Month: October 2012
First Voluntary Project – Fifth Installment
This chrysanthemum is outlined, like the other, in Whipped Stem Stitch, but in this case the filling is Cretan Stitch, quite widely spaced. I rather like the slightly rippling effect this creates, but the stitches perhaps needed to be just a little more closely packed to make the ripple a bit stronger. The calyx is rows of coral stitch, and the stems of those strange little buds are the very first appearance in my work of one of my favourite stitches – Cable Chain Stitch.
The vase is worked in Brick Stitch, and since the fabric is a heavy square weave it was easy to do as a counted stitch – easier than when I worked the Prince’s Steed in the Persian Fantasy!
The foot of the vase is in closely-packed blanket stitch, and the ornamentation is Whipped Chain Stitch. I think if I were to be working it like this now, I would continue the brick stitch down the stem of the vase and leave out the whipped chain. But after all, it was my first solo project…
Naturally this won’t be going on display anywhere, but it’s been fascinating to revisit it, and try to remember what I chose and why. There wasn’t much of the why, but I’ve enjoyed looking at my experiments, anyway!
Worth A Visit – The Jersey Occupation Tapestry
Regular readers will know that I like large projects for myself; it won’t have been so obvious that I am interested in community or group projects as well. Not just the stitching, but the inspiration, organisation, management and quality control necessary to bring such projects to a successful conclusion.
And make no mistake – quality control can be a serious issue. Often you will hear it suggested that volunteers can’t be expected to do good work, or that, because they are volunteers, anything they produce, however sloppy, should be accepted with enthusiasm and gratitude.
Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t agree. Volunteers should be expected to want to do well, and to practise to make sure that they do.
The volunteers who stitched the Jersey Occupation Tapestry were asked to stitch sample pieces before starting on the real thing. The twelve panels of the Tapestry are worked entirely in Basketweave Tent stitch, which is an easy stitch – but that very simplicity means that there are no textural variations available to hide variations in technique. So all the stitching had to be right. And it was.
The panels were designed by a curator at Jersey Heritage, who then drew out the designs on canvas and marked the thread colours for each element. In the case of seas, skies and such sections, he suggested a range of colours and allowed the stitchers to use their own artistic skills to bring those elements to life. If you look at the photos, I think you’ll agree that his faith in them has been triumphantly justified.
The Jersey Occupation Tapestry Gallery is part of the Maritime Museum in St Helier, and was worked to commemorate the Liberation of the Channel Islands in 1945. Unlike some textile galleries, they don’t mind photographs being taken, although as the panels are displayed behind glass, flashes would be counterproductive as well as unpopular! The display includes some details about Albert Bedane, and a video about the making of the tapestry. Some of the stitchers were children on the island during the Occupation, and some of their memories are included in the designs.
Altogether I had a fascinating time, and can recommend it highly!
Another Needlework Nibble – the Butterfly Pinpad
There is yet another Needlework Nibble available from Thistle Threads! This involves a particularly fine gold thread, and some stranded silk.
This one is a tiny butterfly, outlined in gold, highlighted in pale green silk, and then finished as a pinpad. I have discovered in the past two years that I really enjoy working these little pieces, and they are a great way to find out about different threads, stitches or techniques without being entirely overwhelmed by the scale of the project.
I’m suffering from tennis elbow at the moment (owing to the housework, not the embroidery!), so I am particularly interested in smaller projects that allow me to make visible progress in short spans of time. I thought that this might be one of them, but actually the stitches are so hair-raisingly small that I’m no longer sure that is the case.
The stitches are only a couple of millimetres long, and with my arm in its present state, what you see here is the result of two half-hour sessions!
Crock of Gold Hoard – Those Wretched Shadows!
When you last saw the Crock of Gold Hoard (here), it included some highly unsatisfactory shadows, and my mother and myself had pounding headaches and crossed eyes from deciphering the original photograph.
It took several hours of frustrating, painstaking unpicking, aided by tweezers, but I managed, and then started on the ground while I pondered the shadows. There are some sticks or something on the ground, and I want the ground to look sandy and speckled so I’m going to use seed stitches to create the sandy, gravelly look.
There followed still more headscratching, sketching and puzzling (including experiments with photo-editing and watermarking on my tablet computer – that’s why there are two different copyright notices in this post!),
This example isn’t quite right – the shadow of the pot isn’t long enough, but it does demonstrate quite clearly that I’ve decided to simplify the shadows very considerably.
Since I’m removing the archaelogist and his hands, as well as the confusing shadow of the post which is out of the picture, I’ve decided I might as well simplify as many of the other shapes as I can. As I’ve said before, I’m not a needlepainter, and I’m not aiming for complete realism. Still, getting the shadows right will do much to make the design seem realistic enough.
I’m sure the detail of the shadows will change, but I’ve now drawn in an outline of those simplified shadows in chalk. I’ve even remembered that the pot has shoulders and a raised rim.
Crock of Gold Hoard – Problems with Shadows
I mentioned in my last post that I was somewhat troubled by the question of the shadows that I need to have in this picture to “anchor” the Crock and its lid in space. Since the silk I used for the Crock has a sheen, my original idea was to try to find a matte thread to help keep the shadows in the background.
I had three dark, “shadowy” colours in a linen thread, and tried those first. I wasn’t happy either with the colours (too dull and drab for shadows cast by an Egyptian sun) or the texture (rough and scratchy), so I tried a soft lilac-y blue stranded cotton, couched down with a darker blue. That was better, but not really dark enough.
So this on the left was my next attempt. I like the shading effect and depth of colour that I’ve managed to achieve, but I can already tell that the shape of the shadow is absolutely wrong.
So I packed it up, and took my problems to my mother, who is an artist, and has a much more practised analytical eye than I have.
At which point, we realised that the shadows were rather more difficult even than I’d thought.
A lot more difficult! The amber arrows indicate (approximately) what appear to be two conflicting light sources. Since the ground appears to be uneven, this must be a photo taken on site during the excavation. The vertical green arrow in the top left corner is pointing at a shadow which is clearly of something on top of a pole somewhere out of the picture. The other green arrow points to shadows show that the ground underneath the lid isn’t as even as a careless glance would at first suggest.
I’ve got a lot of unpicking to do!