ArgoKnot

Author name: ozweaver

A Day of Textiles and Materials in the Açores

Late last week we sailed to São Jorge. It was a short sail, only 20 nm, but I did not do well. It’s been a long time since I’ve sailed anywhere and clearly I’ve lost my ‘sea legs.’ In another day or two we will sail to São Miguel, and that will be 150 nm, and will take about 20 hours. I am not looking forward to that. What I’d like to do is take something that would keep me asleep for the entire trip. Wishful thinking.

In Horta there was a fabric/knitting/embroidery shop called Retrosaria where I bought some cotton yarn for a vest pattern I got from Bare Naked Wools. After making a small knitted sample I realized that pattern really needs the softness and slight halo of wool. Oh well. The shop was small and did not have any fabrics that tempted me, but oh! The yarns! I’ve now learned that the Portuguese yarn company, Rosarios, sources all their wool and processes it all in Portugal. The wools are from Portuguese merino sheep and a few other breeds, all raised in Portugal. The combing, spinning, and dyeing is also done in Portugal, using eco-friendly processes. I think I bought a color card for this yarn about a decade ago in a little yarn shop in Coimbra. I regretted not buying any yarn that day. Now I will rectify that mistake!

Here is a quote from the Rosarios website:  We like to create value, which is why we look to nature as an example and inspiration, and we focus on natural or naturally-derived fibers as a path towards greater sustainability. We like to create yarns because we believe that knitting, crochet and embroidery makes people happier. And we have been doing what we love since 1979. You can read about their history here.

The wall of sewing and embroidery threads!

I wanted to buy wool to make a vest pattern by Bare Naked Wools called Black Oak Vest. Sadly, Retrosaria did not have enough of any of the wool colors I liked. I could have made it in black or in a medium mauve, but these are not colors that excite me-or look good on me. I bought a medium gray cotton. After making a test swatch of the lace pattern I decided that this pattern needs wool yarn. The cotton was the right gauge, but it didn’t look the way I wanted it to look. All in all, I was sad not to get some Portuguese wool.

There are numberous Rosarios shops throughout the Açores, and I passed one yesterday on our drive around São Jorge. It was a weaving shop that also sold yarn. They are only open Monday-Friday, and yesterday was Saturday. There were woven items on display as well as several looms with works in progress. The reflections on the glass kept me from getting any photos of the temptations inside. There are several Rosarios shops on the island of São Miguel, so I know I’ll have another chance to buy some Portuguese wool to make that vest!

As luck would have it, I did meet a weaver yesterday! Her family has a coffee plantation in Faja dos Nimes (faja, pronounced ‘fazhah, is Portuguese for a flattened area that was created by lava flow. São Jorge is known for these volcanic flattened areas), and they have a small coffee plantation where they get about 400 kilos per year. They roast the beans and serve coffee at their Cafe Nunes (pronounced Nooneesh. They take visitors to see their coffee plants, right behind their house in terraced gardens. It’s small but they have the distinction of having the only coffee plantation in the Açores, and possibly in Europe (this may be old information now).

When we arrived I feared the only way up to the cafe was through this garden, climbing two ladders! It was a bit daunting. But down the street a short way was a driveway up to the cafe. Whew! The cafe was on the ground floor, and the weaving studio “De Artesanato” was upstairs. To the left, mostly outside the photo, is the family home. The coffee is growing behind these buildings, on terraces.

The mother of the family, about my age, is the weaver. She has a weaving studio, separate from the house and from the cafe, where she has four looms and an interesting spinning wheel. I think her name is Maria. Have you ever seen a spinning wheel like this? I could not ask Maria about it because she spoke no English. Her adult daughter who helps with the plantation and serves people in the cafe, was busy, and I know her mother relies on her to translate. Here is the wheel.

It’s not a great photo, but hopefully you can see that it is a parlor wheel, yet has a spindle rather than a bobbin. I’m guessing that you sit at the wheel and spin doing long draw, then wind on from the point, like a charka or a great wheel. She works with cotton, so maybe she spins some of it? I managed to tell her that I also spin, but I could not navigate that I spin on a different type of wheel.

Maria mostly does a type of weaving called “weft loop.” Many of you who are my age will remember bedspreads made of this type of weaving. Maria makes those bedspreads, as well as runners, in this technique. Our friend Linda, who lives on this island has bought a number of Maria’s weft loop designs. Linda has a bedspread as well as this runner.

I bought a simpler woven runner as well as this blue and white placemat. I only bought one placemat to use as a center on our table on Pandora. I hope you can see the ‘turkey track’ design between the larger blue stripes. I love it!

The weft loop runner is quite long, with the loop design at both ends of the runner. I think I will turn it into a long bolster pillow for our bed at home, which has a machine woven coverlet made at the American Textile Museum when they were still in operation. I think the runner is as wide as our bed.

This is Maria’s largest loom that requires two weavers and has two sets of treadles. The center of this project is solid wool loops with the large borders woven in plain weave. The wool loops designs are all hand manipulated since this loom has only two shafts that are counter balance.

This is a photograph of an image of Maria and the 2nd weaver using the loom together. Slow work
for sure! What I found puzzling about all of Maria’s looms is how high the warp beam sits above the shafts and the reed. I think they have to push the beater back in order to throw the weft shuttle.

During the visit to the coffee growing area behind the house, Bob got this photo of Peter (as in the current Peter of Peter’s Sport Cafe in Horta-what a surprise to see him here and to have him recognize us) and me looking at the coffee plants. Maria, the weaver is on the left in this photo. It’s the only photo we have of her.

The rest of our day included a drive to the northern most point on the island where there is a lighthouse no longer in operation as well as a whale lookout, also no longer in operation. The way the lookout worked was that a spotter stood up there watching for whales, and when he saw one he would set off a firework that could be seen from the port. I’m not sure how he indicated the location of the whale. Maybe I’ll learn that before I write the next post. Too bad this photo does not show how long and steep the path to this lookout is, and how high it is.

The drive out to the whale lookout was a long, straight dirt road that passed through corn fields and cow pastures. There were fields where the hay had been harvested, and the many bales were stacked in the fields.

On our way back to the harbor in Zelas (pronounced Zehlash), we passed the Forest Reserve which we knew was not to be missed! I’ll just post a few images of that magical place.

Tree ferns, the oldest of plants, growing with hydrangea in this forest.

There was a small chapel in this forest.

….and oddly, a large stone laundry. I have no idea how old this laundry is.

At least there is a beautiful tile depiction of how this laundry was used.

To come back to knitting with the cotton yarn I had set aside, as luck would have it I saw a tempting pattern in an email from an Australian dyer. She offers patterns to go with her locally sourced Australian yarns that she dyes. This is also a vest pattern, or a simple top to be worn on its own, designed by Elenor Mortensen. It’s called “Eowyn Tee.”

Amazingly, the yarn specified is the same gauge as my Portuguese yarn, and the same color. This was too good to be true, so I immediately cast on and am now almost ready to put the sleeve stitches on a holder and continue with the body. The top down shaping is unique and was fun to do! And didn’t I find a cute yarn holder when I bought this yarn.

We leave for São Miguel today, where I will spend a week before heading to Scotland. I know there will be yarn purchases during my time in Scotland, but I’m glad I discovered ecologically produced Portuguese yarn while I was here. There is a Rosarios shop in São Miguel, so I am not yet finished looking at yarn in the Açores.

The Azores: Faial and Pico

Tomorrow we may sail to São Jorge, an island near Faial. I’ve been in Azores for more than two weeks, on the islands and Faial and Pico. Here’s a little photo journal of what I’ve seen on these two islands.

Flowers! The Azores are famous for having miles and miles of hydrangeas. They were introduced here centuries ago and have thrived. You can drive for miles with lace caps and mopheads lining the roads in all the shades of hydrangea–pinks, deep purples, a mix of pink/blue purples, and of course, blue. We were a little early for the full show, but you can see how many buds are on the verge of opening.

This is a wall of deep blue morning glories on Pico, with my friend Lynn standing in awe of the display. She lives here part of every year and told me that people are now encouraged not to plant morning glories. They do appear to be rather invasive, but what a breathtaking view.

And then there are fields and fields of lantana, nasturtium, and purple clover. These have been the source of our bouquets onboard.

June is a month of festivals throughout the islands. We got to participate in one on Faial and one in a small village on Pico near our friends’ house. The first festival we saw took place in Horta and was called “Maravilho,” which means “wonder.” The word is a combination of the word for sea (mar) and the word for island (ilhos); together they create the word “wonder.” It was a grass roots kind of festival with people selling handmade wares and food, and there were free rides on homemade creations like a bathtub swing, a stuffed chair swing, and best of all (!), a bamboo contraption that was a kind of rudimentary whirl-a-gig!

One of the vendors was screen printing tote bags from his small booth. I bought this one fresh off the press.

They spent a good deal of time balancing the size of the kids on this homemade whirl-a-gig, otherwise the ride would not twirl. Note the smallest child is in a bucket!

A week later we went to a festival on Pico. People brought food to share, and there was music planned but it was too windy to play Azorean guitars which are quite fragile instruments. They are shaped a bit like a mandolin and have 12 strings, although this one appears to have 8.

Instead they played recorded folk music and performed some of their folk dances, which include a caller to guide the dance. The wind was howling. Notice how lightly dressed the women are. I was wearing long sleeves, long pants, and a sweater. No was chilled except me!

While we were visiting Pico another festival took place on Faial, in Horta. It may have been Semana do Mar, Sea Week. The fish decorations were in the air, on the ground, and on walls. The day before we left for Pico I watched a crew of men drive a cherry picker down the road to get all these decorations up on the power lines.

Did you know that Portugal is paved in mosaic walkways? I learned this when we visited mainland Portugal about a decade ago. I did not know I’d find more of them in the Azores. It’s mesmerizing to walk the streets seeing so many different designs. Here are a few. Even the simplest designs are a delight to see.

My favorite!

Sometimes the designs are white on black, sometimes black on white.

There is so much to celebrate here: food, art, fine craft, museums, boats in the harbor, including whaling boats that are no longer used for whaling but get launched often for rowing and sailing practice. We will not be able to take advantage of everything here before we leave for the next island, São Jorge, probably tomorrow.

Unusual Craft in the Azores, and Quite a Hunt to Find Them!

It’s be one week since I arrived in Horta, on the island of Faial in the Azores. I landed at the airport on Sao Miguel, after quite a few mishaps. If something—anything!—could go wrong on my journey, it did! But since I arrived all those mishaps have faded into memory, except the strange allergy or virus that came over me as I walked down the stairs of the plane onto the tarmac in Sao Miguel.

Although I had the longest trip ever to JFK airport (with a driver who made me quite uncomfortable for the duration of our 4 hour drive together) my flight was hugely delayed so my late arrival at the airport did not cause a problem. My luggage stayed in NY as I traveled to the Azores, but it also arrived the next day, in spite of the fact that SATA airlines does not fly JFK-Ponta Delgada every day. I lost my purse for a short time in the Ponta Delgada airport (Sao Miguel) and that was truly a panic for me, since it contained my passport, and all my important ‘cards.’ The cleaning lady had taken it and hung it on her cleaning cart. Luckily she was still nearby when I came back. What a stroke of luck for me!

For months before I traveled here I looked into what handwork is done on these islands. I worked myself into quite a frenzy of anticipation to see embroidery, lace, weaving, and basketry. Right before I left I learned that there is a technique used here for creating tiny gems with fish scales. The fish scales are collected, sometimes tinted with dyes, often cut to shapes, and sewn together to create mostly floral arrangements. Since I belong to a group of women who make Sailors’ Valentines, led by quite an expert in that field, Sandi Blanda, I thought they might be interested in knowing more about this technique along with me.

I had no idea it would be so hard to find examples of this work! I found an artists’ co-op (I think that’s what it is) outside of Horta, called Centre de Artesanato. We rented a car late last week, checking the hours the center would be open and the route on Google Maps, only to find the place closed. We arrived in the morning, then toured the island for a few hours before going back in the afternoon, since many shops observe a midday siesta here. No luck. The place is beautiful, and I was sad that I could not get in to see the wares.

We will try again this week. I won’t be deterred. Meanwhile, I’ve asked everyone who might help me about finding some of the handwork done on this island. Everyone knows of it, but not where to find it. It’s quite a mystery. Perhaps people make these things for their own satisfaction, which I completely understand since I do the same. But I am determined to see these works, hopefully understand a bit about how these works are made, and perhaps take something home with me! On the Centro de Artesanato website I found one fish scale artist who lives right outside Horta. This is the photo she put on the website; she is Zelia Freitas.

The fish scales appear to be sewn together with a fine silver thread, and some of the petals may have been dyed, or perhaps the fish itself had these delicately tinted scales. Zelia has offered for us to visit her home studio tomorrow afternoon.

Yesterday Bob and I found a small market on the side of Horta where the ferry terminal is. There were mostly bakeries, green markets, and one butcher in the market, as well as one small booth with ‘souvenirs.’ Among the inexpensive items was a glass cabinet that had some fish scale pieces in it! At last! After a week of searching I found six examples of this technique. The framed piece on the left is made from fish scales, and the artist signed the piece MJ Melo. The one on the right is something entirely different.

Last week we visited the Horta Museum, an interesting and somewhat odd collection of things that supposedly cover the history of this island, but only manages to cover very brief moments in the long history of the Azores. One of the galleries was full of intricately carved pieces made of some white material. It was definitely not whale bone, of which there are many examples here of scrimshaw and whale bone carving. Bob and I learned that one of the traditional crafts here is carving the white pith at the center of fig branches. I’ve never heard of this, but the Azoreans have made quite an art of it.

The most renowned carver is Euclides Rosa whose works fill an entire gallery in the museum. He has carved village scenes with buildings and people and trees, as well as individual items. Here is one example from the museum website.

The white pith at the center of fig branches is soft until it becomes a bit hardened over time. Even in its hardened state, it is softer to carve than bone or wood, but requires very fine tools and great dexterity. Layers of carved pitch are glued together with gum Arabic, and that has to be expertly done because over time the gum Arabic turns yellow, while the fig pith remains white. The glue has to be well hidden and carefully applied. The framed piece on right right above is a tiny cluster of roses carved in pith. The artist did not put his/her name on the piece. On a previous visit to Portugal (2014), I learned that there are associations of craft techniques, like guilds, and that in order to put a name on a piece that artist needs to achieve a certain level of expertise and be judged by the association. But the little arrangement of roses is so delicate and finely done I can’t imagine this carver would not be able to sign the work!

And so begins my search for how Azoreans express their creativity with the materials at hand on these islands. Bob and I will visit the island of Pico over the weekend where there are many walled gardens, like the cloistered gardens from the Middle Ages, where micro climates are created by protecting the gardens from the harsh Atlantic winter storms. There are walled vineyards which we hope to visit! There are two other islands we hope to visit before we spend our last week in Sao Miguel in early July, before I fly to Scotland.

An Abundance of Good

It’s almost June, and I have been writing blogposts in my head for about two months. None of them has made it to reality here on this site. I am approaching the end of my 3 1/2 months at home before leaving to go back to Pandora in mid-June. It’s almost time to go again. Somehow, when I am living aboard it seems that several months at home will allow me to get a lot of things done. I envision myself weaving, knitting, creating every single day, but life always has other plans. Still, there has been a lot good over the past three months. In 10 days I’ll be on a plane heading to the Azores, where I will wait for Bob to arrive, unless he beats me there. There is a slight chance for that.

In spite of never accomplishing what I hope to do in any given period of time, I have experienced a tremendous amount of productivity and inspiration. I attended all the meetings I normally miss, and what an exceptional treat that was to be with so many other weavers who all have ideas worth noting. I now have a longer list of things I want to weave and knit, spin and sew. But before I can plan new projects I have to finish the ones currently on my looms, currently on my knitting needles.

This is the project I put on my Baby Wolf shortly after I returned home after taking a zoom class on double huck with Cally Booker in January, when I was aboard Pandora with no way to weave. It’s Finnish linen, single ply #8, which I think is about 2400 yards per pound. To start I set my warp at 33 epi, which is only 16 epi for each layer of the double weave. I wove two samples and washed them. I think they are both too loose.

Cally suggested I try 1/2 units of huck alternating with 1/2 units of plain weave before I decided to re-sley. It didn’t help.

I re-sleyed at 40 epi (20 for each layer), and I like what I’m getting now.

So I’m on the real project now, a cowl, with 3-4 colors in both layers of the warp, but only two colors in the weft. I may add more colors in the next cowls after this one. Of course, now I’ve decided that I want to take this with me on my summer travels. So the heat is on! I leave in 10 days.

And of course I wanted a new sweater to take with me for the windy, chilly Outer Hebrides that I’ll visit in July. I have now finished the 2nd sleeve and will sew it in later today. This is a design by Martin Storey called “Skylark,” for Rowan yarns. I bought this yarn years ago for a different sweater which called for two versions of Shibui yarns, “Fern” which is a soft organic cotton yarn, and “Twig” which is a fine linen yarn. That sweater required holding the yarns together, and of course that made it quite expensive. I thought it would look better in this design, even though this sweater “Skylark” calls for a wool yarn from Rowan. So of course this meant I was play a game of ‘yarn chicken’ which I detest doing! And I knew I was going to lose, which is why I decided to do the front bands in three strands of 16/2 linen from my weaving stash. You can see the front bands are a darker color. Then came the mistakes! Although it doesn’t show (to me) there are significant decreases after the cabled ribs at the bottom of the sweater. When I knit the right front (on the left in the photo) I forgot to do that! When I was almost finished with the shoulder shaping I realized that this part of the sweater was WAY bigger than the other front. I had to rip all the way back to the top of ribbing. Not fun, especially since it’s all stockinette stitch. Then came the next big mistake: I did not notice that I accidentally carried the front band yarn all the way across that second front until I was sewing the body pieces together. Can you imagine how frustrated I was when I realized I had another major mistake? I decided I could not face ripping back and knitting again–all that stockinette stitch. This unsightly stripe is on my right, and since I usually wear a cross body bag when I am out and about, the bag will hide most of this problem. If I get really inspired (unlikely) I could duplicate stitch with the darker yarn in various other places to continue the look. I often find that if I wear something before I consider it finished I never go back to do the embellishments I’ve planned. I am going to wear this sweater on Friday, complete with the cross body bag disguise. I’ll probably never do the duplicate stitch. It is what it is. And I won’t even mentioned that in spite of using a different yarn for the front bands, I had to go on long, deep internet search to find one more skein of “Fern” to make the 2nd sleeve. This sweater had its challenges.

A few weeks ago I found some beautiful linen fabric on Etsy. It is printed linen from Finland. I seem to be on a roll with materials from Finland. How could I resist this?

I made a simple top, except that at my level of skill that neckline was not so simple. I didn’t get the two sides of the V-neck the same, even though I re-did it three times. When I tried this on the first time I realized it needed darts, and I did manage to put those in after the fact. One point for me!

I decided to ‘decorate’ the neckline based on sage advice a weaver once gave me: If you can’t hide it, decorate it! I made some crocheted cord that is used in Romanian lace, but that only accentuated the uneven neckline. Then I tried some decorative edge embroidery, but that also drew more attention to the problem. Last ditch effort was to go through my vast scarf stash. Bingo! I found a scarf made of manipulated ribbon that I made in a workshop with Sally Shore, almost 2 decades ago! I have never had just the right top to wear this scarf, so I am thrilled that almost 20 years later it’s just the right accessory.

I no longer have any clue how we made these ribbon scarves. They were entertaining to make, and I don’t think it required as much sewing as it looks like it did.

In 10 days I leave to meet Bob in the Azores. He left home in late April and has been sailing ever since. He started in Trinidad, which is spitting distance from Venezuela, and stopped in St. Maarten and Bermuda. He got a change of crew at each stop. On May 31, he left Bermuda with two new crew members to head non-stop to the Azores. He hopes to get there by mid June, which will mean he’s been sailing for 6 weeks with no rest. He’s had technical problems and health problems along the way. He has mostly taken it all in stride, but I have not. I have to admit that I seriously thought we needed to rethink these plans. But he’s on his way, and the passage is going very well so far. The prep for this passage certainly didn’t.

I will fly to the Azores on June 15th, and just in case Bob hasn’t arrived, I have booked five days in what i hope is very comfortable hotel, right on the harbor, walking distance from a scrimshaw museum, a knitting store, and a fine craft gallery. I hope I find something wonderful to buy for Bob’s 70th birthday which is Sunday. We are missing being together on both our 48th anniversary and his landmark birthday. But he chose to do this trip so I know he’s doing what he loves.

In mid-July I will fly to Scotland to spend 2-3 weeks doing some very exciting things with a good friend whom I have traveled with numerous times. We travel well together and always have a good time. And this is when the abundance of good is going straight into the stratosphere. I have an appointment to see the tapestries that Archie Brennan’s family has given to the National Museum of Scotland. I believe they have in the neighborhood of 100 of Archie’s tapestries. They are in storage now, but I hope there will be an opportunity to display them. We all got cheated for his retrospective exhibition when it took place in July-August of 2021, when it wasn’t yet safe to travel. Maybe there is another chance for a big exhibition of his work.

After that I have an appointment to meet the current director of the Dovecot Studios. The last time I was in Scotland, and so looking forward to visiting the Dovecot, it was closed for renovations. Now is the time. I am so thankful. I’ve been asked to give a talk about Archie, so I am preparing for that, and yes, I am very nervous. The Dovecot is where Archie learned to weave, and where he established his career as a tapestry designer and weaver. He is a legend there. Here he is, age 16, in the center front, with the other weavers from that time. It is 1947 or ’48.

It’s going to be an exciting summer, full of an abundance of amazing opportunities. When I leave Edinburgh, my friend Kari and I will visit Stirling Castle to see the reproduction tapestries of the “Hunt for the Unicorn.” While I was studying with Archie and the Wednesday Group, we met the weavers from the UK, who visited the Met Cloisters in order to study the originals. Now I will get to see their finished pieces. And we’ll visit Galashiels to see the “Great Tapestry of Scotland” which is an embroidery on a vast scale, like the Bayeux Tapestry. As luck would have it, earlier this year I met three women who either worked on this monumental piece or are related to someone who did. What serendipty. Then we’ll head to the West Coast to do a sightseeing excursion through the Outer Hebrides. I’ve got a few mills and other textile places on my ‘must see’ list. I have to wonder if I’ll ever have such a textile rich trip again. It’s an abundance of good.

Incredible Connections

One week ago yesterday I visited the Collections Department of the Cooper Hewitt Museum in New York City, to see the entire series of Archie Brennan’s “Dersu Uzala” tapestries. I have seen them before, both numerous times in Archie and Susan’s (Susan Martin Maffei) home studio, and the last time in an exhibit in Garnerville, NY. In the exhibit the 12 tapestries ran along one long wall in the large gallery. It was my first time to see them all together, and it was exhilarating. The gallery is in an old textile warehouse, a brick building that I remember having dark brick walls in the gallery. I might be wrong about that. Perhaps some of the walls were white plaster. Odd thing, memory.

Here are the tapestries, carefully wrapped in archival tissue with an outer wrapping in something that looked like acetate, nestled in two boxes. I’m not sure I can put words to the thrill of watching each one get unwrapped and laid out on the viewing table.

The light was bright and diffused, a combination I have rarely seen, before being in that room. Between the quality of light and seeing the tapestries laid out horizontally, it was quite a different experience.

Such a thrill to see his techniques up close, the letters, the shadows on each streak of falling snow.

Here is one of my favorite in the s eries. All that beautiful woven surface,the subtle color changes, the wonderful lettering and landscape turning green….the rain. Now let’s take a closer look.

I thought I’d go straight home and practice based on these techniques. Hasn’t happened yet.

Let’s take a moment to watch one the tapestries being unfurled from its protective coverings:

Here is the subtlety of “Dersu” woven into the snowstorm.

Are you feeling the enthusiasm? It is such a unique experience to see these tapestries at this vantage point. All credit for these images goes to my son Chris who is quite smitten with this series. We were both astounded that these pieces will stay in New York. Many of Archie’s other works have gone to Scotland, to the Dovecot Studios and to the National Museum of Scotland.

Let’s look at “The Ravens-An Omen,” which is certainly the most dramatically graphic tapestry in this series.

The imagery is so strong, the colors so saturated. The surfaces are so smooth, with perfect selvedges. Really, I almost needed a break to sit down and recuperate a bit! I was reminded of a statement by one of Archie’s early students, Cheryl Thornton, at the Victorian Tapestry Workshop in Australia (now the Australian Tapestry Workshop). She said, “I still think of him sitting at the loom and the ease with which he sat there. There was something about his presence sitting…there was no struggle.”

A piece with a meandering slit! How did he do that?

I’d place a bet that all of us want to give this a try. Like his Penelope postcard woven to look like it’s on an angle (Page 103 in Archie Brennan: Tapestry as Modern Art). Those selvedges on either side of the slit are a marvel. (The bit of weft showing near the bottom of the slit is just weft that needs to be pushed to the back.)

And here is a view from a different angle. Huge thanks to Christopher for getting these images with so many creative details.

Archie was one with the act of weaving. It seemed to be part of his body, part of his mind and soul. There certainly didn’t ever appear to be any struggle when he sat at the loom. Perhaps all that struggle took place when he thought about a new design, and when he did drawings to express his ideas. I just know that I feel such a sense of awe mixed with a calm contentment when I look at his work, especially at close range.

My son took more than a hundred pictures during our visit. I wish I could share all of them with you. But there is more to this story.

One week later, which was yesterday, I was at the Lyman Allyn Art Museum in New London, CT. My guild had an exhibit there for the past five weeks, and yesterday was the day that our hanging committee took down the works. We finished in record time, which gave me time to see another exhibit on view at the museum with a friend of mine from the committee.

This is an exhibition of artworks by the Inuit and Cree communities of the Arctic region of Canada in the far north of Quebec. The region includes Cape Dorset as well as Pangnirtung which sits right at the edge of the Arctic Circle, and is where Archie and Susan taught weaving at the Pangnirtung Weaving Center. Archie wrote a compelling essay about the life style of these people that you can read on page 186 of the book. Now, just one week after spending time with the very tapestries that Archie designed at this very spot, I was seeing all kinds of artwork done by the people of that area. Five weeks earlier I had helped hang our Connecticut State guild’s biennial exhibit without knowing what was on view in a nearby gallery of this museum. There were no tapestries on display in this exhibit, likely because weaving is not a traditional artform there. It’s a land without sheep, for one thing.

The exhibit has hand blocked prints, photographs, drawings, and carvings. I enjoyed all of it, and more so because of knowing that Archie had been in that very place in the early 1990s.

This is the only photo I’ll share from the exhibit. It’s a watercolor by the Canadian man who studied the works of this community, photographed them, and made a documentary about them. He very much reminds of the Dersu Uzala story, where Dersu was hired to be a guide in the Siberian forest for a Russian surveyor who was exploring the area on behalf of the Russian government in the first few years of the 20th century. It was a stroke of serendipity to find this exhibit so soon after visiting Archie’s “Dersu Uzala” at the Cooper Hewitt.

I find this painting particularly compelling. It reminds me of Archie’s “Spring Rain” where the landscape is turning green in blocky shapes, like the blocky shapes of this ice flow. And the mountains rise up as huge blocks of rock. I am pulled to weave this, but we’ll see.

On view in the gallery was one episode of a 7-part documentary called “Leaving None Behind.” You can read about it here. The documentary film was made by the Canadian man who contributed so much to this exhibit, John Houston. Here is a trailer for the series. The documentary is available to rent on Vimeo, which you can access from the trailer.

What a week! Bob and I are in the throes of getting him ready to fly to Trinidad to begin his long voyage north to St. Maarten and Bermuda, where he will meet up with the other sailors who are joining him to cross the Atlantic to the Azores. I have six weeks to get some weaving done before I join him, via TAPS airline (!), in Horta. I have a lot of fodder and good inspiration after the past week. Let me put these weeks to good use!

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