Weaving and Art

Meg made a comment recently in which she asked two questions. Here is the first question:

"....in your opinion, Peg, what makes a piece of weaving deserving of being in a gallery?"

I am not, absolutely not(!) going to answer the question of defining gallery worthiness, not for weaving, not for any kind of fiber art, not for any kind of so-called traditional fine art! That is a question for gallery owners/operators, or, in the case of juried shows, for the jurors. It matters not a whit whether or not I think a piece is deserving; the only thing that matters is whether these others think a piece is deserving.

And here is her second question:

"...what are we, or you, a weaver, a craftsperson, an artisan, an artist?"

I will try, for myself and myself only, to answer the second question.

I remember when I became engaged. I practiced over and over again what my new name was going to be. It sounded so foreign and yet wonderful. So scary. I have no idea when I finally became comfortable with that new name. I know a marriage certificate didn't make me feel comfortable with it. I know that a wedding ceremony didn't make me feel comfortable with it. However, both did help. Sometime in the course of our marriage, as the two of us lived into the commitment we had made, my name was no longer new. Now it is difficult for me to imagine that I ever had another name.

I remember when I began the struggle to think of myself as a weaver. No certificate marked the change. No ceremony marked the change. Only, finally, the internal commitment to weaving marked the change. But because there were no public vows to make, no public document to sign, the movement towards naming myself as a weaver came much more slowly and with much greater difficulty.

I can say right now that I do not, however, consider myself an artist. On the other hand, I cannot say that I am not struggling to move in that direction.

A painter is a painter. But he is also an artist. A sculptor is a sculptor; he too is an artist. An oil painter is an oil painter, also an artist. I person who works in batik is a craftsman but also an artist. Many quilters are not only quilters but artists. I don't think most people have trouble with all this. I certainly do not.

And there are weavers, as well, who are artists.

Any painter, quilter, sculptor, weaver who is trying to express something of himself, whether beauty, meaning, opinion, has moved beyond being simply a craftsman. He is moving into the world of art. And the longer that person continues the struggle along that path, trying to follow his own voice and not the voices of others, the more what that person creates becomes more recognizable to others as that person's work.

On the other hand, a painter who simply copies the works of others, a quilter who only follows patterns designed by others, a weaver who always reproduces someone else's design, none of these is an artist, none of these is moving along a path which would lead him into the creation of art.

As for my own work, all I know is that this is the kind of path I have chosen to follow. I, once a bashful individual who always did what she was told, who always tried to live out the expectations of others, am now trying to listen to my own voice.

8 Crackle Blocks on 4 Shafts, More Polychrome Treadling

Here is more of the polychrome treadling I started yesterday:


The red at the bottom is the treadling from yesterday using three reds. I then continued the same treadling, but using blues and purples as well in various ways and proportions. On occasion I interpolated a short band incorporating yellow for a spark of interest.

Also I incorporated some yellow warp. This is visible on the left side of the photo. What I did here was to take two lengths of gold/yellow 10/2 pearl cotton and threaded each of them through neighboring heddles. These are heddles which already had warp ends threaded through them, so I was added ends to them. I then sleyed them, tied them to the cloth and weighted them at the back of the loom. The pin at the top with the gold/yellow thread coming from it is the beginning of another length of yellow warp ends.

I like what is going on here and think it has possibilities for my next silk warp. Also, I like this part well enough that I am going to weave it so that I have enough length to make some kind of small bag with it. Thanks to Leigh for this idea.

What I do not like about this is the blues and violets with the orangish red. Used with the reds, that is fine, but not with the blues. Either that or I would have to make a more subtle transition.

By the way, the colors in yesterday's post are much more accurate than the colors in today's post.

8 Crackle Blocks on 4 Shafts, Continued

Here is the next set of samples, all treadled with 10/2 pearl cotton as weft:


These are treadled, for want of a better word, polychrome style. That is, I used three colors of weft (or, in the case of the red, three shades of red), and treadled them sequentially. In the case of the sample at the bottom, I treadled the first group (at the very bottom) as follows:

treadle 1-blue;
treadle 2-gold;
treadle 3-purple;
treadle 4-blue;
treadle 5-gold;
treadle 6-purple.

I then repeated these six treadles with the same colors until that group of blocks was as tall as I wanted. Then I changed the order of the colors for the second group of blocks. And I changed the order once again for the third group of blocks.

One thing is very clear with this treadling and this use of color. The "blocks within blocks" phenomenon that I mentioned when talking about the first set of samples is much more obvious. I can count 25 blocks across the width of the weaving shown in the above photo.

The red sampling is treadled the same way, except with three shades of red: a dull red, an orange red and a cherry red. The photo does not reveal the "blocks within blocks" phenomenon so clearly here. Looking at the actual fabric, however, one can clearly see them.

Now I feel like I am getting somewhere with my sampling. I very much like what is happening in the red sample. And I also like the roughish texture, not visible in the photo, which has developed. I do not know if that texture effect will stay through the washing and pressing of the fabric.

I must confess that one of the things that I like is that no binders are needed and the treadling is very easy.

Randall Darwall

I mentioned Randall Darwall in an earlier post when I was discussing weaving as fine art. In my early days as a weaver (I was but a raw beginner) I took a one-day workshop with him. The workshop was offered by my weaving guild in Atlanta . We were supposed to bring some of our weavings for him to critique. Few of us dared. Certainly I did not. Nevertheless it was an unforgettable day in which he shared his life, his weavings, his techniques.

Darwall was the first weaver I'd ever heard to suggest that scarves could be art. He told us that he wove his, not necessarily just to be worn, but to be draped over a chair, on a wall, used on a table.

Since that day, whenever I am in a boutique that carries his scarves, I study them intently. Studying them is like studying a magnificent oil painting. I get glimmers and smatterings, but I never fully understand. All I really know is how beautiful his scarves are.

Yesterday I discovered a blogger who had taken notes at a week-long hands-on workshop offered by Darwall last year in New Zealand. Her notes can be found here on her blog.

Meg introduces her blog entries: " It was like Christmas. But better. We waited and waited for the whole year. And then it finally happened. For six exciting days, our two Santas greeted us at 8.30 AM every morning and we got stuck into the magical world of colors (and values and proportions, but more on these later)." Do go read the whole thing for yourself.

And for her responses to the Darwall scarf she purchased (and also a gorgeous photo of it), go to her post here.

And do look at some of her other posts. A good blog. I now have a link to it on my blog.

Related Posts: Art Piece 2: Weaving Continues

Crackle Yardage Two

Here is a photo of the second crackle yardage bit I wove. It has been mended. That is not quite true. Aside from an unfixable mis-treadle, there was no need for mending. All I had to do was cut off all the extra bits of weft thread. Then I washed and hard-pressed it. And here it is as it looked while still on the ironing board:



Yes, the ironing board looks a bit big. That is because I have laid something called a Big Board over the top of the ironing board. It is covered with padding and muslin, just like a regular ironing board is. Sometimes, though, when I want a really hard press, as for silk, I press directly on the board itself with no padding or muslin cover. This has been a wonderful tool for me. For more information, check out the website for Big Board.

And here is a picture of the fabric draped over a lamp:


The fabric is quite light weight and, considering the structure, drapes rather nicely. The lampshade underneath, of course, causes the fabric to look bulkier than it really is.

My original intention was to use this piece as trim. Of course, that was only an intention. I do not know what will finally become of it. I do like it, however, and almost wish this had been the main yardage.

8 Crackle Blocks on 4 Shafts: More Treadling on Opposites

Here is the first set of samples from the 8 blocks on 4 shafts crackle warp. These are treadled on opposites, using two colors. There are 3 repeats, each repeat using a different set of colors. Interesting, but I can live without them.

The samples do show something interesting, however. At first glance, this looks like a row of long blocks 11 blocks to be more precise. Closer investigation, however, shows that each long block actually comprises two blocks. Treadling on opposites does not play up this distinction, though it is clearly there. Perhaps another treadling will.


This is a bit more interesting. Well, at least it is suggestive of some promise. This continues the treadling on opposites but using two different reds. It's difficult to see in the picture; it does show up more in reality, though it is still subtle (which is good, by the way). Now I am starting to get a glimmer of some possibilities.

The black wefts you see are 10/2 pearl cotton. I wound a length on a knitting bobbin and just inserted in sheds, choosing when quite arbitrarily. The heavy dab of black in the center results from winding the black around two warp ends every other shed.

A little to the left is a black thread following the warp for a bit. What I did there was to hang the black yarn on its bottom off the back of the loom. I put it through the reed but not through a heddle. Then, as I wove, I lifted it up or let it lay at the bottom of the shed, depending on where I wanted it to appear. It tended to want to stay at the bottom, but it was not hard to raise it using a crochet hook, or even my fingers.

This hand manipulation was not difficult to do. I am thinking of using it in the final fabric, picking up the black lines from the oyster shells. To see the picture I am using for my inspiration source, go back to this post.

I have now started working on polychrome treadling. More on this later.

Crackle Pleats?

Dorothy got me thinking. She has just published an interesting post on creating pleats while weaving. You can read it here.

I have read about this technique a number of times. It turns up in a lot of the weaving literature. But the idea has only brought a yawn from me. Something about Dorothy's piece, however, intrigued me.

I think what intrigued me was the description of her process, including good pics. I started to think: crackle pleats? I put this in a comment on her post, but meant it as little more than a small joke, since I am so enmeshed in crackle.

Maybe I shouldn't consider it as a joke? I have put it in my folder of ideas..............