Showing posts with label stitches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stitches. Show all posts

Friday, 30 May 2014

Kaffe Fassett at the American Museum in Bath

The American Museum in Bath is hosting an exhibition of Kaffe Fassett textiles and designs until 2 November 2014. We took a trip down over the bank holiday weekend to check out the show and visit friends in the Bath area. The show, called the Colourful World of Kaffe Fassett, was an excellent antidote to the dreary weather we've been experiencing lately.

Tree decorated with pompoms and lanterns
made from Kaffe Fassett fabric

Kaffe Fassett is a master colorist, working mainly in the medium of knitwear, quilts and needlepoint. He has had a long relationship with the American Museum, and the exhibition included several needlepoints and drawings based on pieces in the museum. The pieces on display were delightful: bright, intricate and inspiring; everything you would expect from Kaffe Fassett.


Recreation of Kaffee's working space? Some studio!

Warm reds

Moving on to the blue room

Making the most of contrast colours

Getting inspiration from Kaffe's swatches

complementary knitwear and quilt

Quilting, knitting, needlepoint and painting.
Is there anything Kaffe can't do?

I find Kaffe Fassett knitwear to be visually attractive, but not particularly appealing, or even wearable. The knitting requires fiddly techniques using too many colours to be practical. Also, the shapes are typically oversized 1980s - not my favourite style.

I was more drawn to the quilts and needlepoint. The quilts were mainly in wild, vibrant colours, and Kaffe has a whole line of quilt fabric, so it would be pretty easy to recreate the Fassett effect. The needlepoints often used more subtle tones. I'm very tempted to try to recreate some of the beautiful vegetables in purples and greens.

Vegetable tapestry

Beautiful beet needlepoint

Bringing the garden inside

Some of Kaffe's needlepoint patterns are available for sale from Ehrman Tapestry, but not the vegetables. If anyone knows where I could find them, please let me know!

And don't neglect to visit the rest of the museum (the only one dedicated to American craft outside the US), because there are other Kaffe Fassett treasures scattered throughout.

Flowers and fabric swatch

Tuesday, 23 July 2013

Van Gogh yellow

Xanthopsia

It wasn't absinthe or digitalis
in the Yellow House the two of them shared
that led him to layer the chrome coronas
or yellow the sheets in the bedroom in Arles
or tinge the towel negligently hung
on the hook by the door, or yellow the window,
be it distant view or curtain, yolk-lick
the paintings on the wall by the monkish bed.
No, it wasn't sunstroke or the bright light
of Southern France that yellowed the café terrace
at the Place du Forum, a pigment
intensified by the little white tables, the white stars
in a blue sky, the deep saffron floor, it wasn't
some chemical or physical insult that stained
the vase with twelve sunflowers a urinous
yellow, the water in the vase yellow,
also the table under the vase--such
a troubled life of yellow leading up
to Vincent's hurled wineglass arousing
Gaugin's rapier to sever his best friend's ear,
the story they made up that Vincent lopped it
off himself, wrapped it, ran down the road
to the nearby bordello, where his favourite whore
opened her present and fainted. He would
have bled to death if Gaugin hadn't hauled him
to hospital next morning. Even in 'Self Portrait
with Bandaged Ear," his necessary colour washes in
despite greatcoat and pipe. Science has a word--
xanthopsia--for when objects appear
more yellow as they really are, but who's
to say? As yellow as they are, they are.

- Maxine Kumin published in the New Yorker


Sweet dreams shawl in Frank Ocre Malabrigo lace

Chartreuse green used to be my colour of choice, but lately I've been tending toward Van Gogh yellow. It's got more kick.

I've created a board on pinterest with all the Van Gogh paintings mentioned in the poem.


Follow Mikal's board Xanthopsia on Pinterest.

Tuesday, 12 March 2013

Visiting museums: Quilts in Paris

In honour of my quilter mother, I always try to visit quilt shows when I have the opportunity. Opportunities are less common in Europe than in America, so I was delighted to find a quilt show on at the Mona Bismarck American Center for Art and Culture in Paris (13 Feb-19 May 2013) during my most recent visit.

The Mona Bismarck American Center is in the 16th arrondissement, a wealthy part of town I don’t visit much – it has a cold, grand feel to it, and is generally devoid of the quirky architecture, pleasant parks and shopping I prefer. The streets are mostly named after important individuals and there are quite a few with American connections (Avenue New York, Rue Benjamin Franklin, Avenue du President Wilson, plus the Franklin Roosevelt Metro station). So I guess the American Center is appropriately located.

It is housed in the Paris home of Mona Von Bismarck, a Kentucky-born socialite named best-dressed woman in 1933. She came from humble origins but married into wealth (and occasionally nobility) five times, which must have helped to keep her in fancy dresses.

Mona Von Bismarck in Balenciaga
© The Cecil Beaton Studio Archive at Sotheby’s
The Center she founded is dedicated to presenting American art and culture in Paris - and what could be more American than quilts?

It turned out the quilts were actually part of another collection with the same cultural aim of presenting American art and culture – to the British. They came all the way from the American Museum in Bath, another museum started by flamboyant characters – antique collectors this time.

The show displays a wide selection of different quilting techniques from the 18th to early 20th centuries. Quilting specifically means the technique of sewing two or more layers of material together to make a thicker padded material, usually creating a regular surface design in the process. But quilts themselves vary greatly in the technique used to create the top layer, which can be made from a single sheet of fabric or created by piecing together different sized and coloured pieces of cloth, appliquéing fabric shapes to a sheet of fabric, or even embroidering designs.

Pieced quilts are probably the most familiar form of quilting. They were made by sewing together small, regularly shaped pieces of cloth, traditionally often cut from old garments. The design possibilities are endless, depending on the shape, size and colour of the fabric pieces. Some popular patterns become standardised and are given names.

Detail of Star of Bethlehem quilt
© the American Museum in Britain

One of the appliquéd quilts was instantly recognisable from my last visit to the American Museum in Bath (made with my mother many years ago, but the quilt in question is too stunning and unusual to be forgotten).


Queen Kapiolani’s Fan Quilt
Image borrowed from the Magazine Antiques

But my very favourite piece was the Baseballs quilt, probably from Cooperstown New York, appropriately the home of the National Baseball Hall of Fame. You definitely can’t get more American than quilts AND baseball.

Detail of Baseballs with appliqué and embroidery,
borrowed from the exhibition catalogue

Monday, 31 December 2012

Unfulfilled New Year's resolutions

It's that time of year again, time to look back on what we have accomplished in the previous year. Not a pretty sight for me, because I haven't accomplished even one of last year's three resolutions (to design my own knits, finish the Bayeaux tapestry, and start weaving).

However, I haven't been completely aimless this past year. I actually accomplished some very useful things - I got two raises at work, and I started running.

The two raises (one retroactive) I basically got by nagging, but the running was a real effort. I followed the NHS Couch to 5k programme, which gets you running five kilometres in nine weeks. It starts out easy, alternating one minute of walking with one minute of running, and gradually builds you up to running three times a week for 30 minutes straight.

Unfortunately my running schedule suffered when the evenings became too dark to run in the park after work. But I've managed to sustain about one run per week with a running partner, and now that the days are slowly getting longer, I'm going to try to work back up to my peak summer schedule of three 30 minute runs a week.

So, resolution number 1, continue running!

To continue the theme of non-craft related resolutions, I've decided to try to escape from the cooking rut I've gotten into. I used to quite enjoy cooking, but lately I lack inspiration and usually just throw together some sort of pasta for dinner.

I bought Yokam Ottalenghi's beautiful vegetarian cookbook Plenty this summer, and the three recipes I tried were fantastic, so I'm going to try to work through the whole book. And when I'm done, I might just go ahead and buy his second book, Jerusalem. Time to get away from Italian and return to the Middle Eastern foods of my childhood.

So, resolution number 2, continue cooking!

Since I can't completely neglect the crafting, I'll revisit last year's resolutions and really finish the Bayeaux tapestry this time. Thanks to knit-free Mondays I have actually made some progress - one and a half people, and the surrounding border.

If I manage to keep to that schedule, I'm sure I'll be able to finish handily in time for next Christmas. We'll be in the States next year, so my mother will be able to help me make it up into a wall hanging.

So, resolution number 3, continue embroidering!

And finally, because I couldn't possibly let a year go by without at least one knitting resolution, this year I promise I will definitely definitely start designing my own patterns. Moving to a new, smaller flat has made me realise that I already have far too many knits (and too much yarn). Designing my own knits should slow me down so I don't produce many more knits that I have no space for.

So, resolution number 4, start designing!

There, that should keep me busy.





Friday, 19 October 2012

Knitting and stitching in London

I managed to make it to the Knitting and Stitching show at Alexandra Palace in London this past weekend. Normally I find out about these things too late, but this time I found out just in time AND had a free weekend.

We traveled via train and underground, arriving at Wood Green station.

Decorative ventilation grille on the platform

The walk from the station only takes about 25 minutes, and you get to enjoy some some impressive views of the city from the park.


London skyline

Alexandra Palace, or Ally Pally as it is affectionately known, was built in 1873 as a 'people's palace' - a public centre for recreation, education and entertainment. There is a skating rink, television studios, and several large halls that can be used for exhibitions and concerts.

The Knitting and Stitching shows (there are three each year) provide an enormous market place for specialist craft supplies plus lots of workshops. But the best part is the displays by professional textile artists and groups, including lots of craft guilds. It is just as much a show for looking as for buying  - which was good, because I'm currently on a yarn diet - but not a crash diet, as you shall see.

Here are a couple of things that took my fancy:

Miniature quilt


Less than 10 inches high!


QR code from Mr X Stitch

Do you suppose it would work?


Another selection from Mr X Stitch

Cross stitch car door


Wafer Thin 2012: A Study of the Role of Fat was long roll of fabric printed and stitched with images and sayings about food. There was an accompanying book with all the sections printed out so you could see the whole roll.



Another enjoyable aspect was the displays by student artists - you could linger and chat with them about their work.

Student with embossed, cut and stitched paper

Finally, at the entrance to the show, reminding us of our sometimes fickle nature, the tent of unfinishables.

Inside: tragic (and funny) stories of unfinished projects
Outside: all those poor, abandoned projects


And, as mentioned, I did not escape yarnless. I found several new fibres to add to my collection - Lotus Miya mink yarn from China and Bessie May nettle/wool yarn from the UK.

The nettle yarn has a lovely sheen. I'm thinking a hat

Wednesday, 29 August 2012

Sewing Easy Vogue

You call this easy?


I've only done very easy Vogue patterns before. Am I ready for the next level? I'm finding out with my vintage Vogue wraparound dress pattern.

Stretch cotton sateen
I found the perfect material at John Lewis in Reading. I hemmed and hawed over a few colourful floral patterns - unfortunately most of them were out of my price range at £16 plus per metre. I was just about to go with the inevitable navy (with small red and white flowers),  but at the very last minute I spotted a stunning pattern of large black flowers on a white field - and even better it was on sale!

I thought I should be able to manage this pattern because there were no buttonholes or zippers. But there are other ways to make sewing difficult, I've discovered. The sewing has taken me over two weeks, mainly because of the complicated bodice.

The fitted bodice is made up of front, back AND sides. And once the pieces were sewn together, I had to attach bias binding on the arm and neck holes and on the tie ends.

Wrap-around dress requiring 3 metres of fabric
and LOTS of finishing
Sewing, I have decided, is basically a matter of seaming and then finishing the edges. I'm ok at the seaming part, but I tend to lose patience when it comes to finishing. Most of the seams are in the inside anyway, where no one will see them! But tidy seams are less likely to come apart, and they are more pleasing.

The bias binding covered up the shoulder and neck seams very nicely, but it was time consuming to apply. First I had to stay stitch to strengthen the edge. Then I pinned on the bias tape, sewed along the fold, cut off the extra fabric, folded over and pinned the bias tape, basted the tape in place, then sewed on the right side of the fabric along the basted stitch. And then removed the basting thread. Phew!


Pin bias tape, stitch in fold, then trim off excess fabric

fold over bias tape, pin, then baste


I thought the whole basting business seemed a bit overkill - why couldn't I just sew the pinned bias tape in place from the inside? But after trying the shortcut method (on the less visible tie sections) I am now converted to basting. Basting holds the fabric exactly where you want it to be, which makes it easier to sew on curves and prevents pinches in the fabric. And machine sewing looks nicer from the top.

I will definitely do more basting in future if I sew more difficult fitted patterns. So much better than having to resew (or even worse, make a muslin).

That said, I still had to do a fair bit of resewing, because I somehow managed to sew the skirt on back to front! I blame that on the fact that I was hurrying to finish before lunch. And for some reason I only attached the middle part of the front skirt to the bodice. That was because I was in a hurry AND I'm hopeless at reading patterns - both sewing and knitting.

But I did finally manage to finish up sewing on the skirt in one day. And I even went a step beyond with the finishing and sewed bias binding over the waist seam. I know I should also tidy up the bodice and skirt seams, but the fabric includes a bit of stretch lycra (or spandex), so is unlikely to fray much. My perfectionist instincts have definite limits.

I still need to hem the skirt and attach the hook-and-eye closures to the side tabs. The pattern advised hanging the dress for 24 hours before hemming, to allow the bias-cut skirt fabric to stretch out. I probably didn't really need to do this because of the lycra, but I figured I could use a bit of a break from all that sewing.



Tuesday, 7 August 2012

Vintage Vogue

I grew up wearing clothes sewn by my mother. I suppose some people would have hated this, but I loved having a mother who sewed. As I got older and began to appreciate fashion, I started to pick out my own patterns, commissioning my mother to make the garments I wanted. Eventually I was given the task of cutting out the fabric and doing the hand-finishing. But she never taught me to use the sewing machine - probably because it never seemed necessary since she was so very competent.

Unfortunately, I now live an ocean and a bit away from my mother, so I have to do my own sewing. I'm still infinitely less competent than her. I've probably only sewn about a dozen or so garments to date, so I haven't had nearly enough practice yet to know what I'm doing, but I muddle through somehow.

When I moved to the UK I took along a few of my old patterns, including one of my absolute favourites, an Issey Miyake pattern from the 1980s. My mother had made the sarong skirt for me twice - once for high school and once for college.

Vogue Individualist 1693

For some reason this summer I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to have that skirt again, and it had to be in this summer's colour, navy blue.

I found a heavy navy blue Irish linen in a shop in the Lake District (there being no fabric shops in Oxford, I take the opportunity to fabric shop whenever it arises).

The weekend following my return I cut out the pattern. The pattern is so vintage it is an old size 10, about a US size 4 these days. I was worried it would be bit too small, so I added about a centimeter to the seam ends and hoped that would do it (this being a wraparound sarong style, perfect fit is not essential).

I was all ready to start sewing, but to my chagrin I discovered that I only had the first page of the instructions, and no idea how to assemble the pieces! All those years ago when my mother put away the pattern pieces the instructions must have been misfiled, probably with another pattern that she was working on at the time.

My mother was on holiday so I couldn't ask her to look through her pattern collection. Anyway, it was unlikely she would be able to find it - she's gone through many moves since I was in college, and she has a very large sewing room. So I did what anyone in the 21st century would do - turned to the internet.

I didn't have much luck at first - there were several listings for the pattern on ebay, but the sales had already been made. I was beginning to despair, but then I found someone on flickr who had photographed the cover and first page of the pattern notes. I hoped she would have the whole pattern, and emailed to ask if she would be willing to photograph the rest for me.

She turned out to be a craft star, and posted the images on her flickr stream the next day!

It took me several more weeks to find the time to work on the skirt, and several weekends of sewing, but I finally finished it up on Sunday. I learned some new techniques, with mixed success. My first buttonhole was a catastrophe, so I did the rest manually. But I was very pleased with my first flat felled seam. And it fits perfectly.



Since I managed the skirt so well, I'm now feeling motivated to do some more sewing. At the fabric shop where I bought the linen I also picked up a real vintage pattern, a Vogue reprint of a 1954 design. It is another wrap-around - a dress this time (so I can avoid the dreaded zipper). Time to go get more fabric and keep on sewing  (I'll try to find something other than navy).

Vogue pattern V8788


Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Knit-free Mondays

I recently started Springboard, a women's development course. The main impetus is to help me develop my career, but the first meeting has mostly just motivated me to get my free time organised. First things first.

The programme is all about identifying what kinds of activities satisfy you, determining your goals, and then setting (and following!) progressive steps to achieve these goals. I already know what activities I find satisying (knitting, reading, embroidery, gardening, blogging, traveling etc...), I just need to find time to do more of those activities. Since I'm not one to sit around doing nothing, I don't actually have any spare time, so I've come to the conclusion that the only way to carve out more time for other activities is to stop knitting so much. Hence, knit-free Mondays.

During a usual weekday I can spend up to 5 hours knitting, so if I stop knitting for even one day, that would give me a good chunk of time to accomplish other goals. Like my New Year's resolutions.

So, on my first knit-free Monday this week I dragged out the Bayeux Tapestry embroidery section that I started back in 2007. This is actually my second Bayeux Tapestry embroidery. The first section I completed in about 6 months - but that was before I started knitting. My husband convinced me to do another one for his future office, and I started with good intentions, but soon set it aside when I became a knitting addict (convincing myself I had plenty of time as my husband wasn't likely to get an office any time soon). But now it is four years later, and he is applying for full-time academic posts, so it really is high time I finish - it just wouldn't do for him to start a new job without a section of the Bayeux Tapestry for work!*

Here Duke William and his army came to Mont St Michel.
And here they crossed the river Cuesnon.
Here Earl Harold pulled them out of the sands.

For those of you not familiar with this amazing textile, the Bayeux Tapestry is a nearly 70-metre long embroidery depicting the events leading up to the Norman conquest of England, featuring William, duke of Normandy and Harold, earl of Wessex, later king of England, and culminating in the Battle of Hastings (1066 and all that). It consists of some fifty scenes with Latin captions, embroidered on linen with woollen yarns in six colours. It  was probably commissioned by Bishop Odo, William's half-brother, and made in England in the 1070s. It is now exhibited at the Musée de la Tapisserie de Bayeux in Bayeux, Normandy.

I purchased the embroidery kits at the museum, and they are also available online from Bayeux Broderie. The kits include the printed linen fabric, wool and a plan, though I referred to a book to make sure I got the colours right. The embroidery instructions were not included, but I'm familiar enough with embroidery techniques and managed to muddle my way through.

Later on, while we were living in Normandy, I met an expert in the technique, which the French call Viking embroidery. I discovered I had done my first embroidery in reverse order - you are supposed to do the outline, or stem stitch first (making sure you put the needle through the hole made by the previous stitch), then go back and fill in with couching, or laid work. The embroidery on my second section is much better (and more authentic) as a result.

closeup of embroidery techniques

After I'm done with the big panel I'll have to finish up the Bayeaux Tapestry alphabetaire which I also started (unfortunately not all the letters seem to match their associated image, but it is a sweet little thing nonetheless).

At least they got C is for Chameau


And for the days I am allowed to knit, I've started another of my New Year's resolutions - my first lace shawl design.


Lace swatch in Old Maiden Aunt grellow merino/silk 4ply


If I'm really successful with this time management thing, maybe I'll actually be able to accomplish all of this year's resolutions and add new ones for next year. Like designing a quilt with the quilting fabric I bought at the V&A Quilts: 1700 - 2010 exhibit.


Limited edition collection of 18 printed quilting fabrics


On the other hand, do I really need yet another hobby?

* My husband studies ducal Normandy and the ecclesiastical history of northern France in the High Middle Ages. So the Bayeux Tapestry, and Normandy references in general, are pretty de rigueur in our household.