and structure can determine how this behaviour and again where best it can be used.  The warp and weft of nettle linen and lawn are vastly different and will behave differently.  Then there are knitted fabrics, another thing entirely, where stretch is a priority.

• The effects of flame and heat are a matter of safety, but in the context of this module are yet another way of seeing how fabric can be manipulated: think about the cut, curl and shrink of chiffon, the irregular die back of fine calico.  I well remember from the beads I made for the final piece in Module 3 how difficult it is to control the effects of heat: one moment nothing has happened, the next one's carefully planned idea has gone up in smoke.

• At the back of my mind is the field gazing I've been doing, the textures, the contrasts, the shapes which interplay and I'm very much looking forward to marrying these experimental findings with my outdoor observations.

Scrolls or After My Tutorial

 After my tutorial with Sian I had every intention of returning to Chapter 3: Texture and Relief in Paper, however . . . she had suggested, and we had discussed so many very intriguing ideas that I have not got there yet.  So, this post is mostly about scrolls and the very lovely time I've spent creating them.

High Contrast Hedgerow Image

3:74   Sample 2

3:75   Sample 1

3:76   Sample 3

Above are three versions of the same idea, in fact 3:75 was the first, but my computer seems to protest the images in that order!  Here are three attached strips: newsprint, a narrow band of black tissue and above that a strip of white tissue with dry-bushed ink markings.  I took my two metre strip along to my field and folded it and scrumpled it to create the fan-like wave you see.

In 3:76, the second sample, I took three narrower strips and this time tore the edges, creating undulations.  I used Japanese paper at the bottom, newsprint, then tissue dry-brushed as in Sample 1.  This narrower strip made for some nice angles in the dry-brushed area.  I also thought the very roughly torn edges were much more effective.  Another rather lovely effect is where the newsprint came unstuck producing some attractive irregular loops.

In 3:77, the third sample, I made a deeper strip and tore two newsprint bands which I overlapped.  There is the loveliest sense of movement in this piece, though I do think as in the previous two samples that the dry brushing is too uniform and because it's wider that I've been able been unable to achieve those lovely angles of Sample 2.

Seeing these samples on the screen I'm reminded of two other pieces I've made: a drawn thread work  piece dipped in paper pulp from Module 4 had similar undulations and ragged character, and the Fish Collar from Module 2 where shibori and embroidered fabric is pieced together.

I've included the hedgerow image I took in early spring to explain the trajectory for these pieces.

* * *

Now to more scrolls:

3:77

This time, a series of drawings in walnut ink of plants in the field.  These were done at home where a little extra detail was added with fine artist's pens in sanguine.  They're drawn on rag paper and are a little heavy handed, compounded by an attempt to add bird song using charcoal.  I stitched the individual pieces together with linen thread.

3:78

 

Better were the sketches done in situ on the backs of envelopes:they have a lighter touch.  These I also stitched together, but because the envelopes were all different sizes the scroll would not stand unaided, nor would it roll onto the cotton reel.  Many lessons learnt!

*  *  *

I had really enjoyed manipulating the tissue paper and it seemed natural to create a scroll of tissue close-ups again observing plants within my field.

3:79

Some of the plants are repeats: blackthorn and dandelion.  Others explore hips, plantain, grasses, oil seed rape pods and dog rose canes.  These samples are mounted, labeled with the attribute I think they express -- wiry, pleated, tubular etc.  The individual cards are then punched and tied and knotted at the back with black hemp.

*   *   *

I've been studiously avoiding trying this last suggestion of Sian's;  I wasn't sure that I'd understood and maybe I haven't and this is entirely my own invention.  Either way, I think the results are interesting.

3:80

3:81

In version 3:80 two irregularly torn strips of black sugar paper and tracing paper are glued lengthways.  The black sugar paper is cut into to create spikes of paper of varying lengths, looking something like blackthorn spikes in early spring.

In version 3:81 the waste paper spikes have been placed randomly underneath the tracing paper simulating shadows.

 

A third version, 3:82, shows this more clearly: the waste spikes are glued to the under side of the tracing paper, giving the piece a range of tones.  Their placement though should have been a little less irregular.

3:82

Ever Deeper Rabbit Holes

 Every time I went out to my field I kept seeing its textures in terms of weaving.  Why not test out the idea?  And so I sent for a little loom and put my thinking to the test.  I'm very fortunate to belong to a textile group which is run by a weaver and she has acted as mentor whilst I grappled with techniques and a vocabulary new to me.  It's been a very exhilarating experience.

Below are a number of experiments:

Over the course of making these pieces my skills have improved greatly, culminating in the piece below which is 5cm wide and 25cm long.  Unlike the pieces above I decided not to weave in all the ends feeling they gave a sense of wild growth just as I'd noticed at the height of summer.

All the pieces were inspired by markings on the ground and the play of sunshine and shadows.

Establishing my Apprenticeship

 A spell of really wonderful weather and it's my fourteenth visit to my field.  This apprenticeship is serving me well: now I'm getting much better at observing rather than judging.  Near the field entrance the docks and grasses continue to stretch skyward, such a contrast in scale with the tiny Scarlet Pimpernel at their base.  The docks are ginger-red and fluttering through and around them are meadow browns and large skippers.  Further into the field are cabbage whites.  Insects are everywhere: bees, flies of many sorts hovering and landing where they will.

3:71

From a distance the field gives the impression of a cricket pitch in waiting, a perfect uniform green that on closer inspection turns out to be weeds sprinkled liberally over the ground.  And here's a theme, things aren't quite what they seem.  Just because an area is left to re-wild does not mean that everything growing there is wild.  As I walk the perimeter I discover golden rod and Michaelmas daisies in the field margins.  Also, among the grasses I've so admired, are wheat and barley.  They again do not have the perfection of those I see in the large Norfolk fields, but maybe I've got that wrong too, and even those in other fields are flawed, their growth also at the mercy of weather and soil conditions.

The moles have been active again and within the field margin I notice a fox's scat and nearby pigeon's feathers.  A single young hare runs away from where his nest may once have been and much further round a bird (most likely a pheasant) runs decoy across the top of the field.  I walk on and there are cries of alarm low down in the undergrowth.  I move slowly on, talking softly to myself and there is quiet.

Finally, I'm seated in the peace taking in the twist and turn of blades of grass, the sunshine and shadow, the light and dark.

* * *

One week later and I'm back again. It's lovely weather.  I have pared down my kit and will concentrate today on drawing.  I have been reading Kurt Jackson's Sketchbook, recommended by Shelly Rhodes. I park the car and next to it notice a gap in the hedge, not all the way to ground level but a sort of aperture, displaying for me a tangle of brambles, a few specimen leaves and odd twigs.  My papers are clipped to a board, likewise my screw-capped water holder, the paint palette is resting on the car's roof.  Though I don't manage to create the feeling of enclosure, in fact I don't think about it at the time at all. I like my sketch, or maybe what I like is my endeavour and my lack of self-consciousness.  KJ mentions scratching the paper surface, which I have tried before, but need to practise a time or two before I next venture out.

It's a day of signals; the wind flutters the large leaves I've noticed in the field, some sort of temporary planting -- time will tell; they're like prayer flags.  Also clinging to the occasional spent stem are tiny white feathers designating the place as special.  And luminously, star-like are the tufted tops of Bearded Hawkswell, ready to communicate with anywhere the wind chooses.  White too are the many butterflies dancing above this mystery crop.

3:72

The seeds of old docks continue to ripen, rust-red and elsewhere in the field margin are a new tender crop, nature's succession planting.  The arcs of golden grass are still there, their seed spilt.  And all along the margins seem to be resting places, crushed grassy nests.  Though I don't know what feels safe in these places I do meet a pheasant who rushes noisily away, and a hare, a larger one than last week, who leaves the safety of the shadows and runs in a great distracting arc from behind me and away across the field.  Birdsong, butterflies, a tiny pale green moth that flutters and lands folding its wings to become a leaf. I glance down and see a grasshopper jumping through the leaves: such wild and lovely diversions.

3:73

It's now the beginning of August; there's been so much rain that the entry to the field has been flattened; the pathway to my observation spot is now clearly defined.  A lone bird sings teasingly and clear.  It's not alone, as I walk the bounds others join in.  Butterflies are everywhere, from a flutter of Brown Meadows at the entrance, to a single Red Admiral at the bottom of the field. Cabbage Whites are everywhere, as they were last week.  Insects abound: bees, wasps, flies, gnats and one spider, who having woven a complex wrapping round a tender shoot, abandons it as I advance.  There is a busyiness in the field's life: throughout groups of Brown Hay Mushrooms have sprung up; moles continue colonising two edges of the cultivated centre, and though there is a paucity of growth in the areas shaded by trees and the high hedges, the ebb and flow of plants sprouting and decaying continues leaving me to marvel at the tender and the tough and the parachuting seed heads drifting by.

3:74
Shaded Area

3:75
Grasses

3:76
 Queen Anne's Lace Seed Head

3:77
Spider's Web