Studio Series: Naturally Dyed Hexagons WIP

Naturally dyed, hand-quilted hexagons WIP © Karen Thiessen, 2016

Hand-quilting my solids hexagons pillow cover gave me a "next step" for this naturally dyed hexagons textile. I pieced it about a year-and-a-half ago but didn't know what the textile needed next. The above textile is still a work-in-progress and I'm curious to know when another "next step" will announce itself and how the textile will evolve. This is one of my slow-to-resolve textiles, but once finished they are often worth the long incubation period (Here's an example of a problem child that was well worth the wait).

Woad!

Woad plant; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2016

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of touring textile artist and natural dye expert Thea Haines' natural dye garden. She grows all manner of colour-yielding plants. Of particular interest to me was this large clump of woad. The leaves yield an indigo blue dye.

Woad seeds; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2016

Thea has already collected the seeds for future woad crops. I look forward to seeing what depth of blue her plants yield.

In addition to natural dye plants, she is also growing a test plot of flax for an Upper Canada Fibreshed initiative. The goal is that the flax will be processed into fibre, and the UC Fibreshed is still working out the details of how to do this as there are no processing plants here in Canada. A few years ago, one of Sandra Brownlee's NSCAD textiles students grew a plot of flax in Sandra's Dartmouth garden. Naturally, Sandra crafted a beautiful low wattle fence to encircle it. I believe that the test plot was for the same initiative that Thea is involved in.

Studio Series: Zwieback screen prints

Zwieback screen prints a © Karen Thiessen, 2016

Early this year I set up my ironing table to be a print table. It's only five feet long, so I can only print small runs of textiles. Of my designs that I've printed so far, the Zwieback pattern is my favourite. It's looser and more open than my usual designs. Layering the prints in various colours has been fun. I'm printing on cotton fabrics that I dyed using plant stuffs: black walnut, avocado pits and skins, and honey locust bean pods.

Zwieback screen prints b © Karen Thiessen, 2016

Above is a printed textile in progress. I'm printing with Speedball fabric inks on cotton that was dyed with honey locust bean pods. On its own, the honey locust colour colour is rather bland, but is a nice backdrop to colours like off-white, mocha, and rust. I'm curious to see how the Zwieback prints change once I stitch them into tags or piece them into larger textiles.

Studio Series: Mennonite series tags

Mennonite series tags; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2016

Off and on, I've been playing with words and symbols of my Dutch German (Russian) Mennonite material culture for more than twenty years. Until I discovered the tag format I hadn't been able to pull it together. Above is a random assortment of the strongest tags pinned to my studio wall. I'll present them differently in a gallery setting with proper spacing, probably in a long line and I'll install them with specimen pins.

Mennonite series tags detail; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2016

I have over fifty completed Mennonite material culture tags, but only thirty work well together. The collection now has a voice and an aesthetic has emerged.

Mennonite series detail; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2016

As of this week I have thirty textile tags set up for stitching. The collection is growing. It's about time.

Studio Series: future tags + small disaster

Great Opa B's notes; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2016

Last fall my mom handed me an old cookie tin that contained documents belonging to my late great-grandparents. One item was an old notebook that my great grandfather kept. He wrote with a fountain pen and his hand-writing is elegant and beautiful. Unfortunately it's written in an old German script that I'm unable to read. I scanned a few pages and digitally printed them onto fabric. After rinsing the fabric, I painted it with washes of walnut ink and black tea. In a few days I'll rinse the fabric again and then stitch them. Working with my great-grandfather's words is very special.

To digitally print the text, I used C. Jenkins Miracle Fabric Sheets and they are best used for black-and-white images (colour is a bit washed out on them). I thought it would be cool to feed my own fabric through the printer, so I ironed grocery store freezer paper to fabric that I cut to size and fed it through the printer. Big mistake. The fabric came away from the freezer paper and wrapped around the printer's roller. Thankfully my very patient husband is mechanically adept. With great care he took the printer apart, fished out the fabric, and put it all back together and it works! I will never do that again. C. Jenkins sells a strong freezer paper, but I am not going to test fate (although I am slightly tempted).

Studio Series: Mennonite screen prints

Mennonite series Red Gate and threshing stone pattern screen prints; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2016

My ironing table doubles as a print table, but I've never used it to screen print. A first step in setting up the table was to clear the foot high piles of fabric that covered most of it. To accomplish this, I went through most of my fabric bins and did a significant purge so that the fabric on the ironing table finally had a proper home. Two friends will be the beneficiaries of my deaccessioned stash. 

I hadn't printed on fabric since my Sheridan days. My husband set up a hose in the laundry room sink so that I was able to wash my screens with enough pressure to prevent clogging. My husband held the screen while I printed. We make a great team. I printed on commercial and naturally dyed fabrics. The honey locust bean pod dyed fabric looks great printed with rust fabric ink.

Mennonite series Mulberry leaf pattern screen prints; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2016

While I was printing fabric, I printed some paper so that I can collage with it. What I learned from going through my bins was to buy and print fabrics in small, usable quantities. I print larger quantities of paper because collaging is more immediate than hand-stitching fabric.

Studio Series: natural dye pots

Copper boiler; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2015

My parents are down-sizing and my studio is the beneficiary of two of my mom's pots. I don't remember the copper boiler every being used when my parents had it, but now it holds five pounds of black walnuts, water, and fabric. It straddles two burners when I'm heating the dye liquor. The copper pot acts as a mordant. Note to self: unless it's empty, it's too heavy for me to lift on my own. But of course I lifted it anyway.

Iron pot; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2015

I have a vague recollection of mom buying the iron pot and a stand at an antique shop many moons ago. I think she planted red geraniums in it and it adorned our front lawn for a time. To my surprise, it's not as heavy as I previously believed. Like the copper boiler, it now holds five pounds of black walnuts, fabric, and water and the pot acts as a mordant. Apparently iron saddens and copper gladdens. A kind neighbour saved the black walnuts from her backyard tree and now I have about 40 pounds to play with. 

Life

I've been a bit quiet here in blogland. Real life has been rather busy with studio work, my printmaking class, a visiting artist talk and critique of student work at McMaster University School of the Arts, and more. My parents are in the process of down-sizing, so I now have an old copper boiler and a iron pot that I am dyeing fabrics in and with (pot as mordant). An ancient roll-top desk has taken up residence in my studio. The desk is a magical space that ignites my imagination. My mom also passed on some old family textiles and other family keepsakes (like my great-grandparents' notebooks and passports!!).

Dorothy Caldwell: Silent Ice/Deep Patience @ AGP 12

Dorothy Caldwell Comfort of Fog, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

The intimate textiles in this blogpost were situated in a cosy space with deep grey green walls. All five 14" X 18" textiles incorporate plant dyed cotton with stitching and appliqué and are mounted on industrial felt. The textiles diverge from Dorothy's bold palette: they are paler, earthy, and muted. Comfort of Fog is one of my favourite of these textiles. If you look closely, you see that she resist-dyed the background fabric. It reads like the aerial-view of a landscape.

Dorothy Caldwell Complementary Calls, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Complementary Calls is the lightest and subtlest of any Dorothy Caldwell textile that I have ever seen. It needs to be viewed alone to be appreciated.

Dorothy Caldwell Weapons/Listening & Waiting, 2012; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Like Complementary Calls, Weapons/Listening & Waiting is especially subdued.

Dorothy Caldwell textiles & books, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

History of Stone and Red Hill/Black Hill in situ.

Dorothy Caldwell History of Stone, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Dorothy Caldwell Red Hill/Black Hill, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Tonight this exhibition opens at the Cambridge Galleries in Cambridge, Ontario (now called the Idea/Exchange). Accompanying the show is Select Works: From the Permanent Collection at the Design at Riverside Gallery (just across the street from the main Cambridge Gallery and Library site). Both open at 7 pm.

Dorothy Caldwell Red Hill/Black Hill, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Dorothy Caldwell: Silent Ice/Deep Patience statement

"This space contains artifacts and objects that reflect the experiences working on site during travel and residencies in the Australian Outback and the Canadian Arctic.

As I walked through exceptional landscape, collecting and touching became a way of knowing. Preserving indigenous natural materials including plants, ochre, seaweed, lichen and stones is my way of examining the contents of a place. Man made findings include rusted metal, hewn wood, and even a cooking pot. Some of the collection remains intact as found. Other materials were stitched and altered or used to dye and colour fabric and paper. Creating taxonomies and displays from these collections transformed the objects into artifacts. They became the material history of my experience.

In the Flinders Ranges, stitched cloth was taken to the ochre pit to be worked with earth colour and to literally absorb "place". Rusty metal, collected as mordant for dyeing fabric, often did not make it to the dye bath. Instead the objects themselves became artifacts, holding information and history of early settlers in the area. Wire shapes from the camp in the Flinders Ranges read as a symbolic alphabet, signs of European settlement.

A hike into the Chambers Gorge in the Flinders Ranges revealed another alphabet predating the Europeans. Rock carvings, or petroglyphs, are thought to be over 30,000 years old. To see these ancient symbols made by humans touched me deeply. In honour of this experience, I inscribed my own simple marks on small stones collected at the site.

In the Canadian Arctic fieldwork included walking barefoot on the tundra. It was as if my feet were tracing an ancient forest. A small section of this dense mat was extracted, deconstructed, and documented. Tiny leaves, lichens, reindeer moss, willow and other plants make up the natural miniature pattern of the land.

Field studies include journals. One Australian journal records earth collected each day over a two-month period. A book from a different journey is made from samples of pressed seaweed. Others are constructed from paper dyed with local plants....eucalyptus, mistletoe, arctic willow, purple saxifrage, arctic lupin, and Labrador tea, each with its own subtle colour.

From my traveling companion and fellow artist India Flint, I learned to make string. String has great importance to Aboriginal women who make it and use it to construct netted dilly bags, baskets, and other containers. It is also used for string games and storytelling. Anthropologist C. P. Mountford worked in the Flinders Range in 1940 and described how when asked to draw traditional stories, aboriginal women preferred to tell their stories in string and then trace around them.

The activity of making string, like knitting, became second nature and kept my hands active on long rides through the Outback. The plied string, shown in the cases, is a receptacle for earth colours of Australia and the plant dyes from the Arctic.

The creation of a museum of memories from the experiences of the residencies in the Australian Outback and in the Canadian Arctic is an integral part of the process of imagining this exhibition. I brought cloth and paper to my sites, much as early explorers would bring journals and magnifying glasses. These materials were marked, coloured, and rubbed with daily experiences. At the same time, found objects were preserved, transported and rearranged in patterned memory of the importance of marks to reinforce ideas that will appear as textile art. This small museum is a glimpse into the process of the maker." –– Dorothy Caldwell.

All photos were taken with permission from Dorothy Caldwell and the fine staff of the Art Gallery of Peterborough. 

Dorothy Caldwell Silent Ice Deep Patience @ AGP 11

Dorothy Caldwell Walking on Tundra, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Walking on Tundra is 26"X 53" and is mounted on industrial felt. The acid green is the colour of moss.

Dorothy Caldwell Walking on Tundra, detail 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Fine and chunky stitching on appliqués. A dash of pink provides a complementary contrast to the acid green.

Dorothy Caldwell Quiet Place: Willow & Arctic Moss, 2012; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Quiet Place: Willow & Arctic Moss is another one of my favourites in this exhibition. Maybe one day I'll gather all my favourites in a separate blog post. Quiet Place is 23"X 23" and is mounted on industrial felt. It is a merging of Dorothy's signature wax and silkscreen resist with her new plant dyed textiles.

Dorothy Caldwell Quiet Place: Willow & Arctic Moss, 2012; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

This appliqué appears to be plant dyed.

All photos were taken with permission from Dorothy Caldwell and the fine staff of the Art Gallery of Peterborough.

Dorothy Caldwell Silent Ice/Deep Patience @ AGP 9

Dorothy Caldwell Collecting cards (journal); Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

In her 2003 In Good Repair solo exhibition at the Textile Museum of Canada Dorothy displayed several bound notebooks (along with white cotton gloves with which to handle them) in which she had made marks with ink and with burning/scorching. Collecting cards is a notebook in another form. One hundred and twelve cards are pinned to the wall with three-inch black specimen pins. The cards are about 2" X 3" and appear to be heavy cotton rag paper, similar to BFK Rives printmaking paper. The edges are nicely deckled and I wonder if Dorothy purchased the cards this way or if she moistened the heavy paper and then tore it against a sharp edge.

Dorothy Caldwell Collecting cards (journal); Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

The Collecting cards are small intimate studies that Dorothy stitched, wrapped, marked with earth ochre, ink, and appliquéd with plant material (leaves, small flowers).

Dorothy Caldwell Collecting cards (journal); Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Together they resemble an ancient alphabet.

Dorothy Caldwell Collecting cards (journal); Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Note the layers of shadows cast by the cards.

Dorothy Caldwell Collecting cards (journal); Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

A stitched leaf. Could it be eucalyptus?

Dorothy Caldwell Collecting cards (journal); Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Earth ochre, stitching, plant matter, and black charcoal marks.

Dorothy Caldwell Collecting cards (journal); Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Dorothy Caldwell Collecting cards (journal); Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

The middle card is adorned with either delicate plant matter or dead mosquitoes.

Dorothy Caldwell Collecting cards (journal); Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Collecting cards was one of my favourite parts of the exhibition. The cards are very personal and reveal the research and thinking behind Dorothy's new work.

All photos were taken with permission from Dorothy Caldwell and the fine staff of the Art Gallery of Peterborough.

Dorothy Caldwell Silent Ice/Deep Patience @ AGP 8

Dorothy Caldwell A Red Hill/A Green Hill, 2012; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

The Silent Ice/Deep Patience exhibition was a mix of Dorothy's signature wax and silkscreen resist textiles and some very new work influenced by her time in Australia with India Flint. A Red Hill/A Green Hill is the largest (9'4" X 9'8") of her new work and aesthetically is a significant departure from the work for which she is best known. This textile is paler, muted, is coloured with ink wash and incorporates earth ochre like the "five sisters textiles" that I wrote about in my first posts about this exhibition. Naturally, I'd like to know what kind of ink Dorothy used.

Dorothy Caldwell A Red Hill/A Green Hill, 2012; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

The above appliqué is one half of a monogrammed woman's handkerchief edged with Italian hemstitch that Dorothy stitched and coloured with earth ochre and ink.

Dorothy Caldwell A Red Hill/A Green Hill, 2012; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

A detail of Dorothy's earth ochre encrusted stitching.

Dorothy Caldwell A Red Hill/A Green Hill, 2012; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Here's the other half of the handkerchief with a closer peek at rust-coloured earth ochre.

Dorothy Caldwell A Red Hill/A Green Hill, 2012; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

The subtlety of the new work is evident in the above and next details. In contrast, Dorothy's signature textiles are densely patterned with screen printed and stitched marks, often dramatic, with notes of bright appliquéd fabric. A Red Hill/A Green Hill is fluid, painterly, and ethereal. I'd like to spend more time with it, perhaps when it travels to Cambridge Galleries early next year.

Dorothy Caldwell A Red Hill/A Green Hill, 2012; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Only in the hands of a master does subtlety register as powerful.

All photos were taken with permission from Dorothy Caldwell and the fine staff of the Art Gallery of Peterborough.

Dorothy Caldwell Silent Ice/Deep Patience @ AGP 7

Dorothy Caldwell Map without words, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

With dimensions a staggering 9'4" by 8'5", Map without words is monumental. For curators and some gallery goers, size matters, and this textile, as well as four others (that I will share in future posts) deliver. Dorothy lavishes each textile with such care and detail that it frustrates me that, unless the gallery provides a skyjack, I can't see it all up close and personal. A passage from Canadian mystery author Louise Penny's exquisite novel The Long Way Home helped me appreciate large scale a little more. Her principal character Armande Gamache is standing in the middle of a gallery filled with the paintings of Quebec artist Clarence Gagnon and is moved to tears: "Gamache turned. He was surrounded. Immersed. Not drowning, but buoyed. Baptized (Penny, 209)." Standing in the main space of the Art Gallery of Peterborough, I was immersed in the deeply sensitive work of Dorothy Caldwell. 

Dorothy Caldwell Map without words, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

I am grateful for the details in which I could revel. The above image of the midpoint of the textile, reveals that Map without words consists of four large quadrants of cotton imbued with wax and silkscreen resist, then finessed with sensitive stitching and appliqué.

Dorothy Caldwell Map without words, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Note the couched horizontal thread is a tonal gradation from white to black. Did Dorothy dye this herself? Probably.

Dorothy Caldwell Map without words, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

To capture this detail, I had to summon my yoga training and stretch high. Thank goodness I have some height in my favour. Dorothy's screen printed marks echo her stitching.

Dorothy Caldwell Silent Ice/Deep Patience, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Silent Ice/Deep Patience is 23" square. The drawn silkscreened grid was also used on Wet Lake/Dry Lake and Wandering Time.

Dorothy Caldwell Silent Ice/Deep Patience, 2013; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

This cluster of appliqué from the lower left hand side of the textile is a modern equivalent to Boro.

All photos were taken with permission from Dorothy Caldwell and the fine staff of the Art Gallery of Peterborough.

Dorothy Caldwell Silent Ice/Deep Patience @ AGP 6

Dorothy Caldwell Wandering Time, 2011; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Wandering Time and Wet Lake/Dry Lake hang together nicely, like sisters who get along well. A common silkscreen resist grid pattern as well as a dark on the left half/light on the right half composition unites them.

Dorothy Caldwell Wandering Time, 2011; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

As always, Dorothy's sensitive stitching blows me away. She balances fine and chunky stitching with aplomb.

Dorothy Caldwell Wandering Time, 2011; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Here's a proper look at the silkscreen resist printed grid. Dorothy drew each line of the grid by hand. No rulers or computers were involved.

Dorothy Caldwell Wet Lake/Dry Lake, 2011; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

No sizes were listed for Wandering Time or Wet Lake/Dry Lake. I would guess their dimensions to be 48 inches wide by 28 inches high.

Dorothy Caldwell Wet Lake/Dry Lake, 2011; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

Dorothy Caldwell Wet Lake/Dry Lake, 2011; Photo © Karen Thiessen, 2014

This harmonious arrangement of plain and patterned appliqué sang to me.

All photos were taken with permission from Dorothy Caldwell and the fine staff of the Art Gallery of Peterborough.