Tag Archives: travel

Looking Forward, Looking Back

It’s January, the first month of the new year as well as my birth month. It’s the month when the ancient god Janus for whom the month gets its name, compels us to take stock of where we’ve been and what we’ve done as we look to the future for where we’re going and what we’ll do. He is the god with two faces, looking forward and looking back. He predates the Roman gods and is likely a god from Etruscan origins. The Etruscans are near and dear to me, in spite of what little is known of their culture. Their artwork is glorious and is seen in subsequent centuries in Roman culture. I visited Tarquinia in the late 1970s, in college, where there are many Etruscan tombs with artwork still intact. I had the thrill of being there again a couple of months ago, in October. The images of Etruscan artwork are prominent in my mind this month as I plan for the future.

This is my last year in my 60s. This is a year where I want to pay particular attention to looking back so I can determine where and how I want to go forward Into what will hopefully more than a decade of continued creativity. I know I have to keep de-stashing and even more importantly, I want to create things. I realize I must clear some space both physically and mentally in order to create. I am becoming bogged down in my own stuff. Someone else, younger, with more years of creativity in their future, needs to take some of this burden off my hands.

I’ve been in Antigua for 6 days now. I was treated to a quick tropical squall on the morning of my birthday, followed by a beautiful rainbow.

Then the day progressed with getting a cooking/baking lesson with the French chef of La Brasserie in English Harbour, Antigua. Eric gave me a lesson in making macaroons with fillings. He made me a large macaroon cake which is called an ‘Ispahan’ in French. My macaron cake was scented with rose water, and the filling was a butter cream/custard mixture which I also learned to make, raspberry jam, and fresh raspberries. It’s wonderful to have a beautiful dessert that tastes as good as it looks.

It’s been a rather busy few days since we arrived in Antigua. We’ve met up with cruising friends who have either returned here or stayed here through the holidays. Some non-sailing friends visited during their winter vacation here. It’s their first time in Antigua, and setting aside the Christmas winds that have arrived bringing high winds and rain, I think they are enjoying the island.

Today is our first day with no scheduled events, so we took our dinghy to a new breakfast place called You and Me. It has well shaded outdoor seating area with great views of the head of Falmouth Harbour.

After I finish this blog post I intend to knit for most of the day. My older son gave me a wonderful selection of yarn for Christmas. It’s from a local shop near him, and the yarn is “Yarn Citizens Luxe.” He bought five colors: Pearl (close to white), Heather (barely lavender), Jasmine (medium lavender), Ocean (medium indigo), and Coal (medium charcoal grey). The yarn is 49% baby alpaca, 39 % mulberry silk, and 12% cashmere. I can barely feel it as I knit, and it looks like a cloud.

My goal this year is to concentrate on finishing many UFOs, but this gemlike yarn obviously took precedence. I’m knitting a simple top/down raglan sweater and will use the colors from palest at the neckline to darkest at the hem. Even with our busy schedule, I’ve made sure to have relaxing knitting time part of every day.

Looking back, I am more satisfied than I expected with my projects this year. I should make a record of them, and to help me accomplish that my younger son introduced me to the app called Notion a couple of years ago. Notion allows you to keep track of projects in motion, to keep track of the order in which one needs to tackle projects, and to keep a record of things accomplished. I still haven’t managed how to include photos with this work tracking app, so I haven’t used it to its best potential. On the other end of the organized spectrum, I have an older friend who records all her finished projects in a regular notebook with a printout of the photo she takes when she finishes something. I have not resorted to that method because I have a basic dislike of having a lot of notebooks taking up precious space on my shelves. The notebooks I already have are burdensome enough, not to mention the many decades of periodicals I have kept and the books I own. While these are all precious possessions to me, the lack of space is getting worrisome. Sometimes I feel I might get buried in my workshop and never escape. Learning how to better use Notion this year is pretty high on my list.

In November I was invited to participate in a textile arts exhibit at a private club in Hartford. I think there were only eight invitees, and two of us were new to this event. The exhibit will be on display for the months of January and February. The club held a lovely opening reception a couple of days before Bob and I left to come back to Antigua. I invited a good friend to join me, and when I arrived I realized I knew quite a few of the attendees, but only one of the other artists. It’s always inspiring to see what other textile artists do, and I came away with wonderful images in my head. I was the only tapestry artist on display.

I thought above the fireplace was a prime place for artwork, and I was honored to have a piece there. On the left are two felted landscapes done by the only other artist I knew from the group, Diane Cadrain. On the right is my tapestry “Sunset on Wilson Cove.”

To list the things I feel are accomplishments I’ve made this year, I might put this exhibit at the top of the list. It’s not often that textile artists have a venue to show their work, and I’m very glad I was asked and glad that I managed to pull some works together before leaving the country. I participated in two other shows during this year, and while that’s not much, it makes three events that brought tapestry weaving to the public.

I did a lot of weaving this year. I finished half the warp of woven sashiko, and I made a number of sakiori samples which led to a vest that actually fits me and a tote bag I’m enjoying using. I have the tote bag with me now on Pandora.

Jody captured the best view of the vest which is from the back (althought it’s quite wrinkled from a long car ride!). There are side gussets of sakiori and two sakiori pockets on the front, but the back is almost entirely sakiori. Here’s the front—a photo also taken by my friend Jody.

The fabric for the trim on this vest is what I used as the fabric strips for weaving.

I wove my first wedge weave tapestry, wove half the warp of my sashiko project and gave away four of the finished squares.

At long last I finished the Caribbean tapestry that I began during the pandemic. I can’t post a photo of it because I plan to submit it the Connecticut biennial when I return home. What I can show is the wonderful frame Bob built for the tapestry. This is our best attempt so far at having the back be as neat and tidy as the front.

This fall I made some fabric trays for a party favor for an upcoming event I will not be able to attend, and I made three lace flowers that I included in a fascinator that was made from various pieces of antigue machine lace I have and several ribbon embroidered flowers that I’ve made over the years. That was a fun project initiated by my lace group to become a new category of lace at the Big E Arts and Crafts exhibition. The fascinators are now on display at a local library.

And then there was a little weaving and a LOT of dyeing in Umbria, Italy, which I wrote about here and here. In December my friend Jody and I put some of our new knowledge to work during a two-day dyeing session in my kitchen—right after the new year. We used indigo, weld, madder, and olive leaves and branches from my olive tree. It was hard to stop, and it’s one of the first things I want to do when I return home. The circle of colors starting on the lower right is 3 shades of maddder, , weld, olive leaves, weld with a short dip in indigo, two skeins in indigo (the first one is very blotchy, not sure why), and the last two are indigo dipped in madder. The last skein is close to a color I wanted to recreate from one of the skeins we dyed in Italy. I look forward to attempting that again at home this spring.

I also finished two knitted items this year: a vest with the yarns I got from the 2023 Kate Davies advent yarn box. It is tunic length and has a shadow knitting pattern running through it. The 2nd project is a sweater from a Kate Davies pattern called “Auchnaha.” I used her beautiful ooskit yarn in a natural grey/brown. I’ve enjoyed wearing both these sweaters before leaving New England for the tropical weather in Antigua.

Just before I left home I stopped at Hartford Artisans for a short meeting. It’s impossible to go there without being tempted by any number of wonderful handwoven/handmade things. This time I succumbed to this charming little pouch. It had a rather sad plastic button that imitated bronze. That just would not do! I changed the button to a shell, and added a shell to the plain commercial fabric at the top. I also added a piece of kumihimo from my stash of samples to turn the pouch into a wristlet purse. I’ve got it with me now in the Caribbean, and it is perfect here!

I’m pretty sure I have accomplished significantly more this year than in previous years. While it feels awkward and quite self-absorbed to list all my finished projects, I am trying to understand how I did these things, and how I can maintain this surge of work in 2025. It takes luck, of course, since we need good health to be productive, and that’s something none of us can predict. It’s time to knuckle down to learn more about Notion so I can keep better records, to de-stash my extensive work space, and get down to the business of doing what I love. Forward ho!

Jacquard Weaving in Perugia

Here I sit in English Harbour, Antigua, thinking about my recent return from Umbria, Italy, and the highlight of my time there: a visit to a jacquard weaving museum and atelier in Perugia that is housed in a 13th c. Franciscan church.

Perugia became a walled city in the Middle Ages, prior to the building of this church in 1212. It was originally a simple hermitage that was founded by St. Francis of Assisi when he and his followers stayed here together. By 1252 the monastery was ceded to Benedictine nuns and given the name San Francesco delle Donne. St. Francis of the women—for the women? It was abandoned numerous times through the centuries, and I don’t know those stories. Our host at La Romita, the art school where we were taking a workshop on tapestry weaving and natural dyeing, mentioned that Perugia defended itself many times over the centuries. Most of the conflicts had to do with the vying city states and their status in the Catholic Church, and throughout the Middle Ages Perugia was an impoverished place, in spite of their reputation for excellent craftsmanship in pottery and textiles, and probably other fine crafts that I haven’t found in my searches. There is some great information on the Giuditta Brozzetti website.

The Brozzetti family started the weaving museum and atelier in 1912, but not in its current location. The museum is named in honor of the current owner’s great grandmother, Giuditta Brozzetti. Giuditta started an atelier to bring back the historic handwovens of Perugia, especially the “Perugian tablecloths” that were often used as altar cloths in churches, as well as being tablecloths in the homes of the very wealthy. Textiles were far more valuable throughout history than they are today and were always listed in the inventories of wealthy families. The atelier and museum moved to this magnificent site in the church in 1996. I believe it took a lot of work to bring the church into state we see it today. It is magnificent!

Here is an excerpt from an interview with Marta Cucchia, the great granddaughter of the founder and current owner:

My studio is one of the last weaving ateliers in Italy – and the only one that reproduces medieval Perugian Tableclothes using Jacquard looms from nineteenth century. Furthermore, with the pedal looms, typical of the Umbrian countryside, we create fabrics using millenary techniques passed down orally from generation to generation. My great-grandmother, Giuditta Brozzetti, founded this Laboratory in 1921. From then on, the passion for hand-weaving was passed down from mother to daughter, each woman bringing her own experience according to her personality and studies.”

Marta has four women who assist her in the studio, and they have all come out of textile schools to make this field their livelihood. What an exciting place to work!

Some of the projects that Marta oversees are replicas of actual textiles in paintings from the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. During our visit Marta showed us a couple of impressive replicas. She had high resolution images taken of Leonardo da Vinci’s “Last Supper,” and she had small areas enlarged so she could study the tablecloth. In hind sight, why didn’t I think to ask her if she thought that cloth had been woven in Perugia?

Even in this low resolution image of the fresco, taken from the intenet, you can see that the tablecloth is highly figured at each end, but also there is a hint that the white on white areas also have interesting weave structures.

Detail of a similar fabric from a different painting:

Here Marta is showing us some of the images she used to design the tablecloth. Clearly I am scratching my head in amazement!

Photo by Jody Brewer

And here is the finished cloth, woven at the Giuditta Brozzetti Atelier:

The jacquard looms in this studio are all from the 19th c except one that is older from the 18 c. These are hand manipulated looms, where the process of weaving involves attaching every thread in the warp to a jacquard attachment that has a series of cards that control the patterns. The weaver stands at the front of the loom and depresses the one treadle (a heavy one that sits rather high off the ground!) with her right foot —yes, they are all women at this atelier. Depressing the treadle opens the shed, and the weaver pushes a lever that is above the beater that engages one of the jacquard cards, then she pulls a cord that sends the fly shuttle through the shed of the open warp. Here is a video of the process, although at this point the weaver is weaving some plain weave between the designs, rather than the more interesting pattern.

Here is Marta showing us one of the many charts of jacquard designs in her collection. These graphed charts are used to make the cards which will control the weaving patten on the looms.

And here is my best attempt at getting a shot of the entire loom. The warp on the loom will be obvious to most of you. The yellow cords anre atracked to each warp thread and are running vertically to a loft area where you just see a bit of the roll of cards used to weave the design. There are other ‘chains’ of cards being stored on the railing of the loft.

I neglected to count how many jacquard looms are in this large studio, but here’s a photo of the long row of them in the museum.

Many traditional Perugian designs can be woven on regular shaft looms with floor treadles. Marta demonstrated this on what looks like an equally old loom to the jacquard looms.

Here is particularly stunning tablecloth woven on a shaft loom in a traditional woven structure with luscious colors. I tentatively asked if it was for sale (and the price) and learned that Marta wove this tablecloth for her wedding. What a treasure…

During the time when Marta’s mother led this studio they produced some designs for clothing. During Marta’s tenure she has also had commissions from Italian haut couture houses.

Photo by Jody Brewer

These dresses were designed and woven here, and I’m guessing this occurred in a past decade, perhaps the 1960s? 1970s?

There are other modern designs available here. This is quite a striking pattern that was for sale as a shawl or a cushion.

While we were there one of the weavers brought out this tiny gem woven in the same structure. They are not yet available, but as soon as they are I need one! I’m sure they will be popular. When I posted a photo of this Facebook some of my friends immediately asked how to get one.

This is my prize purchase from the day, a gem that gives me a little shiver of thrill whenever I take it with me somewhere. It is equally beautiful on the inside, lined in a fine silk fabric from Fendi.

Marta and I also discussed some of the fine finishing that goes into many of the pieces they make. In particular, Marta’s mother adds a beautiful bullion edge to some of the table runners. I must give this a try on some of my handwoven projects. I bought a small runner that I cannot show you because it is at home, and I am writing this in Antigua. Mine is off white on white, with jacquard designs at each end, and the point twill design in the middle. This one is far more elaborate, but I want you see the bullion stitch edges.

Each one of the pieces woven here are exceptional examples of textile skill. In many parts of the US, textiles are no longer valued as they deserve. I hope we can bring some of that respect and awe back into our lives. My house is full of my own handwovens, and sometimes I marvel that many of my guests don’t realize that. I’m not sure people even see textiles anymore, beyond noticing someone in a beautiful dress. There is so much to marvel at in the world of handmade cloth. The Giuditta Brozzetti Museum and Atelier has to be one of the best places to go and relish the beauty of handwoven goods. Get there if you can! If not, there are beautiful images and descriptions on the website.

Work in Challenging Conditions

We are having a rip-snorting winter season in the Caribbean. I would prefer a gentle season, but there is no bargaining with Mother Nature. Actually, I know this weather is not her fault. It’s humanity’s fault, so I am partly to blame. I won’t go into the weather here, but you can see some pretty frightening images and videos on my husband’s recent post on SailPandora. We moved to the mooring field in Les Saintes one day before this storm hit, and it was a good choice for staying safe.

Not many days have been calm enough for weaving onboard, but I am trying. I brought so many projects onboard, and I feel compelled to make progress and even finish a few of them. If I finish two tapestries I won’t have to cart the looms home with me when I fly home in April. That’s a pretty strong reason to get them done!

I am trying my hand at wedge weave, and I started this project back in July under the tutelage of Connie Lippert at the NEWS conference in Worcester, Massachusetts. For some reason my brain gets confused on which direction the wedges travel and when to continue on the diagonal or move across the warp to create a horizontal section. I may have unwoven almost as much as I’ve woven, and I don’t seem any closer to making sense of the angles. Old age? I hope not!

During the July class I added the little gold rectangle woven in Gobelins style. While onboard I wanted to add a more complex bit of Gobelins style, so I wove the square that has a couple of shapes inside it.

Here is the one glorious day when I was able to weave in the fresh air in Pandora’s cockpit.

I have consulted Connie a couple of times along the way recently. Being outside the US makes me feel a bit disconnected which can also make me wonder if I’ve taken a detour away from where I need to go to acquire some skills at wedge weave. I’ve had an impulse to add a circle to the wedge weave. I pondered this, wondering if I’d have to weave an easier shape, like a square, in order to put the circle inside it. But that is not what I envisioned. I wanted a circle with the wedges abutting the edges of the circle. Connie thought I should give it a try.

I now have my circle!…but, my wedges are going in opposite directions. I’m not sure what will happen when the wedges meet above the circle. These wedges are confusing me!

In other news I’ve made some wonderful textile purchases. Bob and I took a day trip with friends while in Dominica, to visit the private lands owned by the Kalinago nation. They are not the original inhabitants of Dominica, but they certainly predate the European settlers. The European explorers named these people the Caribe. Naturally, they prefer the name they call themselves, Kalinago. Bob and I have visited here in past years. I’m intrigued by their lifestyle which makes such good use of plant life for food, remedies, and building materials. They are well known for their baskets, and this is my third time to collect more of their beautiful baskets, which are made from a reed like plant. They condition the reeds in different ways to give color the material. To make black they bury the reeds in a pit where the minerals in the soil darkens the reed. Our friend Bill got this photo of Bob and me trying to decide what to take with us.

Here we are sitting in the shade of the beautiful community where the Kalinago live. Oops! Actually, this is another day we spent together in Deshaies, Guadeloupe! We are with Bill and Maureen from Kalunamoo.

And since I’m adding photos from other days, here is one of my favorites with a number of our sailing friends who gathered for dinner that night.

On several visits to Dominica I’ve had my photo taken in front of a vendor’s stall called “Brenda’s Craft Shop.” This year I got meet Brenda! I bought a finely crocheted wrap skirt to give as a present. I can’t show you because it’s to be a surprise for a dear friend.

I tried my hand at an unfinished embroidery project I brought with me this year. On some days I simply could not line up the needle with the place I needed to insert it because of the rolling waves coming into our anchorage. It was daunting, and I often felt I might become crosss-eyed, but now I am happy to report that this project is finished! At home I hope to try my hand at framing an embroidery myself. This embroidery design is from an English company called Melbury Hill. They have some coordinating designs that go with these bluebells, but for now I need to stick to weaving those two tapestries.

As I write this we are on a mooring in the small archipelago of islands at the bottom of Guadeloupe. The main island is called Terre de Haute, and it has a charming village that entices many French visitors who arrive multiple times a day by ferry from Guadeloupe. There are some wonderful shops and many restaurants.

I must be getting tougher, or perhaps just more determined (desperate?) as I age. I am working on days I could never have worked in previous years. It’s good, and bad, in equal measures. I hope I will be taking a home a number of finished items in April.

Janus

Ready or not, it’s 2024. I romped through the fall like a woman with her hair on fire, and I did manage to complete the loom woven projects I was determined to finish. I never managed to touch a tapestry loom. I’m not one who likes to look back and list all the things I didn’t accomplish, but every year I work hard not to do that. Here are some images of what I did finish! And I am celebrating!

For most of the fall I was in a class with Fran Curran to design a project entirely in linen. While thinking about napkins or curtains, or even just kitchen towels I remembered that I’ve wanted to weave some bread bags for a couple of years. Here was the opportunity, which I wrote about in my last post!

I love using these for my sourdough bread loaves.

Since I wove my project at home rather than at the Weaving Center where Fran’s class took place, I finished before the class was half done. So I started another linen project, which is also in my last post. This is a wonderful design called “Meta Weave” by Lisa Hill, which you can purchase her Etsy site. I don’t know any weavers who don’t love a design that looks like weaving within weaving! Her instructions are for kitchen towels, but I decided to make 6 napkins in sets of two colors each. I used blue that you can see above, before switching to red, then green, and I managed to get a 7th napkin in yellow. I also found that I preferred the underside of the design.

Five yards and seven napkins!

Okay! Enough of that. It’s been a long time since I’ve woven a project so quickly. It was amazing to zip through this project, especially after the drawn out experience of weaving the paper placemats that required dyeing twice and unweaving two placemats after they were cut from the loom in order to get back some of the paper weft in order to dye it! That was almost the limit of my patience, but not the limit of my stubbornness, which may actually know no limits!

Then, in mid-November, a good friend gave me a table loom dressed with a sakiori project, also known as ‘rag’ weave. She gave me the loom because she thought I might be able to shoe-horn it onto Pandora. It’s a special loom. It belonged to the oldest current member (96!) of our state guild, whose father made several of these looms for her mother. Sue, our member, had dressed this particular loom with a loosely sleyed cotton warp which she intended to weave with 1/2″ strips of quilting cotton. The loom came with a large stash of cut cotton strips. I didn’t know how long the warp was, but I didn’t want to just cut it off. In fact, I didn’t want to lose all those cotton strips she had cut either. So I felt incredible time pressure to weave it off. And it was enjoyable, especially after I learned the interesting quirks of this little loom. When the levers are up the shafts are at rest. When I depressed the levers the shafts raised. It’s the opposite of any table loom I’ve ever used, and it took me some time to get used to that. In the long run the warp was enough for 3 runners, each about 20″ long by 10″ wide.

I gave away two of the runners, one to the woman who passed the loom to me, and the other to a friend whom I learned had helped Sue dress the loom and cut all the fabric strips. Sometimes things work out just as they should. I have my small runner aboard Pandora now. And how serendipitous it is that the color of the weft cotton strips goes quite well with our onboard decor. I couldn’t be more pleased.

Then, lo and behold, I had the intense desire to weave another sakiori design with my own fabric. Now it was truly approaching time to gather our family for Christmas and get packed to depart. I found some wonderful Christmas-y fabric at a fabric thrift shop while traveling with a friend to see an exhibition in Vermont (Salley Mavor). I wasn’t sure it would be enough, and fate led me to find it on Etsy. Also, it was a stroke of luck that my husband offered to cut the strips! Three yards of 1/2″ strips was no easy feat.

I loved every minute of the weaving. It flew by like skating on smooth ice.

It also worked well with a few of my Christmas runners. Win! Win!

We had a simple Christmas with our younger son and a local family and some of their adult children. Holidays have certainly morphed in new directions since our kids have grown and grandchildren have joined the family, sadly not nearby. It was suddenly time to take down our few Christmas decorations and get packed for the flight to Antigua where Pandora was waiting. That deadline threw me into thinking about what I’d accomplished in three months of weaving, and a temptation to look at the things I didn’t accomplish.

That’s when I thought of Janus and the new year. He is the Roman god of beginnings, hence his placement as the first month of the year. He is depicted as two-headed, each of his two faces looking the opposite direction. This is my Achilles heel (sorry for analogy, but it fits so well). I want to take stock and see my accomplishments measure up to my aspirations. But since they never do….what weaver ever finishes all the projects she plans?….it’s not necessarily healthy to go down this path.

My younger son uses an app called “Notion” in his start up business. I am now trying to learn it because I think it will change my attitude about taking stock. It’s an app for tracking projects and goals, mostly for businesses, but I think it could help me realize that I get a great deal done every year. I’m struggling with the app a bit, but in the long run I think it’s going to be a positive thing– a wonderful way of keeping track of all my aspirations, my progresses, and my accomplishments. Every year there are projects I lose track of, and can’t find, in my over-stuffed work space. This app will remind me of things I started and eventually forgot. If I can just learn the nuances of this application I think I will be thankful to use it. Fingers crossed.

Meanwhile, it’s the new year, I am now onboard living a very different kind of lifestyle, with scenes like these…

This is the giant mango tree in English Harbour, where people usually meet because it’s such an iconic place to gather.

I have started two knitting projects. The first is a shawl, which typical of me, has already been set aside due to more tempting projects! The yarn is what makes this project a zinger. It is handpainted with long runs of the background color and short spurts of the contrasting colors. The pattern calls for knitting the background color in stockinette, then when you see the contrasting colors approaching the needles, you make a little motif by putting five yarn overs on the next three stitches. On the next row you let the yarn overs drop and take the working yarn to wrap those long stitches, creating a little ‘star’ or ‘butterfly.’ I decided to make an asymmetrical shawl shape with a small Shetland lace border called “iron brand” on one side to continue the asymmetrical effect. I was thoroughly enjoying it until bigger thing stole my attention!

The project that took me away from this shawl was an advent calendar of yarn from Kate Davies Designs in Scotland. She has a yarn called “Milarrochy” that is a single ply, 70% wool, 30% mohair blend. I have used it to make her “Con Alma” vest a couple of years ago. The mohair blooms nicely when wet finished. Well, imagine my excitement when she announced that she’d made up boxes that held 24 small balls of “Milarocchy” for an advent calendar! I could not resist. So fun. The box arrived in early November, and it was hard to wait until December 1, but I did it. Here is a photo of the most exciting day for me. On the last day, the little bundle also held a card with a link to an e-book full of patterns for using this yarn.

Drumroll! I love that last color, a perfect Christmas red.

After a good deal of thought, and a fair amount of arranging the yarns into colorways I might knit, I decided to make a vest using Vivian Hoxbro’s ideas for shadow knitting. I am enjoying the process.

I was quite challenged at first because the only needle I had in the appropriate size was only 24″ long. My idea was to knit sideways, a left side front and back, then a right side front and back which would give me vertical stripes with shadows. That’s why I have the yarns gathered in two sections. The right and left sides of the vest will not match. What a struggle to knit that long run of stitches on a 24″ needle!

I was thrilled to discover not just one but two (!) #3 US circular needles that are 40″ long that I’d already stashed on Pandora earlier in the fall. The knitting is so much easier now. Can you see the shadow effect moving diagonally across the knitting? I am almost done with first left side front/back and am looking forward to starting the 2nd colorway for the right side of the vest.

So, here we all are at the open gate of the new year. Let’s all concentrate on looking forward, shall we? Not only about ourselves and our work, but also everything, from family, to community, to global issues. Let’s make this a banner year in as many ways as possible. That’s my wish for all of us.

A Tour of Textiles in Japan

My trip to Japan in May started in Tokyo and went to the northernmost part of the island, to Aomori and Hirosaki. Over the three weeks of the trip we visited a number of museums that showcased textiles, along with temples and gardens. I’ve already described the hands-on workshops we took during the course of the tour, so now I’d like to focus on the wonderful textiles I saw in museums.

On the first day of our visit we combined seeing the Tokyo National Museum with the Imperial Palace, which are on the same grounds. None of the original castle from the Edo period remains. In fact, where that castle stood is now a traditional Japanese garden, which I enjoyed very much. There was a tale I didn’t fully comprehend about one of the shoguns from the Edo period deciding to have the river re-routed in order to have better views and stronger protection. I struggle to imagine how a river could be re-routed in a time long before modern equipment. Sorry I don’t have the details of this incredible feat. I did try to search online. Hey! If the Egyptians could do it, I’m sure the Japanese could as well.

Of course we all loved the rose gardens with views of Tokyo just beyond the grounds of the Imperial Gardens.

It was the museum that captured our imaginations. The second floor was devoted to textiles.

That is Tom Knisely, center, and other from our group, heading to the museum.

There was plenty of samurai armor on view, and I’m drawn to these wherever I find them. All the cream colored bits (and there is a lot of it, isn’t there?) are silk braids.

How about a closer look?

Here’s another suit of armor done in a mix of colors. It’s hard to imagine all those braids being accomplished before the warrior grew old.

There was this fabric, stunning on its own, embellished with a braid. I love how the tassel at the ends have ‘blossomed’ over time. I’m always overly careful not have the tassels on my braids get disturbed. I think I prefer what has happened here.

Here is another view of this garment showing some hand-painted silk that was braided .

The piece de la resistance in the gallery was this braid on the scabbard of a sword. I have done a similar braid, so seeing this made my day. A touch of the past blending with my small personal history.

And then there were galleries of scrolls and kimono. I find it fascinating that fabric features so prominently in wall hangings that have painted scenes. This is a culture after my own heart. Look at the edge fabrics that frame this scroll.

We visited Sensoji Temple, the oldest Buddhist temple in Tokyo, and I was thrilled when I saw these women. I felt lucky to get their photo! Sometime later our guide told us that it is quite a popular tourist activity, even for Japanese, to rent kimono to wear while walking about the temple grounds. I’m am still glad I saw this.

It rained quite hard while we were here, but it didn’t dampen our awe at seeing this marvelous place.

There was an area where you could get your ‘fortune’ for a fee. After you put coins in one end of a large tube, you shook the tube and pulled out a stick from the other end. It had a number on it, and you then pulled a paper out of the drawer with that number. This the paper with my fortune.

My fortune was called “Lowest Bad Luck.” Yikes! When I read it didn’t seem all that terrible. It basically said that my fortune could only go up from here and better times were coming. Well, I was having a great time that day, so if it was going to get even better I felt I was in for some incredible luck! On the other hand, my friend Kari got a card that just said “Bad Luck,” but the description was truly horrible. It was full of doom and hopelessness. She threw it away immediately. I wanted to burn it!

The temple grounds also housed a shopping area. It was such a pretty place, and out of the rain.

I was intrigued with a shop that sold dog and cat treats that looked like people.

After four days in Tokyo we headed north. Our first stop was Kawaguchi to see the Kubota Museum. Have you heard of Itchiku Kubota? I had not, and now I am so glad that I not only know who he is now, but have also seen his work in person, up close. He lived from 1917 to 2003. He was inspired by some dyeing techniques from the 15th c. and he spent his life trying to recreate them and perfect them.

The museum is located where he lived. It includes views of Mt. Fuji, his serene gardens and a wonderful building he designed to house his numerous kimono series. No photos were allowed of his kimono, but we could enjoy the gardens, the tearoom and shop, and take photographs there.

I thought this might be a joke, but it wasn’t! However, none of us saw any primates!

This was my favorite garden of the whole trip.

Can you see the waterfall to the left?

A few us opted to enjoy the tearoom. Our matcha tea came with some confections (on the right) and the tiniest origami crane I have ever seen. I brought that crane home with me!

And the museum was a treasure. I don’t think I’ll ever see kimono as elaborate, intricate, beautifully designed as the numerous series that Kubota made. He had assistants at every stage of executing these designs, but it was he who figured out the techniques and spent decades perfecting the process. The kimono series represent various things. There is a series of views of Mt. Fuji where the famous mountain is shown in every season. There are two series depicting the universe. Breathtaking. Since I could not photograph them, I bought a book, and I will send you to the website.

Here is an image I took from the website. Surely they won’t mind since they don’t allow photography. Isn’t it striking how the summit of Mt. Fuji is in the band at the back of the neck? The kimono in this series are displayed right next to each other, with each kimono sleeve touching the sleeve of the next in the series.

It was hard to leave this museum. I could not comprehend these pieces fully, no matter how long I stayed or how many times I might visit in the future (unlikely). What a rare opportunity to be in the presence of so much technical skill and artistic vision.

The rest of the day we spent at the Fuji Shibazakura Festival. Shibazakura is Japanese for the spring flowers we call ‘creeping phlox.’ It blooms in profusion in this area with views of Mt. Fuji. We stayed for a couple of hours, marveling at the expanse of creeping phlox and also hoping for a view of Mt. Fuji’s summit. The summit was cloaked in moving clouds and we gambled that at any moment the clouds would clear. It was chilly but we were determined to wait for that perfect moment between cloud cover. Our bus driver was on a schedule so our Japanese guide corralled us back into the coach before we got the long awaited view.

Mt. Fuji with its summit in the clouds

The big thrill came when we arrived at our hotel with plenty of daylight left. Our entire group had rooms with balconies that faced Mt. Fuji. Out on the balcony I could see that the clouds were quickly departing. And then there is was!

Kari took my photo to prove I was there, and I took hers! Sadly, my photo is blurry, but I still have to show you! Daryl Lancaster is on the balcony in the background with her camera while her daughter Briana hams it up for my photo. It’s priceless!

The other exciting activity at this hotel was the hot spring baths. Each room came with two kimono for visiting the baths. No bathing suits allowed, but you could bring your tenugui (small cotton towel) that our Japanese guide had given each of us on our first day together. Women entered the bath holding the tenugui in front for modesty, then used the towel the wrap their hair.

Like typical tourists, we took a lot of photos of food, along with photos of our menus in order to attempt to identify some of the delicacies.

It was perfectly acceptable to go to dinner in your kimono, straight from the baths.

Tom Knisely and Sara Bixler at dinner near Mt. Fuji

Okay, I promise no more food shots, but you must agree, it was an amazing dinner. How many people does it take to plate a 9-course meal for 24 people?

The next morning, off we went for Nagano to visit the Okaya Silk Museum, where there is a collection of reeling machines that span a couple of centuries. Here are some silk worms ready to spin their cocoons.

I don’t feel equipped to describe the changes in the technology of reeling silk, but there is one thing I found quite impressive. No matter how mechanized this process became over the centuries, the use of the little brush that is made from something like a bundle of flax stems, continued to be used. Progress with a bit of low tech material that has remained useful to this process.

In the earliest times of silk reeling you’d find a woman sitting over a hot pot of cocoons. She’d brush up a filament from a number of cocoons and begin reeling around a form. Sometime later there was this. Notice that brush in front of the sink. That’s the little bundle of plant stalks that remains part of the process to this day.

Then there was this. Note multiple brushes left and center.

Now we have many more reeling stations with a whole battery of brushes on the right.

And voila! Welcome Industrialism!

Some reeled skeins on display in front of the machine used to create them.

There was a shop! There were a number things we all wanted to buy, and high on everyone’s list was this lamp. How to get it home? Hmm…

I bought a silk fan, and some interesting soap. In the process of removing the sericin which is a gummy residue on silk, the sericin can be used to make soap. We all bought several bars of ‘silk’ soap.

On our way to Matsumoto Castle, which retains many of its details from 1592 when it was first begun, we had to walk a few blocks since our bus could not navigate the narrow streets. During that walk I passed this window.

I was so tempted to just walk in to this shop filled with temari balls! But I knew that our Japanese guide spent much of each day counting heads, and disppearing from the group would put her in a tailspin. I asked her if we could visit this shop on our back back from Matsumoto Castle, and it took some convincing. Since she agreed we all had a fabulous experience, and I hope we made the shop owner’s day.

It turns our this area is known for temari balls. This is when I learned that each area of Japan celebrates its traditional crafts by having their man-hole covers decorated to display the local heritage. Interesting!

Storm Drain?

While heading north each day, we also headed west to the Sea of Japan coast. I had a geographical awakening when I realized how close we now were to both South and North Korea. It was sobering. This is a picturesque area of mountains with terraced rice fields. The views during our ride were so lush with all the spring greens and newly sprouted rice plants flooded with water from the snow melt coming down the mountains. You can read about this area here. Here is a view of rice paddies. We were told that there are no huge, industrial farms as there are in the US. The rice fields nestle into the spaces between residential properties. This is a view in Yamakoshi Village.

We were headed to a kimono factory in Aoyagi. “Factory” seemed a misnomer to me in this place where everything was done by skilled hands. I have about a million photos, and it would take all of them to describe the many dyeing, stitching, stenciling, resist, painting, shibori, and embroidery techniques that happen here. Here are just a few of the techniques happening all through this workplace.

Stenciling
Stitched Shibori
Hand Painting
Fabrics drying overhead in between processes
Stitched fabric ready for air brushing

Here is the large dye room. Notice the barrel in a dye vat in the center of the photo. We watched that get opened near the end of our stay.

The Dye Room

This man is painstakingly pleating fabric and nailing it to the edge of a barrel. It is like the barrel in the photo above. The fabric inside the barrel will not get dyed, and the fabric on the outside will be dyed with the shibori pleats.

Here one of the dyers is twirling a barrel in a hot dye bath. He constantly flips and twirls the barrel to get an even distribution of dye. Every few minutes he must to go a faucet and fill his rubber gloves with cold water to prevent getting burned.

This barrel is cooling off and will soon be opened.

Opening the barrel, you can see how well the colors were protected inside the barrel.

We were allowed to touch the fabric. Notice the resist design on the edge that was just dyed. Was it stenciled with resist?

The fabric was removed from the barrel and rinsed in cool water.

I’m quite certain this fabric has more processes to go through before it’s ready to become a kimono.

In the showroom were a number of finished kimono. Some of them were the designs we saw in process in the work rooms. A kimono made with this level of handwork costs in the range of $10,000. A one of a kind kimono costs more. Here is fabric similar to what we watched being made.

This was a breathtaking and jaw-dropping experience. I can’t even wrap my head around all the processes that create these kimono.

We visited a small koi farm, and outside, near the koi pools, was this bell. The temptation to ring it was pretty strong. Notice the sign in the lower left of the photo. This briefly gave us pause. What did the bee image mean? Beware of bees? Bee kind? In the long run the need to ring that bell won. Daryl did it, and a flurry of bees emerged. I am not afraid of bees and actually quite like them. They emerged sleepy and not at all aggressive. The bell sounded beautiful–muted and sonorous.

The bell in Yamakoshi Village, near the koi farm

Directly after our visit to Kasuri workshop where we got to weave various ikat dyed wefts (previous post about hands-on workshops), we visited a long established shop that sells salmon products that have been cured in over 100 different ways, called Sennenzake Kikkawa. Most of the items were not meant to be taken out of the country, so there was little for us to buy. The visit included a tasting of locally made sake, and we ejoyed them and bought souvenirs!

Sake Tasting
Salmon, well dried

Many of the workshops we visited had a display of what the older living space would have been for the family working in the traditional craft we were seeing. Perhaps in some cases, the actual historic living space was preserved. I’m not sure which were original and which were reproductions. This was the historic living space at the salmon shop.

The lovely garden outside the living space of the salmon shop

We ended the day with a scenic walk along the shore of the Sea of Japan.

Kari is in the center and Tom is to the right.
How convenient to have easy walkways through the rocky shore

The next few days had workshops that I covered in my previous post. It was a time of rich experiences. I am thrilled that we got to try so many traditional techniques, from weaving with ikat dyed wefts, to weaving with linden tree inner bark, trying rag weaving with hand dyed wefts on modified back strap looms, and dyeing with shibori techniques in indigo vats.

When we left the coast of the Sea of Japan, we took the bullet train from Sendai to Hachinohe. Everyone talks about the bullet trains in Japan, and now I know why. That was the smoothest ride I’ve ever taken! I didn’t know that the trains are connected by magnets. We had two trains connected, and the other train disconnected from ours when it reached the track where it would diverge to a different route. I also didn’t know that what makes the ride so smooth is that the trains rise a little above the tracks due to magnet repulsion. I don’t know enough to say more! We glided at very high speeds!

We were headed to the northernmost area of the main island of Japan, to Hirosaki and Lake Towada. Along some of the drive we followed a stream, and I took a video of the lush surroundings. The video is one minute, and the second half is the best part!

We had a boat ride on Lake Towada which was quite a treat.

A small island on Lake Towada
Our Japanese guide, Suka, on the right, and Nina, the one weaver who brought her husband!

We visited Hirosaki Park which rivaled Lake Towada.

One day in Hirosaki we were on our own for lunch, and four of us found a restaurant where there were some handmade dolls right behind my seat. These were soft sculpture dolls, and while I know the Japanese make beautiful dolls, both in porcelain and in cloth, I have no idea what they call them.

While in this northern area we visited the Hirosaki Kogin Institute. Kogin (hard G) is a type of embroidery that involves straight, long stitches. As I understood the guide, this institute is a cooperative of women who want to keep this tradition going. There was a weaver, but I do not think the dyeing takes place. There were numerous embroiderers as well as women who prepared the embroideries for shipping to various places that had commissioned the pieces.

Kogin embroideries being readied for shipping
Weaving cotton fabric for use in kogin embroidery

Here are some of the beautiful designs.

I was particularly enchanted with the little pin/needle holder on this woman’s apron.

Most of the finished pieces were small, to be added in some way to a larger project at the destination where these embroideries were headed. This finished garment was one of the only large items on display. Wow!

This has been a long post, likely the longest post I’ve ever done. Short on words, long on images. We took a longer bullet train from Shin Aomori Station back to Tokyo. Each of us got a lot handwork done during the smooth ride. I made great progress on my second sashiko project.

On our last days in Tokyo as a group, we visited some exciting places for shopping for beautifully handmade items or tools and fabrics to make our own creations. This is the Cohana store which sells tools for hand sewing. I indulged in quite a few lovely treasures.

Treasure boxes with temari for lid pulls.

We visited Toa Textile World and indulged in quite a few purchases there.

We also got to spend some time in a shop dedicated to Japanese fine craft.

And suddenly our time together was coming to an end. We were all a bit exhausted from how much travel we’d done, how many workshops we’d taken, the visual overload of the fine crafts and beautiful countryside we’d seen. But I was not ready to leave. Luckily Kari and I had an additional three days to see and do some things on our own.

Our final dinner on the 45th floor of Keio Plaza Hotel in Shinjinku Tokyo with impressive views from every table:

Clockwise from bottom left: Kari, Brenda (moi), Briana, and Daryl
Left to right: Joan, her daughter Diane, and Tom
Our two wonderful guides! Suku and Sara. Someone of our group crocheted that pink penguin for Suku, but now I can’t remember who!

If you’ve made it this far I sincerely thank you for letting me share my Japanese journey. With a little luck and a lot of focus I hope to make use of some of the things I learned and experienced on the trip. I know some of my co-travelers have already dressed their looms and are weaving some sakiori projects with rag weft. I need to focus! Bang! Bang!

May in Japan

May is a beautiful time of year in many places, including my home region of New England. This year I chose to step away from home and visit Japan during their glorious mid spring. It was a journey outside of my familiar Western culture into a wondrous world of traditional textiles that are highly valued, into a culture that celebrates its traditions. It was a dazzling time of year to visit Japan!

I can’t imagine how I would tackle a trip like this on my own, so I felt lucky to take a tour led by Sara Bixler of Red Stone Glen. Sara’s well known father, Tom Knisely, joined the tour, and we had an excellent Japanese guide through Opulent Quilt Journeys, who arranged all our destinations and travel. It was the guide’s first time to lead a tour for weavers, and it was her first time to participate in weaving at the workshops she arranged for us. She enjoyed trying her hands at weaving!

Shortly before leaving home I learned that I knew a number of people on the tour, outside of Sara and Tom. My long time weaving friend, Kari, and I were going to travel together and room together on the trip. Then I learned that another old friend, Joan, would be going. What a trill! I haven’t spent time with her since I moved out of New Jersey, more than a decade ago. Also on the trip were Daryl Lancaster and her daughter Briana. While I’ve known Daryl for several decades, I hadn’t seen Briana since she was a small child. Now she’s well into adulthood and a great weaver in her own right. It was a perk to meet Pat White, of MAFA-founding fame, after all these years. We were a great group of 22 weavers who bonded quickly on this trip. There was one husband on the trip, and one daughter who came to accompany her mother.

There was so much to this trip: wonderful opportunities to try both traditional Japanese weaving techniques or materials, and a chance to weave the modern technique called Saori. We saw silk being reeled and processed as well as dyers doing all kinds of techniques, from stenciling and resist applications, to hand painting and shibori techniques. Often all these techniques are combined on one fabric to make a stunning kimono, like this glorious piece.

Since there is so much to cover, I will focus on the workshops we participated in for this post, and I’ll write about the museums, gardens, and temples/shrines in a following post. Everything we did contributed to a once in a lifetime immersion in Japanese textile culture. I’m so glad I made this trip!

Kari and I arrived in Tokyo two days before the tour officially started. We felt we needed that time to acclimate to the time change, a whopping 13 hours ahead of Eastern Daylight Savings time. We arrived at our hotel around 5pm and decided to take a walk to the nearby busy area of Shinjuku Station. It was a step into the iconic culture of busy Tokyo. The station is far larger than Grand Central in NYC, with many shops, fast food joints, and of course, train tracks. As it was approaching dusk the lights of all the computer generated billboards were beginning to glow and the crowds during the evening rush hour were straight out of any images you may have seen of Tokyo crowds. We had never seen so many people in one place ever! They all knew where they were going, so it felt like a choreographed modern dance, with Kari and I being the chink in the cogs. Standing still and taking in the scene, we caused such a ripple in the incredible flow of humanity. Much of the station is underground, like Grand Central, and we were soon lost. We asked a number of times how to get back to the street and got conflicting directions. Finally we asked a woman at a cosmetic counter in a large department store, and she actually left her counter to take us to the nearest stairway to the street level. My big regret from this experience is that I was too awestruck to get any photos of this typical, but nonetheless amazing, view of Tokyo at rush hour. Somehow, I thought to take a couple of photos of the food counters in one department store in the station.

A food stall in a department store in Shinjuku Station, Tokyo

Saori No Mori
The first day of our tour we visited the Imperial Gardens and the National Museum. More on that in the future! The second day of the tour we visited the Saori workshop in Tokyo. This is not the founding Saori workshop, which is in Osaka and still run by the founder’s family, but this Saori location was certainly a large space with lots of looms and yarns. Here is Tom showing his finished piece in front of that wonderful wall of yarn (photo taken by Sara).

At all the workshops we did during the tour, we had to divide into two groups. Here is Group I with their finished pieces. My good friend Kari is in the back row wearing red. Can you find Daryl and Briana?…and Sara?

Group One’s finished work at the Saori Workshop

And here is Group II with their pieces. I’m in the back row, wearing an orange shirt. My good friend Joan is in the front row, 2nd from the left. Pat White is in the front row, on the right.

Group II holding their finished Saori samples

This was a perfect first workshop. As you know, there are no rules to Saori weaving, just experiment and express yourself. It was a relaxing day. Half of us went to lunch while the other half wove. In the choatic streets of Tokyo we all wondered if we’d find our way back to Saori! No one got lost!

We soon began our trek north to very top of the main island of Japan. Along the way we saw both coasts of the Pacific Ocean and the Sea of Japan. I got a real sense of how close Japan is to both North and South Korea across the Sea of Japan.

Kasuri Weaving Workshop and Ojiya Chimjimi fabric:
This was the day I’d looked forward to since I first got the agenda for our trip. I have a wall hanging in my stairwell that must be close to 30 years old that is from Kasuri Dyeworks. I bought it at a weaving conference those many years ago, and I still love it. To get to visit this place was high on my list.

Ojiya chijimi is a fiber made made from ramie, a bast fiber in the nettle family which is perennial in this region. The process of making a spin-able fiber out of the ramie is very similar to how flax is prepared for spinning into linen. The fibers of ramie are naturally bleached in sunlight on snow covered fields, and this process has been practiced in this part of Japan (the Ojiya region of Niigata Prefecture) for at least four centuries. Older versions of making fiber from different bast plants has existed in this area for a thousand years. Traditionally there was no cotton growing in Japan, and no sheep, so spinning and weaving involved bast fibers and silk.

This display in the museum area of the workshop shows a woman weaving the bast fabric on a traditional loom that features backstrap weaving on a stationary loom. There is a braided cord leading from the curved bar at the back of the loom to the weaver’s foot. The cord has a loop in the end that encircles the weaver’s foot. She changes the shed by pulling her foot back or extending her foot forward. She controls the tension by the backstrap around her hips which is attached to the cloth beam. In the background is a poster of ramie cloth being bleached in a snowy field. (Sorry about the reflection on the glass display!)

Here is an example of weft ikat wound on a reel. The dyes have been carefully placed to create an image when woven. It’s mind boggling to me to imagine trying to do this.

The workshop space where we got to weave a small image in weft ikat is bright with views of the surrounding hills, terraced with early spring rice sprouting in the patties. The space was serene. Outside this workshop area was a display of the centuries of ramie weaving and ikat techniques.

The Ojiya Workshop for weaving weft ikat.

We had several choices of ikat designs to weave, and we could only choose one! It was a hard decision for each of us. The choices were a lady bug, four paw prints, hearts, a swimming koi, and a maneki-necko (the waving cats of good fortune often seen in restaurants).

Tom is weaving a weft ikat lady bug. There is a sample for him to refer to on the table to his right.
My new friend Peggy is weaving a maneki-necko. That’s the one I chose to weave also.

Some of the looms were set up with complex projects that the weavers on staff were working on. Here is a pattern of butterflies done entirely in weft ikat.

Weft Ikat bundles that depict what they will create when woven in the fabric on the right.

Seeing these weft bundles and the samples they wove made me ask if the weft bundles for our little samples were available for sale. They were! I asked for six sets of the koi pattern, and now I have it. I made a note that the warp was ramie set 10 cm wide on the loom (4 inches) and the warp sett was about 18 epi (71 warp threads in 10 cm width). I’ve now got that info here as well as in my notes. I don’t have ramie for warp, but I have plenty of linen. It will have to do. The photo below shows my woven Maneki-necko and the paper copy template for the six koi weft bundles I purchased.

Each workshop we took got more and more exciting. I cannot imagine a better way of immersing myself in the textiles of any culture than being able to participate as well as learn the history of how and why these techniques were developed.

Shinaori
This was my first exposure to this handwoven fabric. It is made entirely from the inner bark of the shina tree, or Japanese linden. Is that the same as the linden trees here in the US? My quick search leads me to say no. There are several types of linden trees. We saw a display on how these fibers are prepared for spinning and weaving. The inner bark is quite a thick section that must first get shaved down, perhaps similar to the way split oak baskets are prepared, but of course, going finer and finer until you have fine fibers like flax or ramie to spin. The sequence of preparation in this photo starts on the right and moves left.

We enjoyed another bright workshop space with views of the neighboring rice fields. It was a perfect day. At the front the room was a display of a traditional living space for those who worked weaving shinaori in the past. This turned out to be a common display in many of the places we visited. The current workshop might be quite modern, but there was often a preserved area that depicted how past generations of weavers would have lived and worked.

I enjoyed this workshop the most of the various techniques we tried. The linden fibers felt wonderful–sturdy and yet pliable. I loved the resulting fabric with its many subtle color changes. Several of us asked if we could purchase this yarn, and we were sad to learn that it was not for sale. It was a joy to weave!

Busy weavers working with shina fiber, or linden tree fiber.

There were items for sale at most of the workshops we attended. I was so smitten with this fabric I wanted to buy many things–most of all the fiber itself.

I treated myself to a hat! I’ll be wearing the most unusual hat of anyone in the Caribbean next winter, as well as here during the New England summer. Lucky me!

I also happened to do a search on Habu Textiles’ site for this fiber, and they have it. I was shocked to learn that it costs a dollar per yard. Hmmm… I think the prices of the finished goods in the shop were quite reasonable. I couldn’t afford to weave any of them myself at $1/yd. I’m so glad I indulged, and I love my woven sample.

Again, we had to weave in two separate groups. While one group was weaving the other group shopped and walked around the village, which seemed quite remote. I have since learned that there are only a handful of villages that continue this tradition of weaving with this fiber. There was interesting information here. Our workshop was in Sekigawa, one of only four remote mountain villages that continue this tradition. Outside the workshop some of us found a small shrine in the village. It was a memorable experience to be in such a remote area of Japan.

Shrine in the village of Sekigawa, where shinaori fabric is woven.

The next day we took the bullet train from Sendai to Hachinohe, where we visited Lake Towada and Hirosaki, at the northernmost area of the main island of Japan.

Nanbu Sakiori no Sato
Sakiori is a form of rag weaving, and this Japanese tradition shows the height of what can be done with rags as weft.

Sakiori weaving at Takumi Studio, Hirosaki

The looms here were also partly backstrap in nature. There were two shafts on these looms, and the curved beam at the back of the loom controlled the movement of those shafts through the use of the braided cord that leads from the curved beam to a loop the weaver puts around her foot. As you can see, it is a large studio. Still, we broke into two groups for weaving. This was probably due to the number of staff available to guide us.

Here you can see a woman working on her own project. You can see the braided cord that goes around her foot, and you can see the backstrap she is wearing. The warp is striped and the woven fabric has subtle coloration due to the printed fabric strips used for weft.

Every loom had different warp on it, so it was fun to see what each of us got as an end result. We also had baskets full of fabric strips to choose from. There was a man who seemed to be in charge of the whole operation. He stood next to the woman who was traveling with her mother and was not a weaver herself. There was a bit of a learning curve to using these backstrap looms, so it was a hurdle for the daughter. I happened to be sitting next to her as the enthusiastic man would yell to her, “Tension!! Bang! Bang!” He sounded quite aggressive or maybe even angry as he yelled at her, but I’m certain he was trying to encourage her. It was frightful and funny at the same time. Many of us will remember this for a long time.
“Tension! Bang! Bang!

I was so busy weaving I did not get enough photos! –and how I regret not getting a photo of Bang, Bang! man. This photo was taken with Sara’s phone, of the whole group at the end of our Sakiori weaving session.

Sara, Joan, and Daryl in the front. Kari (in the red coat) is behind Sara, and I am to the left of Kari. It was a wonderful day for weaving!

Shibori Indigo Dyeing:
Our last participatory workshop took place in Hirosaki at the top of the mainland island. Here is the workshop entrance from the busy street in the center of town.

This place is well known and popular. The whole time we were there, whether shopping or dyeing, the shop was full of Japanese customers.

There was a display of the items used in making the dye and using the dye. Here is one of the large dye vats not in use. To the left of the dye vat are some dried indigo leaves. It is in the showroom.

Also in the showroom is a large mortar and pestle that was used to grind the indigo cakes.

This is where the fun takes place. We were each given an apron to wear and waterproof gloves. The workers were wearing such creative aprons. This makes me think about what I’d like to do with my indigo vat at home. Indigo dyed aprons might end up as part of future gift giving.

We had a few options on how we wanted to dye our scarves. I chose the technique I’ve always called sand dollars, but these dyers called it fireworks. In the past I’ve always used a chopstick or bamboo skewer to make a point in the fabric and then wrap a piece of seine twine around the skewer a number times. I then remove the skewer and use it to make another sand dollar in a different area of the fabric. In this technique we simply took our wet fabric and twisted a section with our fingers. It held in place as we did another section until we had as many twisted areas as we wanted. Then we ‘scrunched’ the whole fabric together and placed it in a wire cage. Three of us did this together and shared the wire cage.

Wet cotton scarves twisted and scrunched, then placed in a wire cage, ready for the indigo vat.

Each vat had a heavy wooden cover which was removed. The indigo was at room temperature.

While we held our pieces in the vat we tried not to move which would introduce oxygen into the vat. The cages were dipped three times, for 2 minutes each dip.

Once out of the vat, we watched the magic of our pieces turning bluer and bluer as we waved them in the air.

Then came the rinsing party at a clever set up with multiple sinks and drainage.

The lightweight cotton fabric dried quickly on a line in the studio. We shopped while our scarves dried. I bought a scarf and an indigo dyed skein of traditional cotton used in sashiko embroidery.

The traditional noren (curtain) at the entrance to the building.

Each of these experiences is a treasure to me. The ability to weave some small item that is a part of Japanese history, and the ability to learn the origin and uses of these traditional works, has been far beyond what I ever expected. Most of my learning has come from books or from taking a class with someone else who has learned from a primary source.

One cultural tradition from this trip that I hold dear is the act of bowing, and the way all the workers we visited came outside to bow and wave goodbye to us as we left their presence. It even happened at large hotels. The staff would come stand beside our bus and bow and wave to us as we headed off into our future. Eventually these thoughtful goodbyes brought tears to my eyes. Wouldn’t life be sweeter if we all bowed to each other in salute? This particular incident happened at the Sakiori workshop. I remember these weavers with affection, along with everyone who crossed my path on this journey.

Now that I’ve been exposed to an entirely different culture and learned a few things from primary sources, I don’t want to stop. There are so many places to see, so many techniques to learn from all over the world. In my next post I’ll focus on images of the country and the museums and shrines we visited.

Views of the New Venue

Like many people, my work space is my living space onboard. I’ve posted plenty of photos over the years of projects underway in the main saloon or cockpit of Pandora when she herself is not underway! I cannot work when we are sailing, only when we are anchored or at a dock.

Here’s a look at how I manage my projects onboard. This is where most of my supplies are stored. This 3-shelf cabinet extends back further than I can illustrate in a photo. This year it is holding three knitting projects–the hot water bottle cover and two sweaters– my little Nano 2 e-spinner plus merino/silk fiber to spin, a rather large supply of tapestry yarn for weaving as well as another pile linen yarns for experimenting on a new tapestry design, and various tools. I have two copper pipe frame looms onboard, and they are stored in the hanging locker that holds Bob’s clothes. They couldn’t possible fit in my hanging locker, and luckily Bob is a very good sport about my need for equipment and stash!

On the bottom right of this photo there is a folded maple contraption that is my new tapestry stand! I have great expectations that this will make weaving onboard more comfortable. There will photos in the future.

Here are two little gems that hold tools. The first is a wonderful woven envelope by Lucienne Coifman (of rep weave fame), who is a member of my weaving guild. I have a number of small items from her that she makes from samples. Her hand finishing is exquisite.

There is a embroidered loop for the button similar to the loops that hold the scissors in the next photo. Lucienne’s finishing work is equal to her fine weaving.

Then I have this small tin full of handy tools.

This is the best small tool kit I’ve ever owned. It even has a ridiculously tiny pair of scissors. Can you see them? On the upper right of the tin, with pink handles. You can see that there is a tape measure, a needle gauge and various needles, along with a small crochet hook for picking up dropped stitches (although I never pick up stitches that way). What you can’t see are various stitch markers.

Having extra knitting needles onboard along with tools is worth far more than their tiny weight and size. Ellen, who started the knitting group, has given me a little envelope of dental floss threaders which will get added to this tin.

We’ve also had a change in venue for two days last week, which merits showing. Life onboard can get pretty small. I’ve always called it “Living small, with a big view.” Back in November when all of the sailboats that rallied together arrived in English Harbour, the national parks administration here threw a celebratory dinner to commemorate the arrival of so many sailboats. You can see some great photos of this on Bob’s blog. At that event the Minister of Tourism gave Bob the gift of a two-night stay at the historic Copper and Lumber Inn that is part of Nelson’s Dockyard. It’s a place where the Tot Club meets weekly, and this is a photo I took when Bob invited the fleet of our boats to be guests at a tot.

Tots take place in the courtyard of the Inn. I have only been up on the balcony once, last year, to get a similar photo before the tot ceremony began. This year it was a thrill to actually get to stay in this beautiful, historic spot.

There were three large double windows, which had stunning views. In the previous photo the drapes are drawn because the light completely washed out the interior. But of course the views were the best part!

Copper and Lumber is particularly beautiful at night. Above the entrance are the three windows of our room.

And back on Pandora, we have some new views this year. I brought one Christmas ornament from home since I wasn’t ready to give up the holiday when we came back here.

We also found orchids for sale at the local market! We could not resist getting one since we left our little family of phalaenopses and a paphiopedilum at home in the care of Melody and Chris.

I’ll close with a video Bob took of how my little Nano 2 spins. I am enjoying it, and I’m using the time to think about how to proceed with the tapestry experiment I want to try. Soon.

Life onboard is well underway this year. I hope it will be productive.

Summer of Weaving

Through all of July I was focused on weaving. What an extraordinary time it was! After a winter of missing weaving and all my weaving friends, I signed up for everything that crossed my path on the moments when I could be online in tropical ports. First I went to Convergence in Knoxville, Tennessee. My friend Kari and I went together by car, doing a fun bit of sightseeing along the way. We traveled via Skyline Drive and the Blue Ridge Parkway, stopping to enjoy the views along the way. We spent a day at Monticello. It was a hot one. We would have explored more if only it had been a few degrees cooler. We had some adventures along the way, such as when we were stuck on Skyline Parkway with an overheated radiator. It took about four hours to get help from AAA and get some coolant added to the engine, but during that time we met a lot of travelers who stopped to talk and offer us water and food while we waited. The world is a much friendlier place than shown on the news. But you knew that, didn’t you?

Harpers Ferry
Shenandoah National Park

We left from the Baltimore area and arrived in Knoxville four days later! Hello Convergence!

I registered for three classes–beginning sprang, a lecture on Frieda Hansen by Robbie LaFleur, and a ‘make and take’ Dorset button project with Denise Kovnat. My publisher had a booth in the vendor hall so I was asked to give a short talk there.

Although my talk was not well attended, all the copies of Archie’s book had sold by Monday morning! And the talk gave me excellent practice for an upcoming short talk and chopstick loom workshop I’ll give in early September. All good.

Here Susan Wilson (author of Weaving Crackle and More) and I are petting the Schiffer Stork–an interesting mascot since publishing a book is a bit like giving birth. The gestation period for the Archie Brennan book was more than 12 years.

The sprang class sent me down a rabbit hole I did not expect to go. I just wanted to understand it as an historical artifact and technique. Now I’d like to make things, which will involve learning and practicing–I’m sure a lot of practicing. Carol James makes such lovely clothing in this technique. In September I will start a six-week online course with her in beginning sprang. Sprang rabbit hole, here I come!

Her work in the juried show was so delicate and drape-y and elegant!

She also had work in the yardage show in which she wove the entire alphabet in sprang. It was hard to see, but here is her touchable sample.

The lecture and slide presentation that Robbie LaFleur gave on Frieda Hansen gave me more intriguing ideas to pursue! We had three hours to learn about Frieda and see many images of her tapestries, which are unique for leaving so much warp unwoven. Excuse those bright white dots. They must be a reflection from the screen.

Robbie LaFleur has done quite a bit experimenting with this technique. I thought each woven shape must have been soumaked to hold it in place, but no! Wool warp and wool weft are just clinging to each other in their inherently wooly way. Seeing actual tapestries done in this technique showed how beautifully supple the fabric can be.

Knoxville is a charming city, part of a larger area that includes Ashville, NC, and Gatlinburg, TN, that have many galleries focused on fine craft and art. Walking to Market Square was easy from the conference hotel, and there was much to see! The exhibits that were related to Convergence were “Small Expressions,” hosted by HGA; “Tiny but Mighty,” hosted by American Tapestry Alliance; “Complexities,” hosted by Complex Weavers; and a lovely show works from members of the seven weaving guilds throughout Tennessee. Kari and I spent a wonderful day touring these exhibits. I have loads of photos, but I bet you’ll see a lot of these in the upcoming issue of “Shuttle, Spindle and Dyepot.” I can’t resist a photo of Kari and me having a cool adult beverage on a very hot Knoxville afternoon!

I knew that Scottish tapestry weaver Fiona Hutchison was at Convergence, but I never bumped into her during the conference. In March I had entered a lottery to take a workshop with her just three days after Convergence ended–in Massachusetts. It was a hurdle to drive home–not to Baltimore where my friend and I started our journey–but to Connecticut! I had only 36 hours to unpack, do laundry, and gather all my materials before heading out for a 3-day workshop with Fiona at Rolling Ridge Conference Center in North Andover.

Here is our group of twelve lucky participants. Fiona is in the second row, second from the right.

Fiona’s work is so interesting! It was a challenging and inspiring three days making samples of just a few of her many techniques to bring tapestry off the grid and create such interesting fabrics.

Here are some of Fiona’s woven samples of techniques. Here she has taken one warp and woven separate small sections of differing lengths and differing numbers of warp threads. She has left the linen weft ends exposed for a textural effect. Off the loom she pulls the warps to create all these small undulations.

This is my sample of what the weaving looks like before being cut from the loom and manipulated into undulations.

Here are a number of different techniques woven by Fiona, displayed together for us to see.

Twisted warps and supplemental warps make this very interesting sample.

At various points during the day we had time to explore the grounds. We all loved the views of the reservoir.

The Center used to be a Methodist retreat center (perhaps it still is), and there is a chapel at the water’s edge. The workshop was a magical three days of hard work and terrific inspiration, with good food and a picturesque location thrown in for good measure.

Back at home, exhausted from so much artistic exposure, I had only a few days to get ready for my own class on beginning tapestry. I had eight students who stuck with me on the roller coaster ride to learn some fiddly techniques that I call a ” tapestry weaver’s toolkit.” We focused on opposing sheds, making lots of small shapes and adjusting the tension at those little selvedges, then headed into angles, curves, and circles. The students worked hard to get all that info in three long days. On the last day we had a tour of the historic mill where Hartford Artisans has class space full of light and beautiful views out the huge mill windows in Manchester. It’s a room full of floor looms with a great view!

As I’ve been writing this I have received an update from Robbie Lafleur about our Frida Hansen class. She calls it ‘Borders and Edges.’ I’m off to read that and learn more. It’s been a whirlwind, especially during July, but I’m living the experiences I dreamed about last winter!

Sunny St. Augustine

We spent a lovely day ashore in St. Augustine yesterday.  It was sunny, there were blue skies, and the temperature was in the 70s!  Finally!  This is why we headed south!

The Main Square on King St.

The oldest church in St. Augustine.

Flagler College

It was warm enough for an al fresco lunch at a Cuban restaurant!

Christmas in the main square.  Yes, those are poinsettias planted outside!

…and the highlight for me was getting this shot from the fort of Castillo de San Marcos which I think might make a lovely companion tapestry to my “Terrace View from Skouros.”

We ended the day with dinner at Bistro de Leon as planned.  Chef Jean Stephane Poinard’s menu was as delicious as we expected, and this years’ Beajolais Nouveau is quite good!

Day 78, November 27: St. Augustine, Florida

Ending the trip with a Bang!

My last few days in Maine will be spent riding out what remains of hurricane Irene when she hits these shores.  Hopefully she will be spent by the time she arrives, but everyone has to be prepared for the worst!

We are in a small island harbor called Pulpit Rock in Penobscot Bay. There is a big rock formation at the mouth of this natural harbor that does look a bit like a pulpit.  More than looking like a podium this rock is famous for having a 200+ year old osprey nest at the pinnacle of the pulpit.

Our preparations for the storm are almost complete.  We have two anchors out to keep us from swinging when the winds increase, all the sails are furled and lashed down, loose items have all been stored below.  The larder is well stocked so I intend to cook some comfort food today, perhaps an egg/veggie/cheese timbale, onion soup, and warm homemade chocolate pudding!

Chocolate Pudding from Cook's Illustrated

Thank heave there is a good internet signal because I got the chocolate pudding recipe from this month’s Cook’s Illustrated!

 

 

Also on my agenda after we have finished our storm preparations, is watching a couple of good spinning DVDs I have on board while doing some spinning! I have Margaret Stove’s “Spinning for Lace” and Judith McKenzie’s “A Spinner’s Toolbox,” both from Interweave Press!

Handpainted cotton roving "Phoenix Garden"

And in my large bin of toys I have some handpainted cotton roving from Girl Meets Spindle in a colorway called “Phoenix Garden.”  Now doesn’t this sound like a good plan for riding out a tropical storm?

So I’m hoping that wherever you are you are safe and dry, and doing something fibery on this stormy weekend.