awayuq

labor day

Some progress. Band is pinned around a short dowel with a large diaper pin. The dowel is tucked into a wide sash tied around the waist. Dowel and pin moved as weaving progresses. I like this pattern.

remembering

Today was a lovely rainy day. Chilly and grey, prompting thoughts of wool and sweaters and russet colors. For me it also had the feeling of "calm before the storm", since as of Tuesday I really can no longer pretend that it's summertime and that the start of another school year is far away. One of the things I am least happy with in my life right now is how seldom I weave, and how I've lost touch with weaving and weavers and weaverly things. I wanted to remind myself that I know how to weave. I found my small balls of handspun in the little coca bag where they've been since I wound them off the spindle and wound a warp for a wide band. Everything went fine: cross, counting, heddles, shed loop--all seems in order. It's working. As of the last picture the pattern was still in the early stages

but it's developing. It's one I haven't woven before and I like the feeling of learning something new while at the same time remembering an old skill. If only I had a month of rainy days like this.

weaving spears?

Ancient Female Weaver Warrior!

described briefly here.

to Sara

On the future of weaving. Sara Lamb had a post a few days ago on this topic. She does wonderful work which has been featured in Spin-Off and probably lots of other magazines, which I am afraid I’ll mis-cite. I especially love her silk Andean bands. Scrumptious. She’s been wondering about where weaving is headed, and why more young people don’t seem to be taking up the practice. (Notice how I so aptly avoided labeling it as “art” or “craft”? Not a debate I want to get into today. Another time maybe). As a lapsed but ever hopeful weaver, I have some opinions…

1. I began weaving about 15 years ago. At that time, I attended guild meetings regularly, subscribed to all the weaving magazines I could get my hands on (Weavers, you are missed!) and read weaving lists religiously. There were a handful of topics that kept coming up on those lists over and over and over. One was the art/craft question. One was how to sell your stuff, how to set prices. One was why conferences are so expensive. One was… “where are all the young weavers?” No-one had any answers then. I’m not convinced the situation is significantly more dire now than it was more than a decade ago, though I’m open to persuasion.

2. The space issue is real. I didn’t believe this when I started weaving—because I had a full finished basement I used as a weaving studio! When I moved to a different city, into about ¼ of the space I had been used to, I resolved not to let that stop my weaving. I kept my 24” fold-up loom, regretfully gave away my 45” Nilus, and figured I’d become a specialist in kimono-type couture, you know, clothing creatively pieced out of narrow panels. The reality is, I’ve only had two or three warps on the loom in as many years. There are other issues, definitely, but the space issue is real. When you don’t have large blocks of dedicated time, the various steps of warping, winding, threading and so on can seem to take forever and more to the point, take up a lot of space. It’s one thing to have a nicely warped loom with the cloth part woven in your spare bedroom. It’s another to have a loom in the middle of being warped, with chains of yarn all over the floor, piles of sticks, extra threads, lease sticks, etc etc etc.... not such an asset to décor.

3. The time issue is real. Everyone my age that I know works too much to weave seriously. (Well, all the women anyway.) We are building careers, building families, or both. I don’t know anyone whose life lends itself to the kind of time—and not just time but blocks of time--that weaving requires. I used to get up very very early in the morning to make sure I had time to weave. That was when my work week was only 40 hours. Now, when my work will essentially fill whatever time it’s given… does that mean I’ve sold out and I’m not a truly dedicated weaver? Maybe. But I don’t think it’s just me; periodically studies come out about the number of hours in an average work week and surprise, it’s not 40. Add in commute time, cooking time, try to have a social life time, and there’s not much left.

4. Not meaning to offend anyone, and asking pardon in advance for any suggestion of stereotype… I know individual situations differ extremely. But for many people my age, social realities are different than for women born 20 or 30 years earlier. I was once at a weaving conference where a well-know weaver gave a talk to a packed auditorium and one of the first things she said was “I have a patron of the arts. His name is—“ and named her husband. Well—good for her. Lots of the rest of us don’t have that luxury. I could be an expert in lampas too, if I didn’t have to work. I could run an indigo vat too if I were home all day. I could write THE book on you-name-it if someone else was willing to buy all my supplies, pay the mortgage and the utilities, and let me weave all day long five days a week. Obviously this doesn’t apply to everyone, because there are many, many dedicated women of all ages who work and struggle to do things on their own and don’t have the support of a patron of any kind. But I confess, it bothers me when women who say they’ve never had to work outside the home wonder why younger ones don’t dedicate more time to weaving. (And just so we’re clear, I am NOT suggesting that Sara falls into this category by any means. I do not mean to reflect negatively on her queries in any way.)

5. The guild issues are very, very real. I used to attend guild meetings regularly and yes, once helped in a tiny way to plan a huge conference. When I changed cities, I found that the local guild met out of reach of public transport, and in the middle of a weekday. ??? And how do you think you’re going to attract young weavers that way? I was able to attend a guild meeting once (only because I was giving a talk, so I was able to cadge time off work for “professional” reasons) and it seems like a great group of people, some excellent weavers, lots of enthusiasm, and the kind of accumulated knowledge that leaves you in awe. Still—there’s no way I can take a day off once a month. It’s just not realistic.

6. The intellectual issues are real. For all knitters’ angst over the gauge game, the sett/fiber/tie-up/treadlin-order-what-if/finishing game is much more complex and likely to be bewildering, unless you really thrive on challenge. The variables in weaving are numerous and not always well defined. I don’t think there should be value judgements attached to what kind of weaving someone chooses to do—privileging structure over colorful plain weave doesn’t do anyone any good and just leads to shaft envy and similar resentments. And after all, perfect plain weave is harder than it looks. I do think though, for me, that the interesting corners of the field are the places where the boundaries get pushed and experimentation is done. It’s difficult to do this without a sound understanding of drafting, the properties of different structures, and how to manipulate your tools to achieve what you want. It takes intellectual effort, and not all of those who work with yarn are willing to give that effort.

7. In my opinion, we do ourselves a disservice by aiming for quick grab ‘em projects to get new weavers involved. If we come up with a successful weaving equivalent of the fun fur knitted scarf, I do not think it will ultimately be to our benefit. Already we have weaving conferences filled with non-weaving seminars. One of my main complaints about conferences I’ve been to is that the quality of even the weaving seminars is at such a basic level that in many instances, you might as well just sit down with a cup of tea and a copy of van der Hoogt’s handbook and review what you already know. (Complex Weaver’s Seminars are notable exceptions to this generality). Weaving is not a practice that leads to quick gratification. No-one should be discouraged from trying it, but neither do I think we should varnish it to make it appear all easy or simple. If weaving becomes a series of weekend recipies for mug rugs, we are doomed.

8. A comment which I hope is out of date… last time I was keeping track, a lot of the everyday wearable items being produced with handwovens weren’t that appealing. Maybe one issue is that to have a finished object, you often need to add other skill sets to weaving. Some sewing is usually required, even if you just need to hem table linens. Many weavers say they are terrible seamstresses. Judging by some finished garments I’ve seen, I’d say there are times when this is not an exaggeration. Then too, what’s fun to weave doesn’t necessarily make good clothing (or curtains or whatever). If creating something to wear is a strong motivator for indulging in a fiber hobby, as it seems to be for many knitters, then we need to find attractive current styles that can be made with handwovens. Unfortunately, I don’t have any solutions to this one right now, but some solutions probably involve finer setts, which again ups the time involved. A sort of vicious circle…

9. In the end, I’m not as concerned with how many weavers there are as with how good they are. Increasing the weaving population ten-fold doesn’t help me as a weaver if 90% of them only want to follow printed directions for the latest cushion/handbag/tablerunner/scarf in plain weave stripes. I don’t feel squeamish about saying this because as someone who was a knitter long before the current craze, I can honestly say that the cheap chunky simple get ‘em going knit faddish stuff leaves me cold. I’m not saying people shouldn’t publish it and make it, but the sum total of what it adds to the knowledge base of knitting is, imho, negligible. Similarly, I could die happy if I never ever saw another recipe for a woven chenille scarf. The real weavers, the ones who stick with it, will, I believe, appreciate the more challenging stuff: doubleweave, damask, collapse, pique, pick your favorite. Even if they never try it all (because who has time to try everything?) they will appreciate that it’s there, and that is what will keep us moving forward.

Over the past few years I’ve done a lot more studying of woven cloth than I’ve done weaving myself. Thanks, Sara, for getting me thinking seriously about it again and prompting me to remember the challenges and intricacies of weaving.

passing it on

They really wanted to do it! A few weeks ago I gave a weaving demonstration in a class and afterwards some of the women asked me if I could teach them to weave. I said sure, but didn't necessarily expect it to happen, college being what it is. There are zillions of other things to do. But they really wanted to learn. They got together and found a time they could all come. Word spread and my tiny group of three turned out to be a class of six. They were great! Truly interested, and very bright. Some of them know how to knit and crochet, but only one had woven before. I feel as if I've done well by introducing them to weaving. At least four of them want to continue, which I think is wonderful. I can't help but remember the person who taught me this kind of weaving, and how important he was to me. I am grateful that I can pass on the knowledge to others. Hooray for teaching!

(this is Andean backstrap weaving-- they are learning complementary warp-faced weaves and making narrow bands).

change of plans

Yesterday I prepared a little andean woven band for a class demonstration today. It's a class my boss is teaching and he asked me to give a short explanation at the beginning of the session before we moved on to talking about the assigned articles. I trundled in this morning with a simple warping board and some cones of yarn.

At quarter to ten I got a phone call from my boss, sounding very out of sorts. He said his wife's car had broken down and he was running late. At quarter to eleven, he fumed into the office. "My car almost blew up!" he shouted. "I can't believe this! It was spewing smoke..." he spent the next half hour or so on the phone to AAA and car dealerships, and said "you'll have to take over class. I'm out for the day. Just give them a weaving demonstration, discuss the readings, you know."

Um. Yeah. Did I mention I'm not a professor?

So around eleven this morning I found myself with a one and a half hour class to teach, starting at one thirty. Thank goodness I'd already planned on the demonstration, otherwise I don't know what I would have done. Luckily I also found in my office cabinet various weave structure samples and some examples of cloth from the Andes that I've used before. How long can you keep non-weavers interested in weaving techniques?

As it turns out, almost an hour and a half. Explaining spinning to people who have never thought about yarn as something that needs to be made can generate a lot of questions in itself. Then there's warping-- what's a cross? Why do you need it? What's a warp? What's a heddle? I confess it's rather fun to talk about one of my favorite subjects. They had lots of great questions. The girl who usually dozes through powerpoint presentations seemed wide awake the whole time. At the end, as I was gathering together the examples I'd spread out all over the table, one of the girls asked me if I teach. Not often, I told her, but I've taught at some weaving conferences and given little workshops here and there. "What's the best way to learn?" she asked.

"Around here... probably the best way would be for us to get together and I'll show you what I know."

"Really? Would you do that? Because," nodding to her two friends, "all of us live in the same house and we really want to learn, we think it's totally cool."

Imagine that!

reappearance

Some of you have been so kind as to wonder where I have been. The answer is: right here, enduring the buffets of life. And, in recent days, transforming chaos

into (relative) order:

My closet is still too small, but at least it's better. Now that all the current home organization projects are done, it's time to move on to actually doing things in the new space. First some socks which were finished a while ago and have been complaining because they didn't get their moment of fame.
They are very nice socks, very warm, perfect for the the kind of day we had today, snow falling for hours and hours. That's my grandmother's rug, by the way. My mother wants you to know. Big Blue Orenburg is getting a little more attention lately. My current listening favorites are old radio mysteries from the 1940's. Could this be linked to my recent discovery of Brenda Starr? In any event, here's an image of Big Blue; you can just make out the center squares which are beginning to close up.

It's still very relaxing, orenburg is not very difficult lace; but as usual, I'm dreaming of all the luscious things I could start if only this one were finished. I'm longing to try the circular daffodil pattern from "Modern Lace Knitting" in--you guessed it-- yellow.

Before that though, I need to give a weaving demonstration for a class tomorrow. Since I haven't done it in a while, I decided I'd better make a small warp and see if I still remember how it's done.

Phew. That wasn't so hard. Thank goodness I can still do the basics.

Finally, there is a sort of indirect result of the great studio clean up. In going through all the boxes of stuff I found this girl, along with some half-finished clothes that I'd started oh so long ago. You would not believe how small I can handstitch when I have a mind to. Perhaps I should say could, since I haven't tried to replicate these tiny rolled hems in a long time. Anyway, in my lust for tidying up, I decided one evening to just finish the darned dress for goodness sakes! I found some lace tucked away in a drawer which made it more fun. Now she's fully clothed again, hand-worked buttonholes and all.

By the way, when I went looking for a brown-haired sister for this girl, I found that these dolls are not produced any more, and the ones in existence appear to be getting quite valuable. Guess I'll hang onto her for a while....

I love it!

Life presses, and progress appears too small to measure. But I did complete the linen sample, and I love it. It's one of those rare fabrics that turned out almost exactly as I'd imagined. I didn't iron it for the pictures, because I rather enjoy the "natural" linen look. A summer garment out of this would be wonderful. However-- my sample was less than two yards long, and I was noting tension differences between the basketweave sections and plainweave sections by about halfway through. Clearly if any significant length of yardage were to be woven, those sections shouldn't be beamed together.

And-- my handspun didn't break! Not once!

inches

The first few inches of the linen sample. The basket weave portions should even out with washing. I've done several feet now, and am running into some tension problems-- I should have thought of this earlier. Because the handspun (the green single threads in the photo) interlaces much less often than everything else, it's getting slack. My current approach is to put a stick under the handspun threads at the back beam and weight it with fishing weights. It's helping. But the same problem happens in the basketweave stripes, though to lesser degree. Which makes me wonder how I would handle long warp. Perhaps it is time to get a second warp beam?

soaking

Last night I wound a bobbin with the singles linen and began to weave. Immediately I remembered why I always used to soak linen bobbins in water before putting them in the shuttle. I got a few inches done, but every pick the wiry yarn leapt off the end of the bobbin and twirled around the tension pegs. After a few inches I cut the weft and stuck that bobbin in a jar of water overnight. This morning's attempts were much easier. I love linen! It has a character which is not always easy to tame, but it makes beautiful fabric and is probably my favorite fiber to wear. The weave structure is coming out the way I designed it to, which is good, but I can't yet tell what effect the handspun will have, if any. If it just lies there like a slubby thread, it will still be pretty, but at some point in my weaving life I want to get a clear understanding of yarn energy.

Because the handspun is so thick in places, this is sleyed in an 8 dent reed, which means most of the fabric has a denting pattern of 3/4/3/4... the reed marks are very obvious right now, but I am pretty confident that they will wash out.

My mother is coming to visit me at the end of this month. She's a passionate knitter and has recently taken up Navaho weaving, so she can't come to Massachusetts without visiting WEBS. She told me to start making a list, as if I needed a list, or as if that would help curb the expenditures once I got there! Here's item one: check to see if they have very short reed pieces.