1st half: 1950’s Singer.
2nd half: Riccar and eventually a second-hand Viking.
3rd half: Riccar, second-hand Viking, Brother Nouvelle 1500s, 1950’s Singer, Singer Model 15 — treadle machine made in 1896, same year my grandmother was born.
06/02/2010
1st half: 1950’s Singer.
2nd half: Riccar and eventually a second-hand Viking.
3rd half: Riccar, second-hand Viking, Brother Nouvelle 1500s, 1950’s Singer, Singer Model 15 — treadle machine made in 1896, same year my grandmother was born.
05/02/2010
The colours in a walnut grove on US 52 were so beautiful — dun, and olive, and fawn tones in the walnut grove; blue sky; crimson scrub maple — that I just had to stop and take some photos. As I was walking back and forth and snapping away on the south-bound verge of US 52, a big, red pick-up pulled a U-turn from the northbound lanes onto the median. A cowboy looking fellow got out and walked towards me. I briefly wondered if he were the owner of the walnut grove and planning to argue with me about photographing it. Nope, he was just a nice guy who was concerned that my car had broken down. I thanked him and he doffed his cowboy hat and got back in his truck and pulled away. In addition to the colours, what caught my attention was the way the grid of walnut trees shifted as I walked up and down (this is a phenomenon I’ve seen many times driving past the rows of corn or stubble here in flat farmland), and how the blazing rogue scrub maple impertinently insisted on being the center of things no matter how the grid shifted .
So I had my pictures, I loved the colours but the pix themselves were, well, kinda blah. They certainly didn’t convey the movement and drama I experienced in person and that my mind’s eye wanted to recreate.
So I played around with it in Photoshop, and cropped, and made new images and tweaked the colour a little, and paced, and imagined being a smoker and smoking, and went downstairs to find the right frame — and thus know the size — for this piece, and printed out some greyscale fast draft images and blocked it out.
When I had some idea of where the piece was going I printed several of the selected images onto the silk habotai. I refined my lay-out and started looking for background fabric. I found the perfect dupionni silk, but I had only 2/3 of yard of it… So I became stingy and made life difficult, and carefully cut strips to be placed where I need “background”, instead of just cutting a full-sized piece. Fiddly, but sometime when I want that exact silk again, I’ll be glad I took the trouble.
Once I put it all together I contemplated the stitching options. I made up a sample to try stitches on. I found the perfect crimson silk buttonhole twist in my collection of vintage Belding Corticelli threads given to me years ago by a client.
I loaded the sewing machine bobbin with the stuff. First I tried some tight free-motion loop-de-loop stitches, stitching from the back. Nope! Then I noticed how the buttonhole twist was being drawn up and my lightbulb went on. What I wanted for this was a whip-stitch! In free-motion machine-stitching parlance a whip-stitch is when you tighten the top tension and loosen the bobbin tension enough so that instead of getting a nice balanced stitch where the join of the two threads is hidden in the fabric (which is what you want in a seam), the bobbin thread gets pulled to the surface and shows, perhaps even loops.
The feed-dogs are the little teeth that come up from the bottom of the sewing machine and push the fabric along from front to back. If you drop them so they don’t engage the fabric you can control which direction the fabric moves — back, forth, sideways, in circles.
It was great, except… The top thread kept breaking. And jamming. And breaking. I walked away for a bit, paced, and came back and tried a different sewing machine. This was the answer!
And tomorrow I’ll probably have to introduce you to my sewing machines and explain why I keep them all around!
04/02/2010
A writer friend [ http://reallivewriter.blogspot.com/ ] had asked me whether one of my Flotsam & Jetsam pieces would be displayed… http://ietextiles0manninghamilton.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/death-mask-for-an-owl/#comments and now the answer is “yes”.
The little Flotsam&Jetsom owl begged to become part of the piece I was making with inkjet on silk prints of the dead owl photo. We negotiated, and came to an agreement; after all, the owl was in good proportion to the size of the piece, and the colours went well together (parameters and limitations), I found some beautiful gold silk dupionni salvaged from a thrift store skirt. That became the background for the mosaic of prints on silk, and I added silk yarns from it to the tassels on the owl. One tassel is attached with a lark’s-head knot to one of the wistaria twigs and one is knotted as part of the headdress. I draped a third set of yarns on the owl’s right arm, not yet knotted, for use in the next world.
After I was satisfied with the arrangement of the prints and had them spray-basted in place, I began the machine stitching. The purposes of this were two-fold — one, the stitching holds everthing together. Sure I could use a glue stick, but… I’m a fiber artist and simply gluing or fusing fabric together seems simplistic and boring to me. Two, the stitching adds subtle line and texture to give depth to the whole composition.
Once the stitching was done I pressed the whole thing gently and then did the fiddly bit of attaching the Flotsam&Jetsom owl. Essentially I hand-sewed it on with embroidery floss:
The parameters and limits, my mind’s eye, and the materials pushed and pulled at the process; the parts became a whole: Death Mask for an Owl
04/02/2010
And finally, I wanted a couple of pieces made on the smallish scale possible with my home office type double-back-flip 8 1/2 inch wide inkjet printer to present as supporting documentation for my grant request for funds to buy a larger-format, straight-paper-path printer that can more easily handle non-traditional substrates (printing surface, in this case, fabric).
I decided to start with two of the photos I took in the fall:
I cropped various parts of of the photos, and printed images on 8mm habotai silk. In addition to the NICHES requirements, I had the limitation of not being able to make prints larger than legal size paper, 8.5 x 14
The tall picture of the trees on the right is approximately 13″ long.
I then fooled around with the composition of the two different pieces — you can see some of that process going on here: http://ietextiles0manninghamilton.wordpress.com/2010/01/27/beginning-to-compose-in-textile-art/ . For economy of both time and expense, I imposed the further limitation of using frames I already had on hand, one 16″x 20″ and one 18″”x 14″.
Then the pacing began — look at composition, imagine being a smoker and smoking, rearrange, think about stitching, pace some more… poke through fabric stash to find background material… imagine being a smoker and smoking… spray-baste background material and start finalising composition…
Lather, rinse, repeat.
02/02/2010
[You can see the original photo at http://ietextiles0manninghamilton.wordpress.com/2009/11/15/332/]
Yesterday I completed the relatively complicated application to fund an Individual Artist’s Project Grant from the Indiana Arts commission.* I thought that having completed that, it would be easy-peasy to upload some of the same images and send them off to the NICHES Land Trust to be juried for their show. Nooooooo….. Why the hell would two different entities want their digital “slide” submissions formatted the same way?????
As I said in my grant application, “I am finding it somewhat ironic that formatting the artistic documentation for this project has been such a struggle, since one of the two main goals for the project is to make such documentation for future grant and exhibit applications, client presentations, and other marketing events much easier.”
The art world will make many, many people happy when it finally agrees on a standard format!
27/01/2010
Now that I can coax the printer through the process, I have printed enough owl imagery that I can really work on the first piece I plan to submit to the NICHES art exhibit: http://www.nicheslandtrust.org/NICHES_Land_Trust/Welcome.html
I am using various of the owl inkjet to compose a mosaic that will be the background for mounting the Death Mask for an Owl flotsam and jetsam piece. I’m excited, and I think I can pull this rabbit out of its hat in time.
I’ve had to let the Death Mask for an Owl roost in the octopus light in my studio so it isn’t murdered by the cat…
27/01/2010
Silk is so nice — it really does rustle, the way you read about in Jane Austen. It feels wonderful. And I’VE FIGURED IT OUT. I can run it through my printer, even though said printer is a perfectly nice HP front loader that does the potentially-jam-inducing double back flip.
So I’ve been working in Photoshop with the pictures I took of the poor dead owl; see http://ietextiles0manninghamilton.wordpress.com/2009/11/21/owl-rip/, cropping, and rotating, and changing sizes.
I have ever so carefully printed them out on natural white silk habotai: http://www.thaisilks.com/product_info.php?cPath=1_2&products_id=16
This involves tearing it into rectangles just smaller than 81/2 x 11, ironing each rectangle with care and taping the leading edge carefully all the way across the top of the paper. Then I lay one face down in the paper-tray. After fiddling the images to maximise the use of the page, I set the printer settings for high quality printing (usually I’m a fast and economical girl!), hit “print”, and quickly start bowing and scraping in front of the printer.
The prints are beautiful. Here are a couple of pix, but it’s hard to capture the sheen and colour and fluidity of the actual print.
27/01/2010
20/01/2010
I’ve spent time yesterday testing the properties of the two kinds of silk I got from Thai Silks (see http://ietextiles0manninghamilton.wordpress.com/2010/01/13/getting-the-art-back-on-track-or-g-d-of-thunder/). I’m experimenting with layering them over photographs which I will then stitch on. Now I need to gird my loins and try to calmly (!) see if I can reasonably expect to be able to send the stuff through my printer or whether it will jam every time.
Here are some of the ’sperimental results:
Clockwise from top left: silk spray-basted onto inkjet print, a bit of stitching; inkjet transfer onto overlapped pieces of silk seen from the back!; silk fused to inkjet print using Heat’n'Bond; ditto, lighter weight silk.
The inkjet transfer uses the transfer paper usually used for decorating T-shirts and such, where the shiny transfer is what shows. The habotai silk is thin enough to see the image through the silk from the back which is an interesting effect.
18/01/2010
I grew up in a household where one of my mother’s mantras (she grew up with the Great Depression and WWII shortages) was “Use it up; wear it out; make it do or go without.” So by the time I reached my early teens I had learned not only how to make clothes, but mend them, or change a hemline, or buttons. There’s mending, then there’s mending. Sewing buttons back on, invisibly patching jeans from the inside, or letting toddlers’ overalls up and down is boring but necessary.
What’s more fun is fixing with a twist. One of the earliest times I did that was in high school. I grew too tall for my beloved navy blue, double-breasted princess-seamed wool maxi coat. So I bought some faux fur fabric in a soft grey, and new buttons. I lengthened the sleeves and over-all length by adding, oh, about three inches of the fur at the cuffs and hem. I used the fur to face the collar, and changed the buttons. It looked like a Russian countess’s coat out of Dr.Zhivago. I was studying Russian at the time and thought it was just perfect. Four years or so later I realised I had simply anticipated Yves St. Laurent’s “Russian Look”!
My most recent “fix with a twist” was a red lambswool cardigan whose neck binding had ripped partially off. I stitched it down, and then to hide the mend I covered it with a ruched charcoal-grey organdy ribbon which continued down the front edge. As I was working on it I noticed that, darn it, there were a couple of little moth holes also. So I used the rest of the ribbon to make rosettes to cover the mended moth holes. When I wore it to a couple of different holiday parties several people asked me where I had gotten it…