Author Talk on ‘Inspiring Designs for Needlepoint’ 3rd November 2005
This book began life in an old exercise book labeled ‘Needlepoint Notes’. It became a sporadically recorded collection of insights and ideas, as well as a diary of work in progress. It was begun sometime in the year 2000, but its genesis was in the last hours of 1999.
Around Sydney harbor a spectacular New Year’s Eve party welcomed in the year 2000. On the harbor sailed gorgeous lantern floats of sea creatures, while bands played and fire works that cost millions rounded off the festivities. I’m sorry to say I wasn’t there. But there were compensations. My darling husband and children were asleep. I had a warm blanket to keep out the chill of the Blue mountains, a whole panettone, an open bottle of spumante and an old, grainy, colour tv.
For months before this I had been looking for a new canvas to stitch. I enjoy stitching, and somehow I feel it justifies the time spent watching TV in the evening. Up till now, my evening’s work had resulted in many pieces of children’s clothing, from hand knitted woolen sox (that had been made at a time when I could not find pure wool sox in children’s sizes) to Shirts for my sons,( when there were only T shirts and grunge fashions on sale) and hand smocked dresses, for my daughter. With 27 different outfits, her wardrobe was full.
A new canvas would be fun to do, but what I found were designs that had been produced for over 20 years. What was on sale seemed stale, some of it was cloyingly juvenile, while the vast bulk of it was a jumble of old masters, some quite attractive, but with a remorseless European heritage. I want something new, a canvas that reflected my understanding of the world and Australia the country of my birth. I began to think back to my first experiences using a canvas and needle.
In the beginning…
Somewhere around the age of15 I found an answer to the tedium of sweltering heat and swarms of vicious mosquitoes that heralded the start of the long summer school holidays and made any sort of gardening or outdoor pursuit a trial. Whilst trailing after my mother who was bargain hunting in the Christmas sales, I come to rest against a sale table of odd sized remnants of kakhi coloured canvas. Scattered amongst them was a tumble of woolen skeins, well mixed and picked over, the lovelier colours already plundered, with dark hued grays, greens and purples a-plenty. The wool was soft and glossy. I picked first one skein then another. Here was the sky, a rude blue, these browns the coat of a horse; and a hand full of greens for the grass and trees. All on sale and cheap, very, very cheap! Pocket money, soon gone. Great!
Back home, I realized that I had ignored one central question. "How the hell do I sew with this? " Darling mother was no help. The font of all knowledge, a political animal and domestic arts nightmare, she was unhappy with this new hobby. My ears rang with her disapproval, ''Clare, only fools cook and sew!".
But I loved the feel of the wool, and the stubby needle, so cut the canvas in two and drew a foal in biro on it and started to stitch. When I finished the first picture, the next was, again drawn in biro. This was another horse, one that galloped past trees that were a concoction of the colours I had left. These first efforts are here to day (point to them) and like all first attempts they are rough and uneven. They were stitched in the hand , that is to say without a frame, as I did not have the money to purchase one. A circumstance, that was indeed fortunate, as I have never seen the need for one. Meanwhile I saved my pocket money as I now wanted a ‘proper’ canvas with a printed design.
In retrospect that was the best start to have, for without a teacher I had the freedom to learn a different set of skills and solve the problems that accompany creating designs.
It also took me back in time to the pre industrial beginnings of canvas work, which is the term that tapestry and needlepoint should strictly speaking be known by. Here the designs were first drawn on canvas; by an artist if you were wealthy, or copied from a book if you were mearly well off. The choice of colours and threads was yours, and this in turn was of course limited by what the market had on offer. From the mid 1800’s the introduction of counted charts and printed canvases coincided with the introduction of new dyes of unseen intensity and resulted in the Victorian obsession of Berlin Wool Work.
So, as I sat watching the floating lanterns of sea creatures sail around the Harbour, and wishing that someone would design a canvas that could capture this moment, I realized that only way this would happen would be if I drew my own designs again.
I soon found the pleasure of painting a canvas was addictive. There are so many ideas and themes to use. Thus without a background in art, or a significant knowledge of art history I was left with just a pencil and paper and my imagination. The canvases from this period were large and fun, and there’s years, and years, and years, of stitching in them! ( put up the 3 examples)
There was one small matter of time and size. A busy mother does not have the time to commit to large canvases, nor wish to carry a bulky extra bag containing her large needlepoint canvas.
The answer was to work on small canvases, but with designs that had a big impact. They could be completed quickly, were easily portable, extremely lightweight and cool to work in warm weather. There was also an economy of needs, not much thread and not much canvas was needed.
Now, having completed several works in this form I can appreciate the more complex nature of this task. Historically, hand sized art works were the possessions of the elite. In the world before the printing press, money and power created and nurtured the artists and artisans who produced them. These works of great beauty and significance are found in many cultures. They range from the miniatures of the Mogul Empire to the ornate pages of Medieval Velum manuscripts, where the bijou pictures and gothic creatures marked each page as an individual at a time when page numbers had not been invented.
[1] In this compact artistic form the viewer is enticed into the world of the miniature and held by the complexity of the image, its shadows, the subtle use of colour and texture.
Just as an engrossing novel can consume your present world, 'reading' an artwork can rescue you from your inner voice with its daily concerns. Creating an artwork through the act of stitching it into existence, can massage the mind, untangle tension, soothe fear and leave you at peace. Many very busy people are draw to the design called Misty Mountains. Sketched in between lessons, its sense of peace was the antidote to a day of anxiety that the words, casual teaching, unfamiliar high school, Friday and year 8, can conjure.
In creating a range of designs for this book several ideas where focused on. The first was to have designs that would suit a reader who had never stitched by hand before, and thus need a small, simple project that was adult in taste, i.e. Tiny Treasure.
The second was to have a variety of designs with colours and styles that could match a wide range of home décor and personal taste. Hence Bacchus with its classical look, The Fire Wheel tree with its modern hot colours, and Summer Escape with its postcard romanticism.
A third was to allow as much freedom to the reader in terms of how they used the designs. By returning to the original method of tracing a design on to the canvas, rather than by using a counted chart with its defined starting point, more flexibility and choice is achieved.
The pattern goes straight on to the canvas so the design can be viewed as a whole work. This allows you a greater choice as to where you will begin, and in the order of sections you chose to work. However for the designs rated as ‘advanced’, I would suggest that readers follow the order of work, as some skill in stitching and complexity in thread mixing is required.
Tracing also brings your individuality to the fore, as the line you drew is interpreted as you stitch. This is part of the absorbing nature of stitching that I mentioned earlier.
I view my work is a guide, for even with the simplicity of Tiny Treasure, which uses two circles in a square as its design base, it is the reader who contributes their own distinctive touch when working the stamens and French knots.
A further benefit of tracing is that all the outlines can be enlarged on a photocopier if a larger canvas mesh size is desired or a different purpose is envisaged for the design. Hence the Silk and Gold Telopea could be enlarged, stitched on a 10 count canvas and used as a cushion.
Tracing a design also invites the possibility of painting it. This extra step, is worth the effort. A painted canvas looks beautiful and to the viewer fills out the whole of the image, so they can appreciate the unstitched areas too. Directions and information on how to paint your canvas are provided in chapter 2. I would encourage everyone to experiment and create their own original canvas. This could well be the needlepoint that future generations of your family and society, hold especially valuable; as it reflects an entirely original, creative work that has a provenance and a history.
Underlying these main ideas is how to create new colours and textures through a careful choice of thread. What I call ‘thread blending’ is frequently used in design. This is the use of two different types of thread, or colours stitched as one. For example, silk and wool stitched as one results in a texture that has a pleasing, but subtle unevenness.
Thread blending is also used to create new colours, where a mixture of 2 different tones are used, as well as to build a gradual progression from one colour to another. This is seen most frequently in the landscapes, as the colour of the sky changes from the top of the picture to the horizon.
I often feel that colour is everything in needlepoint. All of the designs have directions that take the reader progressively through the project, however from personal experience and observation, it’s the colour we feel most attracted to that is stitched first. Thus colour and thread take precedence in this book, and stitches a secondary role. Seen from a distance it’s the colours and the image that we read first and only when we are very close can we fully enjoy the patterns found in creative stitching. Keeping the emphasis on the image and using restraint when selecting stitch patterns is necessary when working with small scale works. If there is too much to see then the picture becomes a jumble of information that lacks unity. The background to Toute Petite reflects this lesson. The central area just behind the 3 small jars uses a thread blend to produce the texture of Thai silk, while the woven canvas around it is partially stitched with a quick and easy pattern to mimic a woven bamboo screen. These elements do not detract from the central image of the jars but work as a stage set for them.
Creating these designs takes a great deal of thought and stitching. The sketch on the pad serves as a guide that will be tweaked and re drawn as it is stitched. Some designs go through the trial and error process, stitched and then unpicked and stitched again. (with 2 thoroughly blunt stitch riper tools to date!). In the White Waratah, the flowers were stitched and unpicked twice then left for a year before I felt ready to tackle them again. Bacchus is the result of two earlier versions that both showed promise, while Rainforest exists in 2 versions present to day.
I often start with a picture in my mind of how the finished work should look, or may be just some part of it. The next stage may start with a sketch and then gather a selection of colours that meld well and suit the image. However, sometimes life hits you with an experience, or presents you with a subject that you cannot ignore. Gondwanaland was one of these. I had never seen a violet coloured fossil until one was featured in a story broadcast on Quantum, it was so beautiful. I have no idea what the story was about as my young tribe were creating their usual mayhem in front of the TV, while I cleaned up after their dinner.
But the colours of that stone; stunning!
The next day I chose and recorded a list of colours that would work with the shades of violet the stone needed. Drawing the stone was unsuccessful until I scrambled down into an excavation on a nearby building site and found a piece of shale to base a sketch of the fossil on. The idea for a leaf came from research in Willoughby library. It was easy to draw and had a form that with long stitch would give the desired sense of an imprint in the mudstone.
Around the stone the surrounding area had to reflect two ideas. First, was the idea of the rainforests where this large tree grew and second, was the scale of time from then until now. Hence the crocodile, which has survived while the dinosaur has not and its depiction in a simple x –ray like form that pays homage to the art of the Aboriginal nation.
The next stage was to add an ocher border that extended the picture and like a time line, brought the viewer to the present, where the landscape is rocky and dry. The thread colours blend from a hot red, to a hazy and eventually blue sky. On top of this is the salt bush and herbage, it‘s patterning and clusters of French knots mimic the view from above, as if seen from the air.
I don’t want to think about how many French Knots there are in that picture, but I really couldn’t help myself ….. but eventually I did stop.
Each of the works in this book have stories, and to tell all of them would take a while longer. But writing and stitching does not take place in a vaccum, and although a first book can seem a very lonely pursuit, there are many people who helped me. Perhaps the best way to list them is in chronological order. My own little family- thanks for helping with the computer, and patiently waiting until I had finished. Could you kindly extend this courtesy to each other? Also, thank you for providing unbiased critical evaluations of my work, and agreeing not to use my embroidery scissors on your models.
To my husband John thank you for so much support, patience and tolerance of my desire to follow this path in life.
To my niece Felicity, who happily typed the needlepoint notes on to disc for me
For the encouragement and support of the Tapestry Guild of Australia
To Sydney Sewing Supplies pty for their interest and encouragement
Madeira threads for their generosity with their beautiful range of threads
To my editors Julia Collingwood who found, trimmed and molded the book from a rambling collection of 23 projects to neat and handsome selection of 15, and Gillian Gillet whose background in craft made her the ideal sleuth to nail those random typos in the thread lists.
To Willoughby Library for hosting this book launch. Thank you Francis for your delightful introduction,
Margaret Gaunt and her team of Natalie, Margaret Mak and Anjie. Also Alisa and Nicole.
And finally thank you all for coming to day, your presence has made this a very rich reward for all my work, (but please buy the book, as that way I can promise you a second collection.)
[1] Christopher De Hamel, The British Library Guide To Manuscript Illumination, 2001, The British Library London.
