The Textile Blog

Viennese Art Nouveau Lace

2012-01-30T18:00:00.000Z

Illustration: Franziska Hofmanninger. Lace design, c1899.

Although lace work is often thought to be traditionally bound up with distinctive regions of Europe, it has also had a relatively recent history as a design led craft. The craft of lace has in fact been involved in a number of eras where it has been closely associated with distinctive decorative art periods, one of the most creatively inspiring and original of these would have to be that of the Art Nouveau.

The Art Nouveau decorative era which was at its height during the last decade of the nineteenth and first decade of the twentieth century, was a particularly creative period with many designers and decorators incorporating, either wholesale or at least elements of its individual style into their work. There was little that was not incorporated into the style and Art Nouveau ranged from architecture, through to ceramics, glass, metal, wood, graphics, illustration, wallpaper and textiles.

Illustration: Franziska Hofmanninger. Lace design, c1899.

As far as textiles was concerned Art Nouveau could be seen in all of the mainstream textile manufacturing outlets as well as in hand craft. Therefore, there was Art Nouveau styled printed, woven, embroidered and lace textiles which could be seen in finished articles in both costume and interior fabrics. On the whole, much of the output was highly creative and although there was a certain element of formulaic work, this seems to have been a smaller percentage of the textile output than would be expected.

Europe being a continent made up of a complex patchwork of sometimes widely differing cultures, regions and ethnic groups, it is not surprising that one decorative style should be interpreted in a variety of ways and this is true of Art Nouveau. The style was interpreted in Russia for example, differently than it was in Spain, and likewise what appeared culturally suitable in Finland was interpreted differently in Italy. It is not therefore surprising that in Vienna Art Nouveau should be interpreted yet again as a relatively distinct and independent decorative style separate from not only other areas of Europe, but indeed other areas and regions within the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

Illustration: Franziska Hofmanninger. Lace design, c1899.

The five examples shown in this article are of Art Nouveau inspired lace design from Vienna. Four were produced in about 1899, while one is slightly later and was produced in about 1902; they are therefore perfect candidates for the style. One designer produced the design work for all five pieces, and that designer was Franziska Hofmanninger who was an important figure in the expansion of Austrian lace into the contemporary world of Art Nouveau.

It has to be remembered that Art Nouveau was a style that many in Europe were suspect of and in some cases openly hostile to. The contemporary can often discomfit individuals and groups; hostility is often shown because of confusion, intransigence or just simply an unwillingness to accept the challenge of change and the refreshment of ideas. Art Nouveau was seen very much from the start as a passing fad, an affectation of the French imagination. However, the decorative style did not whither or simply go away, and the number of interpretations across Europe shows perhaps the strength of its creative adaptability, one that was hidden from some by its more obvious affectations.

Illustration: Franziska Hofmanninger. Lace design, c1899.

Hofmanninger chose to interpret, through lace, a series of delicate patterns largely based on floral motifs. While there is a certain element of languorous naturalism in her pattern work, much of the more overtly stylised interpretations found in the French and Belgian versions seem to be largely missing. While to a certain extent this could be seen as within the practicalities of the craft itself, it is also perhaps part of the differing style interpretation across Europe of the Art Nouveau movement. While Vienna was by no means denied the more overt styling that is synonymous with France and Belgium, there was perhaps less reliance on the super imposed affectation and more on the use of nature, and particularly floral work.

Some of Hofmanninger's slightly later lace design work - Lace Work of Franziska Hofmanninger - is a little more naturalistic than the pieces shown here and is perhaps a little more reminiscent of the decorative work of Gustav Klimt for example. This does not necessarily imply that Hofmanninger either copied or was inspired by Klimt, although she might well have been. It does perhaps suggest that there was a core intrinsic approach to Art Nouveau that seemed more natural to Austrians than to others. This would be seen as part, of not the fragmentary aspect of Art Nouveau, but its ability to adapt and reflect the cultural dimensions of regional Europe, something every good decorative design era needs to address in order to be considered successful.

Illustration: Franziska Hofamnninger. Lace design, c1902.

Art Nouveau, although seemingly short-term in its longevity, did in part, give life to the following European Art Deco movement. Art Nouveau itself has to be seen as a particularly successful and wide-ranging decorative style that breathed new creative life into many of the manufacturing and hand craft disciplines and launched a large proportion of creative careers, some of which stretched well into the twentieth century.

Further reading links:

The Role of Embroidered Alphabets

2012-01-25T18:34:00.000Z

Illustration: Embroidered alphabet, 1869.

Lettering and text have been used for centuries in the craft of embroidery. Sometimes it has been used in a relatively minor way, while at other times it has been at the centre of an embroidered piece, even to the point of defining a composition. Written language in a textile format can often date a piece of work and its maker by the sentiment of the message, but also by the style and construction of the individual letters that make up the message.

All of the alphabets shown in this article come from a period ranging from 1858 to 1869 and although, by embroidery standards, this is a very small moment in time, it does help to show that even though limited to a decade in time, the embroidered alphabets cover a significantly large range of individual styles and motifs. All of the examples are derived from popular women's magazines of the period, many of which regularly contained embroidery designs either to be used as the individual embroiderer chose, or for specific items such as handkerchief corners, baby bonnets, general clothing and domestic items which could entail anything from a cigar case to a glove box.

Illustration: Embroidered alphabet, 1858.

The nineteenth century was a particularly expansive era for the domestic embroiderer. The number of booklets and magazines either entirely or partially devoted to embroidery decoration multiplied as the century progressed. This in turn meant that everything that could be embroidered was, and the impression is given sometimes that if it didn't move it was embroidered. Part of the purpose of embroidered alphabets, though not the only one was to individually personalise items. Therefore jewellery boxes, spectacle cases, book marks, purses, handkerchiefs and the like could be embroidered with the name of the individual and then given as a gift. However, embroidered lettering also had the more practical purpose of identifying items that would otherwise have been seen as blank boxes. Therefore, lettering was used to differentiate a glove box from a cigar box for example.

Another significant purpose for embroidered alphabets was in its use as framed quotes for the domestic home. Some of these took the form of relatively stern reminders of the moral parameters that should be followed, many having a religious origin; others were much more prosaic and took the form of the near universal Home Sweet Home. However, there was also a tendency to use more profound language, often from a poetical origin and many of the nineteenth century's poets were immortalised in domestic parlours through the use of embroidery.

Illustration: Embroidered alphabet, 1861.

Although much of the usage of embroidered lettering in a domestic environment probably seems relatively redundant to us, it was an important part of the embroidery craft. The early twentieth century saw this trend continue, and if anything, expand. Art Nouveau lettering which encompassed anything from the distinctive alphabets used by the Glasgow Style, to the more elaborate flowing rhythms of France and Belgium, were used for permanent book and magazine covers, cushions, bags, chair backs, curtains, firescreens, tablecovers, cards, hangings, purses, tea and coffee cosys, blotter covers, bedspreads, pillows, portieres, tablemats, towels and so many others.

The very breadth and staggering versatility of the embroidery craft during this period could give the distinct impression that a certain class of woman had an awful lot of free time, either voluntarily or, as we would suspect, enforced. That much of this domestic embroidery disappeared after the First World War can be put down, to a certain extent, to the changing domestic interior fashions set by the change in Europe and North America from the 1920s onwards. However, there is also the case that many women began to change their circumstances from this period onwards and were less inclined to be seen as idealised domestic goddesses, a role which could well be seen as a form of forced seclusion, a literal exclusion from the contemporary world. This more active role in the community and in society in general obviously left less time to embroider the letters G-L-O-V-E on a glove box and more time to learn the Charleston.

Illustration: Embroidered alphabet, 1861.

This is not to belittle the skill of embroidered alphabets. There are so many distinct variations, many of which were supplied by the publications of the period. However, individual lettering was also produced by women through their own creativity, either copying and interpreting lettering and fonts from other sources such as medieval manuscripts, or producing their own style and technique. It should never be presumed that women across the generations, despite the fact of often having little if any personal freedom, were also incapable of creative and individual expression. They may well have had imposed limitations placed on them, but the outward creative expression of the individual is perhaps stronger than the imposed state they find themselves in. However, it could also be seen in another light entirely, with embroidered domestic work from this period representing a level of frustration and hopelessly unfulfilled ambition that is heart-breaking. An embroidered handkerchief corner could easily be seen as an indictment of the wasted generations of women and their forced passive and non-participatory role in life. Both are relevant and both have merit.

Illustration: Embroidered alphabet, 1862.

Women have often had to make the best of a bad situation, often through practical necessity. By using embroidery to form some framework of independent identity, no matter how seemingly small and insignificant to our own contemporary world, individuals have tried to make their mark on the world and have their life remembered through craft.

Further reading links:

The Great Exhibition and its Educational Legacy

2012-01-23T18:38:00.000Z

Illustration: Arcade from the oak screen work of stalls in the Choir at Winchester Cathedral.

The Great Exhibition of 1851 was the first international trade exhibition of its kind, certainly as far as scale and scope were concerned. It proved to be both a financial and public success, if not an entirely critical one. However, the Exhibition also released a number of unexpected aspirations, creating an atmosphere across much of Britain and Ireland that was to long outlast its physical nature. This took the form of a heightened and sustained interest in the educative aspect of the Exhibition, the expansion of knowledge, both historical and contemporary, that went hand in hand with the Exhibition itself and when the Exhibition did finally close, it continued through the 1850s and beyond, interest actually growing, rather than dispersing.

It is perhaps one of the great unforeseen benefits of the Great Exhibition that although its more obvious legacy can be seen in the founding of some of the great institutions of London such as the Museum of South Kensington, which later became the Victoria and Albert Museum, many towns and cities across Britain that had any conceivable connection with industry and trade, also felt the aspirational need for an institution and through that a connectedness to the larger contemporary world, in some cases for the first time. Institutions were organised and founded, some of a directly practical nature, others less so. However, these institutions were often focused venues for the leading ideas and beliefs of the contemporary industrial world. Practical classes were held in anything from fine art to mechanics, often depending on the industry of the town, and interestingly many institutes were founded with the intention of also running classes for women, even though many of these were initially domestically textile based rather than art or science based.

Illustration: Cornice design from the pedestal of Trajan's Column in Rome.

Institutes were also great venues for educational lectures and these were run by both national and local experts, critics and enthusiastic amateurs. The wealth of subject matter was admittedly eclectic, but at the same time informative, ranging from such titles as: The Manufacture of Iron; On the Kings and Courts of the Eighteenth Century; On the Application of Electricity to the Arts; On the Physiology of the Senses; Assyria, and the Buried Cities of Assyria and On the Advantages of Mechanics' Institutes in Cultivating the Mind. That many of these lectures were held at institutes in relatively small towns, not just the major ones, and often far from the capital, shows how the initial enthusiasm had spread from the original Great Exhibition.

Illustration: Design from the font in Cormac's Castle in Ireland.

Although there was much debate during the immediate aftermath of the euphoria set by the Great Exhibition, particularly as to the low self-esteem felt by critics of British manufacturing and design, there was in contrast a real ground-swell of positive enthusiasm for knowledge, both of the contemporary and historical world. To be fair some of this enthusiasm was aimed by the educated at what was considered the uneducated or minimally so, those that belonged to the large working majority which included both blue and white collar workers. There was also a certain reluctance on the part of audiences as the low turn outs for lecture series proved. Many institutes complained of a consistent lack of enthusiasm for their public lectures while their practical classes were always full. However, lectures tended to be very much a voluntary aspect of the institutions work, more so than the practical classes, even though there was a widespread determination in nineteenth century Britain that education should be seen as both a moral duty by the educator and a moral responsibility by the receiver, therefore the betterment of both the individual and the community was seen in some respects as the delayed remit of the Great Exhibition.

Illustration: Diaper design from the Alhambra in Spain.

Venues for the discussion and promotion of aspects of the historical and contemporary world were not limited to Britain and Ireland. Enthusiasm was just as apparent in the various colonies and dominions that made up the British Empire many of whom had taken part in the Great Exhibition and wished to build on that initial participation, while also making perceived and necessary connections with Britain. The United States was also an enthusiastic participator in the positive aspects engendered by the Exhibition and there was a genuine interest in forging practical and intellectual links between institutes and organisations on both sides of the Atlantic.

As far as design and decorative criticism was concerned, the enthusiasm across Britain for education, often through the practical application of the town institute in whatever form seemed necessary for each individual case, did not by itself spread the interest in design and decoration history and its potential use in the contemporary world. However, the positive atmosphere created by both the Great Exhibition itself and the sustained enthusiasm after its closure, allowed for the continuation and expansion of detailed examinations of the world of design and decoration on a much wider scale and on a much more serious level than had been achieved before.

Illustration: The pulpit from Siena Cathedral in Italy.

By physically encouraging the involvement of the nation through the use of practical classes and topical lectures in so many venues across the country, a relatively new phenomenon had occurred, the encouragement of the ordinary individual to intellectually invest in the major contemporary industries of the day, as well as that of art, science and history, subjects that had been limited in previous generations to the privately educated aristocracy. Although many who turned up at institutes in the major cities and towns across the country were to remain locked within the tight boundaries set out by Britain's stifling class system, a system still very much alive today, they still provided a valuable and voluntary self-education facility, a means of providing a vehicle for the individual to discover their past, their present and their future worlds through the opportunity of education.

Education can often be seen as the lifeblood of self-empowerment, a means of breaking out of limited options or expectations, a way of understanding and handling the world as it really is and not as others would have us see it. Although this was often far from the end purpose perceived in the numerous lectures and classes promoted throughout the latter half of the nineteenth century and into the twentieth, it was also an inevitable outcome in the promotion of self-education and self-discovery, which in some respects was the great legacy of the Great Exhibition.

Further reading links:

Modernist Textile Pattern Work by Emil Pirchan

2012-01-20T17:56:00.000Z

Illustration: Emil Pirchan. Woven textile design, c1909.

Emil Pirchan is perhaps better known for his work in the German theatre, particularly in set design, much of which was produced during the early part of the twentieth century. However, as with many artists and designers of his period, Pirchan was also involved as an educationist and as a designer in a number of disciplines, including textiles.

The illustrations produced in this article show a variety of both printed and woven textiles produced by Pirchan in about 1909. They are an interesting example of some of the results that he achieved in direct geometrical pattern work, similar to the results of many of his contemporaries who were producing sometimes quite radical textile design work across Central Europe, and particularly in Germany, during the first decade and a half of the twentieth century, before the start of the First World War.

Illustration: Emil Pirchan. Woven textile design, c1909.

Although Pirchan was born in what is now Brno in the modern Czech Republic, he spent much of his career first in Vienna and then in Munich and although he was involved primarily within the theatre, his work in textile design is a good example of some of the leading developments in contemporary textile design and pattern work during the early twentieth century. Pirchan's examples, although by no means singular, do show the capacity of the creative designer to embrace the aspirations and ideals of the new century while also reflecting the real and tangible results of the contemporary as seen in mass production methods, modular architecture and fine art abstract development.

The particular interest that Germany seemed to have in the acknowledgement of the contemporary within the decorative arts can be seen in some of the work produced by Pirchan during this period. There was a an interest, even fascination, with the ideal of the machine and its capacity for the unswerving and unchanging reproduction through the industrial process. Rather than taking the stand, as many in England did, of seeing the idea of mass production as the enemy of creativity, many German designers tried to understand and acknowledge the place that the industrial process held in a contemporary society. By recognising, even conceding, that the machine could not be removed or discarded as regards the production of contemporary textiles for example, this then allowed the designer to embrace the practical and technical aspects of production. In turn this then helped to fuel a different kind of design and pattern that would both compliment the process of mass production, while also allowing contemporary innovation to be seen in the end product.

Illustration: Emil Pirchan. Printed textile designs, c1909.

By embracing the practical technology of mass production, textile design work in Germany during the early years of the twentieth century was often, although not always, aligned with the strictness of the geometric. Woven fabrics were particularly sensitive to geometry as they were largely constructed from fibres arranged on the horizontal and vertical. This allowed the woven fabric to naturally follow a simple geometrical pattern of right-angles as can be seen in some of the examples produced by Pirchan. That these were also then taken across to printed textiles which did not have the same technical constraints as the woven process, shows perhaps the expansion of interest in both the structure of the highly limited but often hypnotically captivating appearance of the seemingly unlimited repetitive quality of the pattern work, along with the imposed geometrical and its increasing alliance with the idea and ideal of the contemporary as seen by those living in the first couple of decades of the twentieth century. This was a century after all, that was seen by many within the design field as one with a huge potential for fundamental change in all avenues and not just that along the lines of a redefinition of pattern and decoration.

Illustration: Emil Pirchan. Printed textile designs, c1909.

That there were sometimes obvious compromises made within this highly structured geometric format perhaps goes without saying. Although some pattern work during this period closely followed the remit of a simple and sometimes brutal appearing repetition, other designers took elements of both, the implication of mass production as well as that of artistic individualism, mixing the two sometimes effectively, sometimes not. However, the often uncompromising look of geometrically inspired pattern work was a stand taken by the contemporary world, often against quite substantial opposition from critics and designers, many of whom had spent much of their careers in the previous nineteenth century. Although it is too simplistic to paint a them and us scenario between the older and younger generations of designers, this form of near abstract pattern work formed an interesting and quite important development within the history of the role of pattern in European textile design that was to have an effect on the future of the direction that the decorative arts were to take, at least in Central Europe.

Illustration: Emil Pirchan. Woven textile design, c1909.

Many of the features that were to eventually become recognisable as the Bauhaus style, particularly amongst their textile production, can be seen in Germany within these early years and in some respects the textile design work produced by such individuals as Pirchan could be seen as a form of pre-Bauhaus because of their close alliance, at least in appearance, but also in their sympathy with the contemporary world and its reliance on the available technology along with its production methods, which was to an extent, to guide mass production textile pattern work for some time to come.

Further reading links:

The Influence of Persian Decorative Creativity

2012-01-16T18:34:00.000Z

Illustration: Persian manuscript page.

The influence of Islamic decoration on the decorative arts of Europe has been both fundamental and long-standing. From the early medieval period onwards the influence on European surface pattern in particular, has been an important element both as an inspiration and as a developmental tool. The interaction between southern Europe and North Africa for example, proved to be creatively inspiring, producing an inter-locking cultural mix of Islamic, Classical and Christian motifs and pattern work that was to produce some of the most important developments in textile pattern work.

By the nineteenth century one of the main areas of intrigue and fascination for Europeans involved in the decorative arts was that of Persia, modern day Iran. The history of the decorative arts in Islamic Persia was considered by many Europeans to be of fundamental importance, with highly sophisticated decorative work that could do nothing but be inspirational to designers in Europe. The extension of the Persian culture into Northern India through the Moghul Empire had proved to be particularly inspirational to the British who came into direct contact with the cultural heritage through their assimilation of India. It was this combination of Persian and Northern Indian decorative work that proved to be so inspirational to a number of British designers.

Illustration: Indo-Persian manuscript border designs.

Decorative pattern work in Islam came in many forms and tended to be spread across most of the decorative art disciplines. It was therefore used on an inspirational level within European industries that supplied the growing interiors market. Ceramics and textiles proved to be particular beneficiaries in the latter half of the nineteenth century with both disciplines producing a formidable amount of work, both obvious and subtle, with Britain being particularly susceptible to the style.

Islamic decoration tends to be perceived as following two main themes geometric and floral, and while this is true to a certain extent, there is a complexity to the culture, one that has incorporated a number of different regional and cultural themes, that makes this too simplistic, but sometimes useful when dealing with the larger themes of pattern work. Interestingly, of the two perceived themes, the British in the nineteenth century tended more towards the floral than the geometrical, despite the persistent persuasion of such critics as Owen Jones who saw the fundamental and varied building blocks of the geometrical as a perfect vocabulary for an endless complexity of pattern.

Illustration: Persian manuscript page.

All of the illustrations shown in this article are facsimiles of historical Persian manuscripts that were reproduced for a European audience to both marvel at and see as being potentially inspirational. In some respects, they were produced as an historical and cultural evaluation of Persia, but they were also an obvious portfolio of possible decorative techniques for use in contemporary European pattern work. The percentage of active inspiration depended on both the individual designer and the company involved. William Morris for example, was both intrigued and inspired by Persian and Moghul decorative qualities and techniques, but did not actively copy any of the results that he came across in his research. However, his surface pattern work in both printed textiles and carpet design did use some of the general techniques that could be found in Persian floral decoration. It is sometimes not always the direct approach to observational inspiration that is the most useful; often it is the slow and almost sub-conscious result that proves to be the most rewarding. However, others were more aware of the direct allure of what was termed as the 'Orient' and its potential for profits, and therefore a much closer observational inspiration was chosen.

Whichever path proved to be the most profitable, the creative or material, or even a combination of both, Persian and Moghul elements seeped into the decorative format of nineteenth century British decoration. So much so that the imported style can be seen as being an intrinsic part of many of the formats and disciplines that made up the decorative arts, from textiles to ceramics, and from illustration to metalwork. Some of the decorative inspiration is practically and blatantly obvious as in the output of Liberty for example, while some is much less so and forms a foundational level, as in the case of Morris and Co.

Illustration: Persian manuscript page.

However, no matter what the level of inspiration, it is fascinating to evaluate the influences and cultural overlaps that are always such a part of the history of decoration. It is intriguing to see the historical possibilities that may have been produced between the creativity of two different cultures in different parts of the world. The creative connections formed by Britain from that of Iran, many of which were not necessarily consciously achieved, show how important this form of cultural fermentation has been in the development of the decorative arts in general and in that of Britain specifically, an island that has always had a natural tendency to absorb decorative formats, embellish even transform them and then redirect them for both domestic and external markets. It is this form of creativity that perhaps lies at the heart of Britain's nineteenth century relationship with both Iran and its Moghul extension in British India.

Further reading links:

Die Nibelungen and the Illustrations of Carl Otto Czeschka

2012-01-13T17:13:00.000Z

Illustration: Carl Otto Czeschka. Illustration from Die Nibelungen, 1909.

Carl Otto Czeschka the Austrian born artist and designer produced a whole range of work in a number of disciplines including metalwork, woodwork, jewellery, textiles, furniture, stained glass, stage, interiors, both domestic and commercial, as well as in graphics and illustration. In all, or most of these subjects, Czeschka produced a highly defined style that in some respects helped to inevitably define the decorative arts in Austria during the early twentieth century.

Czeschka was a member of the Wiener Werkstatte from 1905. His work appeals very much to those interested in decoration and pattern, particularly that of a very definite and graphic quality. Many liken his style to that of Gustav Klimt and the joint emphasis on the decorative quality of the compositions of both men are obvious although both went in different directions with Czeschka concentrating very much on the graphic quality of decoration, Klimt much more on the fine art approach.

Illustration: Carl Otto Czeschka. Poster for the Fledermaus Cabaret, 1907.

The three illustrations of Czeschka's work shown in this article are perhaps some of the most memorable and popular. Two are from his famous illustrative work he produced for the 1909 Die Nibelungen, while the middle illustration is a poster he produced in 1907 for the Fledermaus Cabaret. The Nibelungen illustrations in particular are very defined, even isolated in some respects, so that single or even group compositions tend to be surrounded by single colour space, often white. In many respects, this gives them a dynamism and a sense of concentration so that the viewer is pinned to the narrative of the story as perceived by Czeschka.

It is perhaps no coincidence that Czeschka was also involved in stage production and these illustrations can easily be seen as perhaps influential in both directions, towards a stage interpretation and from a stage interpretation. Interestingly, the illustrations Czeschka produced for Die Nibelungen were considered inspirational for Fritz Lang when he produced a film version of Die Nibelungen in 1924. Anyone who has seen the Lang film will be fully aware that at least elements of Czeschka's decorative interpretation of the Nibelungen, are fully incorporated in both sets and costume. Despite the fact that the film is in black and white, something of the solidity and graphic dimension of Czeschka's style and indeed that of the Wiener Werkstatte, is readily incorporated and readily noticeable.

Illustration: Carl Otto Czeschka. Illustration from Die Nibelungen, 1909.

After just over a century, Czeschka's work still seems able to appear arresting and beautifully and effortlessly poised. There is little in these pieces of illustrative work that could be seen as unnecessary or extraneous. The illustrator has made every line and every field of colour count, although economy in no way denotes a lack of imagination or creative input. In fact, limiting line, style and particularly colour range, there being at most one or two colour variations in many cases, has added to the unique creativity of the Niebelungen series, so much so that they are still very much sought after and seen as a fundamental decorative inspiration too many, even a century after they were initially published.

To see more of the breathtaking illustrative work that Czeschka produced for Die Nibelungen, follow the link to Spirit of the Ages which gives a good representation of the illustrations that were provided in 1909.

I have included two segments of the Fritz Lang 1924 film Die Nibelungen at the end of this article; they will also be available to view through The Textile Blog Video Library Channel under costume, as well as being posted on The Textile Blog twitter, facebook and google+ sites.

Further reading links:

The Symbolism of Personal Memory. The Artwork of Andrea Vail

2012-01-11T17:47:00.000Z

Illustration: Andrea Vail. Gained (LOST) Opportunity, 2010.

The work of artist Andrea Vail is dedicated to, and uses a number of formats, disciplines and traditional crafts. Common themes run through her varied work which are as significant and fundamental as the history of our species. Memory, the layers of time and the significance of objects imbued with personality and a fundamental symbolism are an integral part of her work and guide us through a variety of everyday and abstract ideas, which in turn give us perhaps a sense of our belonging within the timeframe of the environment and that of our species.

Although Vail's work covers a number of themes and ideas, it is perhaps as well to pick out one of those themes, to follow a strand of thought in some ways. A good example would be that of the simple key. A key in its own right is merely a tool made of metal in order to lock and unlock a mechanism. However, this simple but iconic tool has gradually become imbued with our shared psyche. It is part of our history as a species, but perhaps more importantly it is also part of our significantly individual history as well. A key is a form of memory, shared experience and in time that of layered reminders of that experience.

Illustration: Andrea Vail. Gained (LOST) Opportunity, 2010.

In some respects, it matters little as to the individual experiences that are attached to a key. All first-hand memories eventually fade, become confused or just become subsumed in the mass of human experience. However, the very real experience of creating a collection of random or lost keys is also an exercise in the symbolic. We all understand that a key can often be of a symbol of a deeply personal nature. We all have, and carry through our lives a number of different keys for a number of different reasons. Giving a key to someone can be a validation of trust in someone, a rite of passage as in that given to an adolescent, or the potential cementing of a relationship. On the other hand a key can also be a reluctant relinquishment of power or even a complete surrender of independence, as in old age.

We are all aware of the significance and heightened symbolism attached to these small pieces of metal. By Vail highlighting these symbols she makes us fully aware that on the one hand they are inanimate objects devoid of emotion, whilst on the other they are personal artefacts as well as significant symbols of our shared human culture. The idea of placing a selection of keys together on a wall, whilst also separating them by the use of small individual sheets as well as the significance of drawn and sewn lines, the sewn lines being used to enclose the individual keys in acetate, thus cutting each individual statement from another, gives the impression that whilst we all share both the symbolism and the experience, we are also, as individuals, alone.

Illustration: Andrea Vail. Gained (LOST) Opportunity, 2010.

On another level Vail also sees the key as a form of opportunity, whether potential or lost. In fact, the name of this particular piece of artwork highlighted in this article: Gained (LOST) Opportunity gives us a good indication of where this theme can go. It is fascinating to consider the heightened symbolism, belief and potential that can be imbued into a simple mechanical format. However, it is perhaps not the key itself that takes on this burden of the potential for opportunity, whether real or not, as well as that of memory, experience and emotion, but that of the individual. We are a transient and short-lived species with little to seriously project beyond our lifespans, of the experiences we have had and the dreams we left unfulfilled. So in some respects, this particular piece of work by Vail could be seen as poignant, a look at the endless layers and the endless journey of successive lives and memories, pinpointed in an everyday object.

Although in many cases symbolism, and specifically that of a personal kind, is the only real tangible idea that we can leave behind us, that personal symbolism also fades in time. However, perhaps that is not as important in the long run as we would believe it to be. In some respects, Vail's work shows us through the use of random and therefore unnamed and unidentified keys, the strength and enduring path of recollection and it is a tribute to the memory of remembrance to that of the individual but also to that of the many. We are a product of layers of humanity, a symbol, in our own right, of the hopes and opportunities, whether realised or lost, of the many individuals that came before us, just as we are to be the same for future generations. We are all keys of opportunity, of memory and of experience, we open the door for future versions of our species and therefore Vail's Gained (LOST) Opportunity is both literal and metaphoric, a description of the human condition and the cycle of life, opportunity and death that we all experience as both individuals and as a species.

Andrea Vail is a well-known and admired visual artist with a wealth of experience within the fine art world. She has exhibited widely and has her own fully comprehensive website which can be found here. The website contains many more examples of her intriguing and thought-provoking work.

All images were used with the permission of the artist and are therefore copyrighted.

Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style

2012-01-09T13:49:00.000Z

Illustration: Front cover of Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style.

A new year and a new ebook from The Textile Blog.

This particular title explores the embroidery style and teaching methods of one of the most important members of embroidery craft in Europe of the twentieth century and certainly the most important in Glasgow. Ann Macbeth ran the embroidery department at the Glasgow School of Art from the departure of the former head Jessie Newbery in 1908 until 1920 when she in turn departed, being replaced by Ann Knox Arthur.

Macbeth firmly believed in the economic and creative empowerment of women and therefore the education of girls in practical independence as well as self-belief through individual creativity was always a main concern of hers. She firmly believed that the craft of embroidery which was seeing a contemporary rejuvenation under the guidance of the Glasgow School of Art, could be fostered to both direct and sustain an independent lifestyle for women.

Illustration: Sample pages from Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style.

Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style covers both her own personal and individual creative work as well as that of her wider educational remit, both of which were equally important in their own way towards the history of twentieth century embroidery and craft. Macbeth was a designer that was very much part of what was known as the Glasgow Style which came to prominence in the early twentieth century. She was a name that was known well in both Scotland and Europe for her contemporary view of embroidery, a craft that was often seen as being more attached to its own traditions than that of the modern. However, it is perhaps her incorporation of contemporary embroidery within the education system, as well as the creative freedom that went hand in hand with the modern, that is perhaps one of her most important legacies.

Her innate belief in the natural independence of women, along with her equally firm belief in the creative ability of every individual is perhaps a contribution to the world of embroidery and of craft, which is still very with us today.

Illustration: Sample pages from Ann Macbeth and the Galsgow Embroidery Style.

Chapter headings include: Embroidery Through Education, Educational Needlecraft 1911, Ecclesiastical Embroideries and Macbeth as Designer. The book has 50 pages and 31 illustrations in a variety of colour and black and white.

Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style, along with previous titles: Pugin the Pattern Designer, Nature and Surface Pattern and Islamic Decoration and Ornament can all be purchased from the Ebooks page or by clicking directly on any of the book titles mentioned anywhere in this article, or pressing on one of the book covers on the right hand side of the blog.

I hope that you enjoy the book as I begin to start planning the next one.

Classically Derived Ceramic Floor Designs

2012-01-04T18:55:00.000Z

Illustration: Minton and Co. Ceramic Floor Design, 1851.

The Gothic Revival period of the mid-nineteenth century onwards can sometimes seem all-pervasive and it is therefore standard to see all companies supplying the interiors market with a preponderance of medieval inspired decorative work. However, as with all things, nothing is ever quite as neat, tidy and simple as some would perhaps prefer.

As with any period of the decorative arts, despite the fact that many are swept along within the framework of fashion and contemporary style often dictated by self-proclaimed arbiters of taste, much also depends on the more intimate and individual critique of personal taste and the perception and projection of the uniqueness of the individual. Of course, much also depends on actual and perceived status and in this respect companies that supplied the decorative official state and private domestic market were more than willing to cater.

Minton and Co which is a company very much associated with the Gothic Revival, they did after all produce ceramic tile work supplied by the designer who most saw as being if not the originator of the movement, then at least one of its most vociferous champions, Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin. However, the company also produced decorative work that could only be described as being within the classical mould.

The two examples illustrating this article were published in 1851 and show plans for ceramic floor designs that are entirely classically motivated. Interestingly, they were shown within a publication alongside their more easily recognised medieval styled work. Although much has been said of the 'Battle of the Styles,' the famous arrangement whereby classical derived architecture and decoration was firmly locked in a bitter and often acrimonious public debate, some would say battle to the death, with medieval derived architecture and decoration, it was perhaps not all that it might have seemed, at least to many of the companies that supplied decorative to both sides of the argument. It seems sometimes as if the posturing was a little magnified, a little over-blown and certainly fuelled by those who had most to gain or lose in the public argument. Companies such as Minton and Co could not afford to alienate customers, potential or otherwise and therefore took the pragmatic option of supplying both camps with the best decorative work they could offer.

Illustration: Minton and Co. Ceramic floor design, 1851.

It is sometimes a mistake to think that a particularly pervasive and instantly recognisable decorative style such as that of the Gothic Revival was equally all-pervasive in the market place and this can never be fully true. Although historically it makes more logical and orderly sense to place one style after another, the reality makes much less sense. Some of the debate and personal choice between classical and gothic has undoubtedly to do with perception. The classical was very much associated with the rural living aristocracy, whilst the gothic was equally associated with the new middle class and the rise of urban living. However, some of the old aristocracy took the gothic to heart and a percentage of the new middle class tried to ape their perceived betters by building in the classical.

Either way, Minton and Co produced a couple of decorative floor designs that were probably some of the best work available during the 1850s. The colours are crisp and the decoration itself, whilst involved, is relatively quiet and contained. They are perhaps in many respects all that was expected of a classically inspired decorative interior. They may well not have been entirely correct in their exactitude and certainly during this period leeway was given to a sometimes creative approach to both the classical and medieval. However, Minton and Co were one of the better companies and had a relatively high status in both finished product and development of creative ideas.

As an interesting side issue concerning the animosity between classical and medieval inspirations, there have been a number of articles written concerning the difference in the outward projection of governments depending on whether they inhabit buildings that are classical, gothic or otherwise. Some have even suggested that Britain may well have seen its own projection slightly differently if it had had a classically inspired Houses of Parliament rather a gothic. Although this can never really be proved one way or the other it is a fascinating insight into perhaps the effect architecture and decoration can have on a nation or at least its outward projection, as well as its own self-belief.

Further reading links:

The Exuberance of Early Victorian Carpet Design

2012-01-02T19:16:00.000Z

Illustration: Henderson and Co. Carpet design, 1851.

The beauty and complexity of carpet design has been with us possibly since the invention of weaving and certainly for the last two millennia or more. Although much of the obvious design work for this discipline can be found in Asia, Europe does have a history of uniquely individual design work that is linked to both traditional regional craft styles, as well as more recently studio based work that was originally hand produced and then machine.

In the nineteenth century British carpet production in particular, was becoming increasingly part of the mass manufacturing industry. With the increase in production there was an equal need for an increase in the number of distinctive pattern work examples for carpets. These were procured from a number of different sources which included traditional Islamic carpeting, French eighteenth and nineteenth century work, along with contemporary design work produced by various British designers, a proportion of which were part of in-house design teams connected to the individual manufacturers of carpeting.

At least a proportion of decorative pattern work used in carpeting was derived from near copies of either existing work, or detailed drawings of styles both current and historical that could quite confidently be reused with little if any procedures concerning copyright. Copyright laws took much of the nineteenth century to systematically put in place, and much longer still to prosecute, particularly internationally.

However, original decorative work was possible and although perhaps being inspired from various sources, was still considered individual enough to count as unique. The two illustrations for this article show original design work for carpeting produced by the Durham manufacturing company of Henderson and Co in 1851. In fact, the two designs were entered as fitting examples of the work produced by the company for the Great Exhibition of 1851, held in Hyde Park, London.

The two designs are complex and varied. They seem to bring in elements from Indian decoration in particular, which is an interesting development, India becoming more and more important to Britain both politically and decoratively as the nineteenth century progressed. However, there seems in these two cases in particular, a marked allegiance to Indian marquetry and inlay rather than textiles. Indian inlay work was particularly popular and very much admired in Britain for its complexity, skill and beauty.

Illustration: Henderson and Co. Carpet design, 1851.

The first example in particular, shows a sophistication and understanding of decorative pattern work. Not only are the arced decorative motifs overlapping and intertwining each other, but also scales are mixed with small splays of arabesques being picked out in both light and dark colours against the more obvious decorative bands which appear as though thick borders. This particular example seems vibrant and full of movement and must surely have been a visual feast for the eyes.

The second example, whilst perhaps being more sedate in style, is nonetheless just as accomplished. The inlay styling whilst appearing a little more conventionally European in style, can still be associated with an Indian outlook. The differing styles of arabesque seem much closer in scale than the first example, although the differences are still there. Although both examples give only a sample of the full carpet design, it can be seen how the complexity of the decorative style was intended to be an all-over pattern. Interestingly, Henderson and Co were particularly known for their stair carpets and therefore these two pieces might well have been intended as either for that reason or all-over carpet flooring rather than the traditional four cornered carpet design, although there is no specific note of this.

It is unfortunate that neither example is in colour and no description of colours is given either. However, it should be assumed, considering that both examples are from the middle of the nineteenth century, that they would have been particularly bright, even perhaps florid by our tastes, although richly decorated and admired by Victorian standards. Although they may well not be to our tastes, they have to be admired for the depth of decorative work entailed in their design.

This is probably the high point of this particular style of British carpet and is the end of a sequence of design work that had been produced with ever more confidence and sophistication since the early nineteenth century. Although this large-scale, colourful and demonstrative pattern work for carpeting was to persist at least through the 1850s, by the 1860s styles had calmed and become more conventionalised with borders, medallions and florals becoming more readily part of the standardised compositions expected from tradition.

Although the first twenty years of the Victorian era in Britain, the 1840s and 1850s, are often looked upon as a particularly difficult time for the decorative arts, even as much as an intermediate era where design and decoration had little to offer and much to regret, it is perhaps worthwhile looking with a new perspective upon an era that at times at least gave the appearance of being little troubled by design reform and its obsession with correct colour combinations and pattern procedures. A period perhaps where colour, pattern and decoration were celebrated with large amounts of enthusiasm, frivolity and a coquettish amusement with the new and the novel. Although frowned upon by various parts of the Design Reform movement of the nineteenth century and certainly by the later Modernist movement of the twentieth century, there is an innocence to the exuberant decoration found in these carpet designs and the period in general in which they belong, an innocence that perhaps is sometimes overlooked.

Further reading links:

Gothic Revival Wallpaper Decoration and Pattern

2011-12-28T18:17:00.000Z

Illustration: William Woollams and Co. Block wallpaper design, 1851.

The history of wallpaper design has very often been identified quite clearly with the history of the decorative arts. By its nature, particularly from the nineteenth century onwards, it appeared almost instantaneous compared to many other formats within an interior. Because wallpaper became connected with mass production, new and varied design work appeared on the market with an increasingly rapid turnover. Design styles were not only fashion orientated, but also connected with the different strata of society, along with the differences that became apparent in the nineteenth century between the interior requirements of domestic households, with wallpaper design work appearing to satisfy the perceived tastes of both the male and female dominated areas of the home.

The nineteenth century saw an extensive range of suppliers in both Europe and North America producing decorative pattern work to feed an ever expanding market. Although it is often assumed that wallpaper work in the nineteenth century was over-laden with excessive amounts of pattern and colour, it is sometimes interesting to examine some of the examples that were part of the market and to re-examine our preconceptions, many of which were coloured by ideas concerning the nineteenth century that were promulgated by the twentieth century.

The example shown in this article was produced in 1851 by the company of William Woollams and Co. This block printed design does not have any of the heavy formatting that we often associate with the Victorian era. It is simple, certainly within its colour range and was produced, although not specifically, for a picture hanging room where it would conceivably not clash with any of the compositions hung in front of it. Although not specifically machine produced, other examples similar to this were produced by machine. The common misconception is that machine produced wallpaper design work was both badly designed and of inferior workmanship. While machine produced wallpaper output could not hope to compete with hand production, the quality of pattern work was not always as clear cut as critics of the period would have the public believe. Many of the examples reached the same level of competence as this particular example, although to be fair, many did not.

The fact that this particular wallpaper design was produced at the beginning of a decade that was to see the spectacular rise of mainstream medievalism in the form of the Gothic Revival, is shown perhaps in the choice of pattern format. Perhaps not as obvious or structured as the work of A W N Pugin, it is nonetheless very much in the mould of medieval styling that was considered acceptable for the period. The scroll work could easily have been identified either with ecclesiastical stone work or elaborate door hinges; it could even have been identified with medieval book illustration. The fact that all of these origin points, as well as others, shows how non-specific some of the medieval sourcing for the Gothic Revival really was.

Instigators of specific sourcing for the revival, such as A W N Pugin already mentioned, and that of Owen Jones, wanted deliberate and scholarly investigation into medieval pattern work, specifically the anatomy of the differing decorative styles that went to make up the era. That these investigations could then be used to both help and expand the vocabulary of contemporary nineteenth century pattern work, including that of wallpaper design, was widely expected. However, the interior decoration market has always been led by a largely pragmatic approach to decoration in its broadest sense. No large tomes regarding medieval decoration and ornament were followed by many of the suppliers of the interiors trade, although these were both written and published in large and varied profusion, particularly during the 1850s and 1860s.

Many of the wallpapers produced during this period were given the feel of medievalism without the strict structure of the original source. Many wallpaper suppliers and retailers were well aware that although the Gothic Revival had huge potential for expansion and exploitation, it was also one that had to harmonise with the relative relaxed and casual atmosphere of mid-nineteenth century domestic interiors. In other words, what had originally been produced for medieval ecclesiastical benevolence did not necessarily mean that the same effect was expected in a mid-nineteenth century parlour or library.

To be fair, the original intention of the Gothic Revival had been one that was limited to the ecclesiastical, but as with so much in the region of fashion and taste; it soon escaped and was being both diverted and reimagined for public secular life and the wholly lighter shade of domestic life.

It is interesting to note how many objects from strictly religious backgrounds became available for domestic accessories. The nineteenth century saw a particular penchant for Christian, Islamic and Hindu imagery whereby specific images were either used as decorative resources or were incorporated as loose accessories in the form of intriguing statuary. This theme continues into our own era whereby imagery is still being related to design interiors. However, the sourcing is now even more eclectic than it was perhaps in the nineteenth century, with anything from Ancient Egypt to Buddhism being incorporated into contemporary interiors.

In this respect it is perhaps wise to see the rise of medievalism in the nineteenth century, at least within the context of interiors, as part of the expanding interest in the eclectic. This does not necessarily negate any other factors that could also be incorporated into the rise, from Pugin's religious convictions to that of Jones fascination with the anatomy of decoration. However, there is also nothing against the celebration of decoration for its own sake. Pattern is one of our most ancient expressions and whether it derives from an abstract religious conviction or the observational shape of a flower of leaf, there is no reason why it should not also be celebrated within the context of a Victorian parlour or a contemporary living room of the twenty first century.

Further reading links:

The Traditions of Culture Decoration and Creativity

2011-12-19T17:23:00.000Z

Illustration: Moravian embroidered and laced apron border.

Often the influences, whether immediate or long-term, on the direction that a creative person takes in their work can seem less obvious than it first appears. Observational investigation, initial influences and source material are all used in tandem with casual and secondary inspiration, anything from a piece of music, a landscape or a an idle thought. These are all part of the process of creativity and although immediate personal surroundings do have a powerful influence on the creative mind, they are not always the most immediate or indeed influential.

Illustration: Bohemian embroidered cuff.

A good example is the use of childhood memories. Many artists and designers across the generations have been initially drawn towards large urban landscapes. After all, this was usually where the commercial and artistic heart of a nation or region was situated. Many of the European cities in the latter half of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were cosmopolitan centres and no more so than the Central European city of Vienna. Vienna drew individuals from all corners of the multi-ethnic Austro-Hungarian Empire so that the population ranged from Bohemians, to Poles, Italians to Bosnians. All of these individuals, although wanting to make a success in the capital for a number of different reasons, also brought their unique ethnicity to Vienna, producing a complexity to the capital that although not always appreciated by the native German speaking population, was to highlight a sense of internationalism, at least within the context of Central Europe. This also had a profound effect on the decorative arts produced by Vienna during this period.

Illustration: Galician embroidered head shawl.

If we look at the early years of the Wiener Werkstatte for example, we can see that although firmly part of the Viennese sophisticated urban landscape, the Werkstatte also maintained a number of influences from outside that immediate framework. A relatively large proportion of the designers and artists that worked for the Werkstatte actually didn't originate in Vienna at all, but came from different regions around the Empire. Josef Hoffmann, one of the main driving forces behind the Werkstatte, grew up in Moravia, part of the modern day Czech Republic. Although being an ethnic German himself, Hoffmann was well aware that he was a minority living within the traditions of a Slav culture. He was also aware that the craft and decorative traditions of Moravia were part of his background and therefore also part of his creative inspiration when it came to his own work. More intriguingly he was also aware that the use of his initial childhood background and memories were capable of lasting his creative lifetime, at least in some form.

Illustration: Lower Austrian embroidered bedcurtain border.

It is important to reflect that childhood memories can be some of the most powerful that we will ever come across. Many are much clearer and more concise than later adult memories. A creative person may well use some of these most potent influences on their psyche, all the way through their creative life. The fact that they may well be mixed with thoughts, ideas and influences of the contemporary landscape that they find around themselves does not negate the powerful influence that these memories hold. In that respect it is interesting to think that various traditions can seep into contemporary art and design work without even being noticed, at least consciously.

The five illustrations that make up this article are all example of traditional textile craftwork from various ethnic regions of the old Austro-Hungarian Empire. They by no means cover all the diverse regions of a complex and multi-layered empire, but they do give an indication of some of the decorative ideas that artists and designers of the Wiener Werkstatte might well have brought with them when moving to Vienna. These unique regional styles and attitudes towards craft and decoration could well have been used to reflect at least a modicum of the contemporary work produced by the Werkstatte during the early years of the twentieth century. It is intriguing to think that the contemporary is somehow beholden to the traditional, even if only in a small and semi-conscious manner.

Illustration: Slavonian embroidered woman's dress.

Although it is often thought by a number of critics that an artist, designer or craftsperson should be seen as a unique creative individual divorced from the petty limitations of their regional and ethnic background, this is very often far from the truth. The complexity of an individual is made up of family, community, social and cultural backgrounds that are part of the weave of that individual. It can often influence the work produced by a creative person. So, no matter if an artist, designer, or crafts person lives in New York, Moscow or Sydney, it is not just a matter of the contemporary landscape that is a factor, but so much more. Even if an individual escapes to the big city to immerse themselves in the complexity, ethnicity and often anonymity of a large urban centre, they will always have with them the elements of their background, traditions, social and cultural factors in which they were born and raised. This they may well decide to reject consciously, whether the unconscious decides to influence their creativity regardless, is an intriguing conjecture.

Further reading links:

Educational Courts at the Crystal Palace

2011-12-16T18:35:00.001Z

Illustration: A Handbook for the Medieval Court by Matthew Digby Wyatt and John Burley Waring, 1854.

After the Great Exhibition of 1851, it was felt that the popularity of the event, including the exhibition building itself, should be continued in some form. It was eventually decided to re-erect the building in a different format at Sydenham. The building itself, popularly known as the Crystal Palace, was officially named as such and became a strange combination of leisure and educational venue. A number of 'courts' were set up within the building. These courts were to largely take on an educational format, whereby decorative historic styles would be represented. Therefore courts were designated as Egyptian, Greek, Roman, Alhambra, Assyrian, Byzantine, Medieval, Renaissance, Italian and Pompeian. There were also courts for a range of diverse near contemporary and contemporary subjects such as fine art, sculpture and music. However, it was the historically themed courts that particularly caught the imagination.

When the newly refurbished Crystal Palace reopened in 1854, it was still a period in British history whereby few of the population had ever been outside of the confines of the nation. Therefore, exotic appearing courts, although mostly constructed from plaster, giving an appearance of historical or geographical locations, must have appeared to many, to be bringing far flung locations of the world to their own near doorstep.

Illustration: Medieval Court at the Crystal Palace, 1854.

Guidebooks were produced for each court written by a range of experts including Samuel Phillips, Philip Henry Delamotte, John Burley Waring, George Scharf Jnr, Austin Henry Layard, J Gardner Wilkinson, Owen Jones and Matthew Digby Wyatt. Wyatt was involved with four of the guides, two of which are illustrated in this article. The Byzantine and Romanesque Court and The Medieval Court, both co-written with John Burley Waring were perhaps not the weighty tomes that some might have preferred, but as they were aimed at a very broad cross-section of the general public, they were very popular.

The guides gave a good general introduction of the period and style of each court, concentrating on the architectural, fine and decorative art of the era. They also paid heed to what was actually included within each court, all of which were plaster copies of originals. In the case of the Medieval Court for example, it might well have caused a certain amount of confusion as decorative styles from both England and various parts of Europe were all placed within the confines of the court. However, most visitors seemed to find it both entertaining and educational, which no doubt was the purpose of the organisers.

Illustration: A Handbook to the Byzantine Court by Matthew Digby Wyatt and John Burley Waring, 1854.

Praise should go to Owen Jones himself who was intimately involved in the construction of many of the courts. Jones tried to achieve as close a resemblance to the originals as was possible. However, obviously some courts were going to be more exact than others. The Alhambra Court for example, was particularly praised for its superb decorative details. This would no doubt have something to do with the fact that Jones knew the Alhambra from personal experience and it was always considered to be an integral part of his belief in design and decoration reform. Other courts were perhaps less convincing, particularly those with few eyewitnesses to the real pieces. Suppositions concerning colour combinations had to be made with little archaeological evidence, but as few members of the public knew anything about the originals, it perhaps seemed more important to give an indication, rather than a strict detailed view of some aspects of world decorative and cultural history.

The two little guidebooks featured here are in themselves interesting snapshots of public entertainment and education in the mid-nineteenth century. Although there was a whole range of entertainment from music hall to opera, public entertainment in the mid-nineteenth century did seem very much to be concerned with enlightenment of the masses through art education. In some respects, it seems very little different from today in that institutions find themselves with the same difficult task of educating through entertainment. It would be hard to judge how successful the Crystal Palace was as an educational resource, compared to its entertainment value. This always seems to be the problem when turning a museum into an entertainment complex. Does everyone enjoy the interactivity but still go away with more information, or have they just had fun pressing buttons? A number of critics of the Crystal Palace made note that many of the crowds who descended at the weekend were outside, rather than inside the Palace, the outside areas being full of non-educational entertainment.

Illustration: Entrance to the Byzantine Court at the Crystal Palace, 1854.

However, the courts themselves, as can be seen from the two illustrations of sections of the Medieval and Byzantine Courts, were impressive, considering they were mere plaster copies of original stone features. They must have made a particularly grand gesture towards ideas concerning the history of the architectural and decorative arts, and given an indication of what was available in the world outside of the island of Britain, as well as an inkling of the cultural history that we all have an equal share in.

Interestingly, there were no courts dedicated to Indian, Chinese or Japanese cultures, nothing concerning Africa, Native America or the Pacific. In some respects, lack of detailed information could be seen as an excuse for at least some of the omissions. However, this does not explain why for example a Nineveh Court was included and an Indian Court was not. With many of these nineteenth century well-meaning public educational formats, there were just as many underlying factors that had to do with issues largely concerned with the twin aspects of empire, colonialism and racism. The popular and standard Euro-centric world view, also gave a staggering lack of perspective of the world as a whole.

However, despite its obvious faults, the Crystal Palace did try to open new vistas on the world for a British audience that was largely ignorant of any details, other than its own. For those with no knowledge of the historical placing of the decorative arts of Europe at least, the different courts would have proved a useful resource, particularly if there was little hope of being able to visit the medieval churches of France and Germany, the ruins of Pompeii, or the Alhambra of Granada.

Further reading links:

Artists, Designers and Unknown Makers

2011-12-14T17:43:00.000Z

Illustration: Gustaf Fjaestad (artist), Miss Fjaestad (weaver). Below the Falls tapestry design, c1913.

Very often in the recent history of textile design and craft, the name of the artist or designer is both known and lauded, and indeed that is the way that it should be. However, often the maker of the piece has not always been the artist. One of the textile disciplines in which this is acutely apparent is in tapestry design.

Although the composition of a tapestry piece was usually completed by an artist, that same artist would not always complete the weaving of that tapestry, often they would not be involved in the process at all, though this was not always the case. Where today we would probably surmise that a tapestry artist that conceived the artwork would also be the same person that wove that composition, there was also a tradition of the tapestry studio which would house a dedicated team of weavers who would produce whatever work came into the studio. Sometimes an artist would have a relatively intimate relationship with the studio and sometimes there would be little contact, particularly if the tapestry was to be a woven version of an already existing fine art piece.

Illustration: Alfred Wallander (artist), Svensk Konstslojd (weaver). St George and the Dragon tapestry design, c1913.

This inevitably leads to the question, whose work can be truly identified with the finished tapestry and whose name should more fittingly be associated with that piece. The artist produced both the concept and the ultimate outward projection of the art project. However, the weaver was much more intimately involved in both the day to day construction, and also the details which would no doubt have become personalised with a particular weaver.

Illustration: Alfred Wallander (artist), Svensk Konstslojd (weaver). The Blessed Virgin tapestry design, c1913.

It is a hard and probably unrewarding task defining the appropriation of the title of true maker for a tapestry where two creative individuals are involved in one piece. Some may say that the true creative can only be the artist and that the weaver is merely following explicit instructions from the artist, but this is rarely the case. Tapestry weaving is creative in its own right and although choice of colours, yarns and even perhaps the approach taken by the weaver might well be dictated by the artist, the small, intimate processes that are all part of the tapestry weaving process produce judgements that have to be made by the weaver as they progress through the piece. Admittedly there are different types of weaving techniques as there are different types of approach when dealing with the practical construction of a tapestry. However, this does not negate the important personal contribution of the weaver.

All five of the tapestries shown in this article, two by Alfred Wallander and one each by Gustaf Fjaestad, Nils Lundstkom and Helmer Osslund were all woven by either a named individual other than the artist, or by a studio. This is not to say that because all four artists did not necessarily involve themselves fully in the weaving of their tapestries that they were somehow negligent or only partial artists, it is more to do with the interesting association that the actual weaver has with the art piece.

Illustration: Helmer Osslund (artist), The Licium (weaver). Torne Trask tapestry design, c1913.

To be fair, through much of history many of the artists and weavers of tapestry works across the planet have been anonymous. However, with the emergence of tapestry as a fine art medium in the later nineteenth century, artists' names began to be associated with specific tapestries. These names ranged from Edward Burne-Jones to Otto Eckmann and they are recognised and appreciated as important individuals within tapestry design, although at the same time, there is often little mention of any of the individuals that actually physically produced the work. Admittedly, the involvement of these various individuals and teams of weavers would have been more of less intimate with the finished tapestry depending on their experience and natural ability. It is also perhaps asking too much to expect weavers to have their names twinned equally with that of the artist, but recognition in some form is perhaps called for, or if not, then perhaps a recognition that an artist or designer is only one link in a long process of produced conception of a tapestry and the actual finished piece.

This of course is not a problem associated only with tapestry. Many of the textile disciplines including rug weaving, embroidery, lace and others find the same peculiar position whereby an individual artist or designer is recognised for their achievement towards a specific discipline, but the actual producers of the work are largely unrecognised. Add to this factor that most of the lauded designers during the period covering the latter half of the nineteenth century and into the twentieth were men and most of the practical and anonymous workers were women, a definite series of problems concerning the recognition of the creative worker as well as the creative designer or artist can easily be found.

Illustration: Nils Erik Lundstrom (artist), Thyra Grafstrom (weaver). The Witch's Lake tapestry design, c1913.

Whether the question of the unacknowledgement of practical makers had more to do with rigid social or creative frameworks or that there was more involved in this process than we can see today, I am not sure. However, I have always been aware that producing articles on named artists and designers can only ever be part of the story, the wealth of practical knowledge and understanding of materials and mediums accrued by generations of practical makers, most of whom were nameless women, is perhaps the largest and most inspiring part of the creative process.

Further reading links:

The Supremacy of Indian Decorative and Pattern Work

2011-12-12T17:59:00.000Z

Illustration: Owen Jones. Indian Decoration from The Grammar of Ornament, 1856.

The Exhibition of the Works of Industry of all nations in 1851 was barely opened to the public ere attention was directed to the gorgeous contributions of India.

This was the opening sentence of the Indian Ornament chapter of Owen Jones The Grammar of Ornament. Although the Jones title was published five years after the Great Exhibition of 1851, the obvious significance of India's role in that exhibition was still being felt by Jones and other critics and practical designers, well into the 1850s. To be more exact, the influences of Indian design work, technique and technology was to be felt for the rest of the nineteenth century and beyond. It could be said that in some respects the way we approach surface pattern today could be directly linked to the impact of Indian design and decorative work on Britain in the mid-nineteenth century.

Britain had a long history with Indian design and decoration, particularly through textiles. Textile work was both imported and copied from the beginnings of British trade with India in the eighteenth century and its influence can clearly be seen in the number of fabrics that tried to reproduce authentic Indian pattern work through such pattern genres as chintz.

Illustration: Owen Jones. Indian Decoration from The Grammar of Ornament, 1856.

Although Indian decorative and pattern work was recognised and to some extent familiar with the British, it was the bringing together of the full and diverse genre of Indian decoration and ornamentation at the Great Exhibition of 1851 that really brought Indian design to the forefront of the imagination and examination of the British. It was here that critics were able to examine not just a few examples, but a whole range of styles from textiles, to armour, wood and ivory inlay to detailed silverwork and rich and embellished embroidery. It was the obvious technical supremacy of much of the craftwork from India that clearly highlighted some of the acute problems and lack of sophistication in much of the British industrially produced manufacturing work. The public noticed, as did critics and those intimately involved in the processes of mass manufacturing. It was this stark contrast between the work produced in India and that of Britain in which Jones concentrated in both his book and the earlier critical reports he made during the great Exhibition for both the general art and design press, but more importantly for that of the official government report as to the lessons to be learnt from the Exhibition.

Illustration: Owen Jones. Indian Decoration from The Grammar of Ornament, 1856.

One of the stark and probably insurmountable problems faced by anyone who wished to compare and contrast the work of India and that of Britain, was the obvious one of hand versus machine production. Most, if not all of the work displayed at the Indian pavilion of the Great Exhibition had been produced after long hours of labour, techniques often only reproducible by hand. In the case of the British, although some hand production was present, much was machine produced. This was purposeful as Britain had been keen to use the Great Exhibition as a vehicle for its pre-eminence in the industrial revolution. That much of the work on display looked cheap, confused and woefully inadequate compared to the hand production from India, was an acute embarrassment and an indictment that although the machine was obviously faster than the hand, it still had a long way to go in order to better the results of hand production, many would say that that day is still as far off as it was in 1851.

Illustration: Owen Jones. Indian Decoration from The Grammar of Ornament, 1856.

Although Jones was keen to stress both the technical and practical supremacy of Indian hand design work as well as the high skills base in most design forms, he was keener to place a direct understanding of Indian pattern and decoration and to stress where lessons could be learnt by the British manufacturing industry as to how improvements could be made quickly and efficiently. One of the main ideas that came from examination of Indian surface pattern in particular, was the obvious lack of any form of three-dimensional trickery. The Indian pattern work illustrating Jones 1856 The Grammar of Ornament for example, of which the five illustrations for this article are drawn, make it clear that there is a definite graphic quality to all the pattern work on display. Jones stressed that Indian surface pattern did not use the trick of introducing shadow to give an impression of depth, and that often interpretations of floral work were not copied exactly as they often were in Britain, but gave a free impression of the flower. This, in Jones interpretation, was because Indian pattern designers had always been aware that the illusion of reality did little service to a flat format such as textiles. A flat surface deserves to be complemented by a flat medium, in other words surface pattern should be sensitive and reflective of the surface medium it has to work with.

Illustration: Owen Jones. Indian Decoration from The Grammar of Ornament, 1856.

Jones was aware and drew attention to the fact that many cultures stressed the same fundamental facts concerning surface pattern as in India. In The Grammar of Ornament he paid great heed to Islamic decoration and also that of medieval Europe. He argued that it was the renaissance and their obsession with systematically portraying reality through carefully constructed illusion, which took Europe away from the medieval path of graphic and symbolic representations of the world at large. That this in turn began to fundamentally affect textiles through surface pattern tragically severed designer's natural affinity with flat rather than illusional pattern. However, despite all these examples, both past and present, it was still India itself that had the most obvious impact on British surface pattern work during the latter half of the nineteenth century and beyond.

India as a cultural entity has seen many invasions come and go and absorbed them all. Although external occupations are very often also a form of cultural exchange, many of the external cultures that were involved with India, such as the British, absorbed much more than they ever gave out. The relatively short relationship between India and Britain, lasting only two and a half centuries, is full of complex and often conflicting cultural facts and fantasies. The relationship between the textile industries of both countries is just as complex with both sides deliberately manipulating pattern work to cater for each other's commercial markets. Future articles will try to explore a little of the relationship between Indian and British textile industries as well as more concerning the relationship that Britain had with Indian surface pattern and decoration which is a fascinating and diverse subject. Indian pattern work is also covered in some detail in two of my ebooks: Islamic Decoration and Ornament as seen by Owen Jones, which covers all aspects of Jones coverage of Islamic and Indian decoration in his 1856 title, as well as Nature and Surface Pattern which covers some of the issues dealing with British surface pattern and the inevitable influence of India. Both titles are available through The Textile Blog on the ebook page, or by clicking on the links to the titles just given.

Further reading links:

Ann Macbeth and Educational Embroidery

2011-12-09T18:33:00.001Z

Illustration: Ann Macbeth. Embroidered panel, c1906.

Textile design and craft have often been inextricably linked with that of education and particularly that of female education. The movement towards universal education that was so much a part of the social development of the nineteenth century, particularly in North America and Europe, saw textiles enter the classroom. One form of textile craft that took particular root was that of embroidery. Admittedly, it was largely limited to the female school population and many people today see that fact alone as an indictment of extreme discrimination and belligerance of government policy towards women and the role they were to play in society at large. However, there is perhaps a different way of seeing the use that was made of embroidery in schools during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, that is perhaps a little more balanced, if still not entirely palatable to our twenty-first century reasoning.

That brings me quite aptly to Ann Macbeth. While writing the ebook Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow Embroidery Style which should be available before the end of the year, I kept thinking about some of the reasoning behind why Macbeth felt so passionately that embroidery was and should be such an important part of a girl's education. Macbeth, although a teacher and head of the embroidery department at the Glasgow School of Art in the early years of the twentieth century, was also involved in the training of state education teaching staff in embroidery. She was also particularly keen to incorporate embroidery learning skills within the school system as early as possible. This was not, in her estimation, to bring up generation after generation of young women who had good domestic skills as accomplished home embroiderers, but had much to do with ideas concerning the empowerment of women.

Illustration: Ann Macbeth. Curtain with applique border, c1910.

This may sound very strange coming from the perspective of the traditions of embroidery, which although not entirely part of the world of women, men were involved in a number of ways in embroidery over the centuries, it is indicative of the traditions of the female craft sphere, as are many of the textile crafts. However, Macbeth saw embroidery as a means of women empowering themselves through at least a modicum of financial independence and security. During her teaching period embroidery was still considered a potentially profitable employment route for women. Although there were a number of difficulties with the intermittence of low wages, middle men and the fickle consumer market, women could potentially earn a living if they were accomplished enough. This seems to have been one of the main reasons that Macbeth was so convinced that girls should start with embroidery at such an early age. She reasoned that even if they chose never to sew another stitch after they left school, they would have had years of experience from their school years on which to fall back if they should hit straightened times. The fact that women were often economically vulnerable was an acute awareness of Macbeth.

One of the most important developments of the twentieth century, at least for much of North America and Europe, was the gradual unravelling of the domination of men in all forms of life. While there is obviously still a long way to go, even though many men in North America and Europe are convinced that everything is now hunky dory, it clearly isn't, one of the most important aspects of female independence has to be financial. Although women such as Macbeth were convinced that gaining the vote for example, was a pressing and focused goal, many in the suffragette movement were concerned that by concentrating on such a focused and contained achievement, men would eventually hand over the vote leaving women with little but that vote. It has to be remembered for example that men would dominate, and in many cases still do, the selection of candidates for election, so women could have the vote but only vote for men, thereby negating many of the issues that women wanted to be on the public agenda. In this respect, the suffragette movement was more than a movement for short term political gain and much more to do with the longer term goal of true independence for women to run their lives within or without relationships with men, as fully independent and secure.

Illustration: Ann Macbeth. Embroidered table mat, c1906.

Macbeth saw this in her own way as the role that embroidery could at least partially play amongst the female population. If a woman, before or after marriage, could produce her own work and earn her own money, then she was an independent figure in the community. If she could then support, through her independence, that community, she would be seen as a vital element, rather than one that was placid, supportive and secondary. One of the important points that Macbeth made concerning the teaching of embroidery within the classroom, was that girls should be encouraged to produce their own pattern work, be capable of understanding colour combinations and tones and be versatile in stitch and composition. In this way women would feel both confident as creative individuals, but also not feel as if they were mere copyists of work supplied by others. In this respect she wanted women to feel as if they could control the entire embroidery process and not just elements. In other words, by encompassing the entire process of the craft, more money could be made, less middle men were needed, and more independence could be accrued for women.

Macbeth realised that this was not necessarily a golden route to fame, fortune and the complete independence of womankind. There were numerous problems that sometimes seemed insurmountable, particularly with a social framework that had been stagnant and entrenched for so long, so that both men and women would have to remove themselves from the framework to even see the framework itself. However, it was the idea of even an element of personal independence that was important to Macbeth and if she could achieve that through the teaching of embroidery through the school system, then it was worth doing, even if only a few women were able to stand alone if they chose to and in that she should be commended

Further reading links:

A Celebration of Textile Art

2011-12-05T17:01:00.001Z

Some may remember the series of articles that The Textile Blog produced on a number of contemporary textile artists. I thought it a timely reminder not so much to reflect on the articles themselves, but the idea of textile art as a title. Many still see the impossibility of the words 'textile' and 'art' being in the same sentence, at least without being derogatory. It is often thought that textile art is a branch of craft, and while techniques used by textile artists do often derive from a craft foundation, whether that be through quilting, embroidery, printing, weaving, tapestry, knit, lace, felt and others, it does not negate the conceptual thought that often goes into a textile art piece.

Happily for many, we have come a long way from the idea that textile art should be considered a lesser subject than fine art. In fact, it is just one of the many tools that an artist can use as a form of self-expression. It is also a discipline that is loaded with complex and diverse forms of making and shows an extraordinary capacity for self-perpetuating individualism and the unique qualities that can only be found within the textile genre.

Textile art is growing strongly, and in many of the traditional craft skills that are often assumed near-dead, individuals have breathed new life into tried and tested formulas, often completely breaking the rules of tradition, producing new and innovative ideas that are then pushed on by others. Interestingly and happily, there is no real centre to contemporary textile art. It can be found from Alaska to New Zealand, and can reflect the flavour of local heritage and culture or can project outwards a truly international aspect.

In many ways, as the title of this article suggests, this is a celebration not only of textile art itself, but how far it has come and how healthy seems its journey ahead. There are many artists, who have now become established names in their own right, and there are new generations of artists, some of whom approached textile art from the wide textile craft base, but interestingly there are also those that are approaching textiles from a fine art background.

One thing that I have always noticed about the textile art world is how enthusiastic, supportive and accommodating it is to a whole range of diverse approaches. All seem accepted, the professional, the amateur, the traditionalist and the contemporary and this is surely how it should be. There should always be room for creative free-expression. One of the great strengths of textile art is the fact that so many techniques are involved and can be so on one individual art piece. The skills base itself is extraordinary with textile artists being proficient often in a whole range of traditional as well as highly contemporary techniques and ideas. As long as textile artists can project themselves into the modern world, in many respects they keep the traditional skills of quilting, embroidery, printing, weaving, tapestry, knit, lace, felt and so many others, alive and self-refreshing. In this way the hand-produced textile disciplines can be passed on to new generations, who will hopefully re-evaluate and then project a new identity to those traditions.

Textile art is a fascinating world full of possibilities. It often involves a cross-disciplinary assumption that is not always favoured by all members of the creative world. However, textile artists themselves often produce work that is layered with both meaning and identity. That the layering can also be an accumulation of a diverse technical ability, can often be seen as a liberation rather than a betrayal of craft or art roots. Either way it appears obvious that textile art is both an important part of the contemporary creative world, as well as expanding and maturing into a discipline that counts.

The mosaic illustration that goes with this article shows the work of all 38 artists that were featured on The Textile Blog. They can all be found on the Textile Artists page by pressing the tab just below the main header of the blog, or you can follow this link.

Further reading links:

The Creative Interpretation of Nature

2011-11-30T15:57:00.001Z

Illustration: William Morris. Rose textile design, 1877.

One of the most consistent and widely reflected inspirational points used by creative individuals of any discipline is that of the natural world. It has stimulated untold generations of work and continues to do so, and will no doubt be the source of countless future generations. There is something about the world around us that constantly reconnects in our creative experiments. This connection can be interpreted in a number of ways, but mainly through ideas of observation and empathy.

Observation can never be a truly group experience but always an individual one. Every human sees the external world around them, as indeed they do the internal, differently from the next individual. A tree for example, will appear in seven billion ways depending on the eye construction of each human on the planet and the connections to the brain from the eye, and also the links within that brain. We may all think that we share the same experience, but of course we never can, nor should we. It is our uniqueness, despite a world population of seven billion that allows us to interpret and reinterpret in so many ways and levels, the world we inhabit and see around us.

Illustration: William Morris. Tulip textile design, 1877.

In that respect, creativity can only ever be personal and identified to the individual through their own practical observations and experiences. The way this is then interpreted externally through art, design or craft is yet another unique level of understanding between the individual and their surroundings. Line and colour are just as personal as initial observation and there are just as many variations of colour and line as their individuals on the planet.

Therefore, all art, design and craft by its very nature is unique and individual and although mass production has taken humans beyond the realm of a contained connection with each individual product, there is still the initial individual and unique connection with the original. In textile design for example, the surface pattern may well be printed or woven in staggeringly large numbers through mass production, but the pattern itself will always have a small and intimate connection between the original human creative and their surroundings. This relationship is an important and often vital one for creative people, the connectivity between themselves and their surroundings being a lifelong one.

It is sometimes hard for us to see ourselves within the midst of the complexity of nature, rather than standing aside from it as we are often portrayed. We tend to regard nature as an entity that we are somehow excluded from. This disconnection has led to a belief that the natural world is a commodity that needs to be both exploited and coveted. In some respects, the process of commodifying everything around us, whether it be plant, rock or fauna, ultimately reflects back in on ourselves and we start to see our species not as seven billion fellow individuals, but as a conglomerate mass, a market to be as equally exploited and coveted as the external natural world.

Illustration: William Morris. Evenlode textile design, 1883.

The creative interpretation of nature brings us both comfort and a sense of belonging. Whether expressed through tapestry or embroidery, through surface pattern or lace, or indeed any other discipline where decoration or ornament is used. It would be very hard to find an individual that did not own something within their home or amongst their personal belongings that did not reflect the natural world in some form or another.

This connectedness and obvious emotional relationship that we all have in some form with the natural world around us, whether we see that world as a creative or not, begs the question as to why then can we be so dismissive and destructive of that same world that we admire so much when seen in a small piece of fabric.

Further reading links:

Illustrative Work of Jessie M. King

2011-11-28T16:01:00.001Z

Illustration: Jessie Marion King. Illustration to Poems of Shelley, 1907.

Jessie Marion King was a Scottish artist and illustrator who produced much of her more memorable work in the early years of the twentieth century. Although she is mainly known for her illustrative work during the early period of the twentieth century, she also produced textile work including batik in which she was quite extensively committed well into the 1920s, as well as embroidery. She had been both a student and teacher at Glasgow School of Art and was one of the artists and designers that helped to cement the unique style that Glasgow was to call its own, a combination of Arts and Crafts practicalities and Art Nouveau aesthetics.

The illustrative piece by King that is given as an example in this article was published in 1907. It was part of an edition of Shelley's poetry and bears the text at the bottom of her illustration:

...until thine azure sister of the spring shall blow her clarion o'er the dreaming earth...

The poem is Ode to the West Wind and the illustration produced by King was just one of a set that were beautifully and creatively engineered by her in order to appear both ethereal and yet to have significant strength in order to reflect the art of poetry to both change and reflect imagination. King was particularly good at producing illustrative work that carefully balanced itself between confident artistic expression and delicate poetic imagination. She was said by many of her contemporary critics to have taken her work beyond the mere reflection of the books she illustrated. It was suggested that her own creative work added to the full complement of a book, implying that the publication may well have been the poorer without her contribution.

Interestingly, two of the early books that King illustrated were by William Morris who, like many of her generation, she saw as a combination of mentor, originator and guide. The Wood Beyond the World and Defence of Guinevere were books that were both steeped in the Arts and Crafts Movement as well as the earlier medieval revival that poured into and inevitably influenced the craft movement in both England and Scotland for much of the nineteenth century. However, there were other influences outside of the remit of Morris and his movement that were equally compelling and intriguing to King and her generation, though would perhaps have trouble the sensibilities of Morris.

A number of critics drew comparisons between the work of King and that of Aubrey Beardsley. She was by no means unique in this comparison and it is interesting that many of the artists and designers of the Glasgow movement were also linked with Beardsley, particularly Margaret and Frances MacDonald. While there is indeed a layer of Beardsley's influence across the work of a number of King's contemporaries, it can only ever be said to have been one of the influences, but not necessarily an overriding one.

King is an interesting artistic expression of the coming together, even overlapping, of two worlds. Both of these worlds rarely saw a commonality, but in many ways they were indelibly linked. Those two worlds were the English and Scottish Arts and Crafts movement and the European based Art Nouveau. The expression of the physical and observational parameters of nature encased in the ideals of the Arts and Crafts movement, along with the more cerebral imaginations of nature beyond its physical limitations as often expressed in the wider parameters of the Art Nouveau movement, particularly in literature and music, seem to come together effortlessly in Kings illustrative work. In some ways she was a creative artist that had gone beyond the immediate and the home-grown, beyond the mental limitations of the Arts and Crafts movement, towards the expanded universe of Art Nouveau and its dependency on the fantastical, or at least beyond the everyday imaginations of most. It is this movement beyond the roots of the native and practical Arts and Crafts that spells the change in emphasis and mental space that creative artists had occupied within the England and Scotland for so much of the nineteenth century.

On a more practical level, it is interesting to note that King produced textile work in tandem with her illustrative. More interesting still is that fact that at least a proportion of that textile work was embroidery. Drawing with embroidery was a skill she held in common with a number of the new creatives during the early years of the twentieth century. This freedom of movement gave embroidery a wider artistic remit, allowing compositions to go beyond the traditions of the craft. That artists and designers took the initiative and produced work that could be both complex and simplistic, depending on attitude taken towards line, gave greater freedom of expression and helped extend the parameters of the craft into that of the fine art world. King herself produced line work in both illustration and embroidery; it is tempting therefore to wonder how much each discipline influenced the other. Either way, King produced an astounding confidence in her work and was rightly admired for both her individual creative direction, as well as her ability to reflect the sensibilities and sensitivity of the new century.

Further reading links:

The Stylised Medieval World

2011-11-25T16:47:00.001Z

Illustration: Illumination from a manuscript, 12th century.

Sometimes it is tempting to see the medieval gothic revival of the nineteenth century in the same light in which it was clearly intended, at least by some of the purveyors of the movement; that of a reconnection with the arts and mind-set of the medieval period, a joining of two cultures in one foul swoop. That this was near impossible did not change the fact that a number of passionate individuals wished it to be so.

The medieval world that was actually displayed by the people of the period is usually one that is very different from that portrayed by the nineteenth century artist or designer. The Pre-Raphaelite medieval world for example tends to be one that has few real factors linking it to the zeitgeist of the period. There is little if any immediacy, bawdy humour, irreverence for the pompous or general joy of life that is so often portrayed in medieval manuscripts and decorative panels. The Victorian ideal of the medieval, at least in art and decoration, seems much more in tune with one of romanticised posturing, beautifully portrayed but somehow lacking in humanity.

Illustration: Illumination from an Anglo-Norman Psalter, 12th century.

As far as the practical decorative arts were concerned, there was an attempt to both understand and then represent the ideals that lay behind medieval decoration, while at the same time reflecting the different mind-set that was an ever-present factor of the gulf between the two eras and cultures.

One of the more obvious factors concerning decoration as seen in these five examples from the twelfth century is the general lack of studied perspective. This does not mean that perspective did not exist in the medieval world at all; it is clearly a factor if sometimes rudimentary, in all of these examples. However, we are often led to believe that the renaissance rediscovered perspective wholesale, placing an instant gulf between work produced during that era from that of the medieval. In some ways it was much more a case of finalising perspective, much of the work produced during the period verging on the obsessional, with a need to represent perspective in such detail as to produce work that was coldly clinical in its accomplishment. It could be said with some truth, that the medieval world was fully aware of the practical aspects of perspective by just merely observing the real world, but as far as art and decoration were concerned, they chose to place more emphasis on stylisation rather than cold reality. In the same respect, it could be said that our own contemporary world of fine art and decoration, places very little emphasis on perspective and realism, but this does not mean that we are incapable of understanding the concept because we wish not to express it.

Illustration: Illumination from a manuscript produced at Silos Monastery, near Burgos, 12th century.

Medieval work particularly that produced in book form paid much more notice to the narrative. Sometimes this was immediate with work showing a momentary frame of time in the story; others seemed to show more than one scene being played out in the same picture despite the fact that the scenes may well have occurred at different times in the story. It was perhaps this fluidity with the narrative, composition and structure of art and decoration, the playfulness and ingenuity of figurative and non-figurative art, that in some ways makes the medieval artistic mind seem closer to our own than that of the nineteenth century, and it certainly seems closer in understanding than that of the renaissance.

Illustration: Illumination from an Anglo-Norman Psalter, 12th century.

However, the nineteenth century did take on elements of the immediacy and graphic quality of medieval decorative art work, although there was obvious reluctance in many parts to the letting go of the traditions of classical training and comfort in the well-rounded form. It was somewhat later in the century, with the influx of Japanese artwork and illustration that graphic qualities began to be seen on a much larger scale, particularly within European graphics and illustration. However, the interest in medievalism during the mid-nineteenth century must have produced some scope for decorative artists to both experiment and project the ideals seen within medieval work and for this to then percolate over the century. This can be seen on a much more immediate and wide-ranging scale when considering the surface pattern produced in the textile and wallpaper industry from the mid-nineteenth century onwards.

Illustration: Illumination from a manuscript, 12th century.

The second obvious factor of these medieval works is the purity and simplicity of colour. The beautifully clear and concise quality of the colour workmanship, particularly when seen within the illuminated manuscript, probably had more influence on the decorative arts of the mid-nineteenth century period, particularly when concerned with surface pattern. A W N Pugin for example, was a particular fan of clear and concise colour fields, as was William Morris. Both understood the attraction, both aesthetically and practically of a limited colour palette uncluttered with invasive and time consuming processes of tone production. Although Morris moved away somewhat later into increasing complexity, Pugin was always true to the medieval spirit of simple and clear flooded colour fields.

The artwork of these five medieval pieces contains a combination of simplicity, confidence, playfulness and an innate understanding of stylised expression. These were features that were both lost and misunderstood by generations that counted the renaissance as their foundation. It is perhaps since the breaking down of classically inspired artistic and decorative barriers from the latter half of the nineteenth century onwards, that has allowed us to fully appreciate the wide range of decorative and graphic skills that were so much a part of the this period. More importantly, it has allowed us to begin to fully comprehend the rich layers and character of humanity that was so much a part of the medieval world and so instantly recognisable in so much of their art and decorative work.

Further reading links:

Stained Glass Window by Arthur Hughes

2011-11-23T16:24:00.001Z

Illustration: Arthur Hughes. The Birth of Tristram stained glass panel, 1862.

Arthur Hughes is best known as an English painter in the Pre-Raphaelite style. He was associated with and knew most of the members of the movement and his work can be said to have certain similarities although Hughes specialised in a form of forlorn loss, with many of his narratives dealing with pathos contained within a selection of ideals, many to do with and the loss of youth, life and innocence. It is perhaps pure coincidence or a form of fortuitous foresight, or even specific planning that Hughes was given The Birth of Tristram as a subject in the cycle of stained glass panels produced by William Morris' company in 1862.

Hughes was part of group of artists and designers, including Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Valentine Cameron Prinsep, Edward Burne-Jones, Ford Madox Brown and William Morris himself, who produced a series of thirteen stained glass panels reflecting the Tristram and Isoude romance.

Hughes represented the scene of the birth of Tristram in a narrative that was full of his particular style of pathos. Tristram's mother lies dying after having just given birth to her son. He will never know her and she will never know him. The bond between mother and child has been severed by the fate and natural progression of the story. That Hughes shows this in a dignified yet still full and typically romantic mood, says much about his interests as an artist as well as the reflection of the period.

This was a period in Britain where medievalism was considered by many to be the main architectural, decorative and design style. It has become indelibly linked with the early to mid-Victorian era and will probably remain so. Although medievalism meant many things to many people, the main underlying factor seemed to be that involved with change. The nineteenth century was the first to deal with large scale restructuring of most facets of human life, many of which had not changed for generations. The industrial revolution in Britain which had emerged in the eighteenth century, had gathered such pace by the mid-nineteenth century that the country and its people were becoming so radically altered that, in many respects, it was losing connections with its past and entering a new age of steam, industrial manufacturing and increasingly mobile populations.

In some ways, the increasingly reflective identity of a medieval past was a means of retaining a connection with the cultural past of a people. The art and design world were enthusiastic proponents of a simpler and more idyllic period in Britain's past, one that had no connection to steam or industry. Interestingly, it was also a philosophy that portrayed the working man as happy but contained. The worker in medieval Britain as portrayed by at least some of the Victorian medievalists was one that knew his place in society and it was not one where he was free to move across social barriers. The hierarchy was strict, formal and set in stone. That concern for changes in the traditions of Britain were not limited to the industrial, but also entailed the fear of social movement and what that would mean for those already established in the hierarchy of the British class system, must also be seen as a factor that was reflected in the Victorian love affair with the medieval.

Many of the stained glass panels produced in 1862 were not particularly medieval in style, and were probably never meant to be. They were a reflection of the concerns and romantic illusions of a period in decorative and art history that was caught in a maelstrom of industrial, political, religious and social change, one that was so fundamental that it was to change the way Britain functioned from top to bottom. That many sought a calming and comforting factor, no matter how illusory, through the stormy seas of reform is perhaps understandable and should be seen in context with the period.

This is the last artist to be featured on The Textile Blog concerning the Tristram and Isoude stained glass series produced by Morris in 1862. Anyone interested in reading all of the articles connected to this collection can follow the links below; each artist involved has a corresponding article.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Valentine Cameron Prinsep
Edward Burne-Jones
Ford Madox Brown
William Morris

Further reading links:

The Dynamics of Craft

2011-11-21T15:35:00.001Z

I was intending to write about something completely different today. However, I was doing some research for the next ebook, which concerns Ann Macbeth and the Glasgow embroidery style, when I came across a short article by Francis Newbery and therefore decided to concentrate on this article instead.

Newbery became head of the Glasgow School of art in 1885, before that he had been teaching at the Design School at South Kensington in London. Newbery had bold ideas concerning design and education, some of the leading ideas of the day. He transformed both the direction and identity of Glasgow School of art, making it, by the end of the nineteenth century, the foremost design school, not only in Scotland, but in Britain as a whole. One of his chief aims was to encourage women to both attend the art school in much larger numbers, but also to broaden their creative horizons and to raise those horizons to a professional level, a status for women less than encouraged by the established order. Women took up a whole range of disciplines including metalwork, jewellery, woodwork, leatherwork, bookbinding and embroidery. More importantly, many of these students after graduating set up professional workshops across Glasgow, producing art and craft work in these disciplines making Glasgow one of the leading centres for contemporary work by women at the turn of the twentieth century.

What I found interesting in the article written by Newbery, was his ideas concerning decoration and decorative artist. He talked of their originality, their personal relationship with their work, their relationship with the contemporary world as well as the inevitable ties with the traditions of the past, along with the practicality and function of making. All features that must be a factor in the lives of most people who read The Textile Blog, makers professional and amateur, student or tutor, and therefore relevant to all. Even though written one hundred and nine years ago in 1902, Newbery seems to effortlessly understand the balance between the mechanics of the practical applications of the hand as well as the conceptual space of the mind.

Newbery was aware that any designer or maker must be aware of factors that were both external and internal. Creating a convenient balance between these factors was not always an easy task. He thought that creative decoration:

'...must be more that an aggregation of conventional forms to be used on occasion, like recipes taken from a cookery book. It must be a personal belonging, and have a distinct relation not only to the ego of the creator, but also to the period in which it is created.'

Creative decoration or artistically minded craft have dimensions of personal space as well as external observation. They use tools of the discipline, both practical and mental, to achieve work that should make a new statement for the individual as well as the community at large. In other words the conventions and rules of a discipline, as Newbery says, should be used not as a standard and set formula, but as a mere guide or framework for fresh endeavours, a pushing of boundaries, no matter how small, away from the conventions of the standard.

He goes on to give a more specific detail as to how the creative individual can both use the forms of the past, but use the originality of the individual to add more than the accumulation of the past. Further, the present creative should be able to trace elements of tradition back to their source and then use that knowledge to push forward the idea or concept. In many respects, it is the job of every generation to add to the accumulation of creativity in whatever discipline, but never to merely copy or pastiche. Every generation must leave behind it its own personal and unique identity, which can then be added to the history of that discipline, for future generations to repeat the cycle of use as inspiration in which to build a new set of creative work.

'To be original in any sense of the word is, first, to find out what has been done, and then to learn further possibilities both of material and of treatment. Otherwise originality becomes a travesty, and creation (so-called) merely a borrowing. But the instinct that can trace the hieroglyphical forms on a Persian carpet back to the nature from which they were adapted can start again with that nature, and end at a point beyond that, it may be, which the Persian reached. And, what is more, the worker may finish with that touch of nature which the Oriental never had, and thus make a deeper appeal to our senses, because of the added comparison we are able to make between means and ends.'

Finally, Newbery was convinced that personal experience within a discipline could not be bettered and that to understand the process was to intuit the discipline itself. This did not necessarily mean that the designer or maker should be involved personally and practically in every detail of the steps towards the making of a piece. However, it did mean that the individual creative should have experience of the steps in order for them to intrinsically understand what was going on and how to divert or accommodate changes in the process when needed practically or creatively.

'To completely know how to design for any material, it is necessary to be a worker in that material. For there should be no real fixity of idea in a design that is being produced by the hand. It should be possible to make any change of intention as the work proceeds, and it may be that the best design is, in the long run, the one whose general scheme is understood from the beginning, but whose details are studied and carried out as the work proceeds. By such means artistic instinct is always kept on the alert, and the opportunity left open for the attainment of the best possible result.'

Although Newbery was writing concerning the processes of decoration, design and craft, I think that it also compares well with those interested today in craft subjects as a fine art discipline. Both design and art craft share a common heritage, one that is the accumulation of generations of largely unknown makers. This is the dynamic of craft and what makes it unique in the creative arts. This accumulation is also one that is not about the tradition of the static and the historical, but instead about the live tradition of layer upon layer of innovation, creative individuality, but above all experimentation, all produced over a long period by successive makers who have looked both back to the accumulation, but also forward to the innovative. That surely is the job of all designers and makers regardless of whether they are involved in textiles, ceramics, glass, metal, wood to understand both their individual unique creativity, but also to understand their connection with the discipline and the generations that make that discipline possible.

Further reading links:

Walter Crane and the Inter-disciplined and International Creative

2011-11-18T16:51:00.001Z

Illustration: Walter Crane. Enamel panel design, c1902.

It is often surprising to note how many crafts and disciplines artists and designers either worked in or designed for, particularly in the latter half of the nineteenth and beginning of the twentieth century. A number of individuals known today mostly for specialities in specific disciplines were also known to have produced work in disciplines that were not always seen as being immediately complementary. So for example those with specialities in embroidery worked in ceramics and metal, those better known for glass work also worked in textiles, illustrators and graphic designers also produced work in wood and metal, and so on. Architects in particular tended to produce work across many disciplines, but this has more to do with the increasingly common feature of gesamtkunstwerk that took more and more emphasis within the creative and decorative arts as the nineteenth century drew to a close.

Gesamtkunstwerk is loosely defined as the total work of art, where one specific creative individual is responsible for a piece of work in its entirety. Therefore, the building of a house for example would be the responsibility of the architect, both inside and out. Taken to its inevitable conclusion would be the case whereby an architect would design the building itself, but also the interiors, furniture and furnishings down to the smallest detail. Charles Rennie Mackintosh was an enthusiastic proponent of the gesamtkunstwerk, as indeed was Frank Lloyd Wright.

Illustration: Walter Crane. Enamel panel design, c1902.

On a broader scale, although not seeing themselves as being involved necessarily with the totalised idealism of gesamtkunstwerk, were the decorative designers and artists who sanctioned an increasingly broad spectrum of work. One such was Walter Crane. Ostensibly an illustrator, Crane also produced work in a number of disciplines from wood engraving, to printed and woven textiles, carpets and rugs, embroidery, wallpaper, ceramics, metalwork, stained glass and others. Although trained as an illustrator, Crane was able to infuse a number of other disciplines with the unique perspective of an illustrator. How this changes the perspective of that adopted discipline can sometimes be subtle, at other times profound.

The four enamel panels produced by Crane in about 1902 are perhaps not a particularly astounding example of a cross-disciplined adventure. However, they are perhaps an attempt by the designer to broaden the appeal of his own work, but perhaps more importantly, and certainly within the character of Crane himself, to expand the appeal and diversity of the decorative arts in general.

Illustration: Walter Crane. Enamel panel design, c1902.

By the dawn of the twentieth century the decorative arts in Europe had become increasingly complex, with many artists and designers becoming part of a larger continent-wide phenomenon, one that was to produce a support network of creativity. Many artists, companies and organizations were to see themselves as either multi-disciplined or newly open to the possibilities of inter-border and inter-creativity on a much wider international, rather than national scale. While nationalism was and still is a recurring problem in Europe, for a time at least it did appear that as far as creativity was concerned, Europe had lost its debilitating and juvenile national border mentality. Crane himself was involved in a number of Europe-wide exploits and connections which included Germany, Austria and Hungary.

Crane and many others helped to put in place a broad foundation for the decorative arts in Europe. All arts and crafts were included and seen as having merit and substance. Interaction between creatives of different nationalities gave the decorative arts one of its most forward, confident and optimistic modes in its history. That it was left in near tatters after 1914 says much about the differing perspectives and empathy perceived and projected by the creative as opposed to the much narrower confines of the politician.

Illustration: Walter Crane. Enamel panel design, c1902.

One of the creative casualties of the First World War was that of the great vehicles of the Europe-wide network of the decorative arts, the magazine. All of the major European decorative arts magazines The Studio, Dekorative Kunst, Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration and others, those that particularly displayed a keen interest in the promulgation of the inter-connectedness of a Europe-wide decorative arts system, became insular, nationalistic and therefore largely useless. All articles concerning the creative work of individuals who were now considered 'the enemy' were no longer published and the international stance of the magazines became a thing of the past. During the war The Studio suffered particularly becoming little more than a provincial reminder. It was clear that the magazine had lost much of its creative input by leaving out any mention of German and Austrian creativity.

Although, to be fair a number of artists and designers across Europe did fall into place with nationalist political propaganda and were at first enthusiastic supporters of the war, many others were bewildered as to the sudden change from cooperation to open hatred of creative individuals who happened to be on the wrong side of what seemed an overnight impenetrable although arbitrary border. A number who refused to disconnect themselves from friends made in the original international decorative arts network, were perceived, often near-hysterically as spies, traitors and worse. The sense of interwoven, inter-disciplined and inter-connectedness of creative Europe never really recovered anything like the perceived enthusiasm and excitement towards the international decorative arts that it had during the first few years of the twentieth century. Europe was to commit a slow and painful suicide over much of the twentieth century, with the decorative arts always seeming to play a very secondary place to politics, nationalism and all the other horrors brought out into the open by the small-minded but politically powerful.

The inter-disciplined creative individual still exists of course and probably always will do, although many seem less inclined to enthusiastic cross-discipline experimentation and much more to that of honing the one skill. As to the levels of international decorative artistic and design interaction, much has been largely replaced by internationalism and corporate one-size-fits-all branding.

Crane himself died in 1915, which on the whole was probably just as well.

Further reading links:

Wallpaper Designs by Turner and Sons

2011-11-16T16:41:00.001Z

Illustration: Turner and Sons. Flock diaper wallpaper pattern, 1849.

The choice of decorative styles in mid-nineteenth century Britain were not always as cut and dried as is sometimes appears one hundred and fifty plus years later. Although we assume that the Gothic Revival dominated the period, this is only partially true as a range of styles from different cultural backgrounds held sway over much of the interiors market in Britain.

The self-proclaimed arbiter of taste the Journal of Design and Manufactures, perhaps summed up the genuine feeling of bewilderment met by most members of the general public when trying to choose a satisfying decorative style for their home:

'There is no general agreement in principles of taste: what principles may happen to be recognised seem only transitional...'

However, although decorative styles did indeed seem at times bewilderingly diverse, three particularised styles did seem to be more popularly available than perhaps others. These were classical, medieval and renaissance, three styles that were in fact to battle it out largely through architecture, for much of the rest of the nineteenth century, hence Britain's eclectic Victorian city and town centres.

Of course within these styles there were variations and grades and although connoisseurs of purity would no doubt have understood the correct formula for each decorative style, many were either unsure or unconcerned with specific and rigid purity. The industries that supplied the interiors market also ranged from a relatively accurate portrayal of classical, medieval and renaissance to one that was a time much more cavalier. This meant that a range of styles, and styles within styles were presented to the public through textiles, furnishings and wallpaper.

This active and exuberant cross-referencing of styles and cultures led to some obviously ill-advised pattern work, but also work that could be considered creative hybrids, decoration that produced a wholly Victorian, rather than one that was rigidly faithful to the past.

Illustration: Turner and Sons. Wallpaper design, 1849.

There were of course many critics who were concerned with the sometimes innovative approach to the decorative arts taken by designers and the companies that employed them. However, most seemed much more concerned with the lack of discipline that the general public displayed when making their own choices as to interior decoration, rather than employing the understanding presented by professional decorators.

The two wallpaper examples supplied by Turner and Co, both derive from 1849 and are an interesting example of the diversity of style and taste as presented by the mid-nineteenth century. The first colour example was apparently available in a range of colours, and although superficially gothic in style, it seems less adamant than some of the medieval inspired wallpaper pattern work that was available. This was obviously a pattern that could imply a number of fashionable styles without being severely specific, a perfect choice for any individual who was either confused or perhaps was not wealthy enough to change wallpaper decoration on a whim.

The second and vastly more complex decorative pattern is altogether different than the first. It is a beautifully meandering piece of work that is part arabesque, part medieval, part renaissance, all styles to all people. Technically it should not work as a finished decorative piece, but somehow does. Admittedly, it has not been published as an actual coloured swatch of wallpaper pattern, which could well have proved problematic, but as a black and white sketch it projects itself as a sophisticated piece of pattern work that could just as well be seen as either decoration or indeed ornament.

Interestingly, the Journal of Design and Manufactures which published both examples, suggested that this second decorative piece of pattern work should be sought by:

'The intelligent designer for woven fabrics [who] ought to obtain some suggestions from this decoration.'

That the design would have worked equally well woven, printed, embroidered, used as a rug or even as iron work, gives some suggestion as to the flexibility that could be found in mid-nineteenth century interior decorative work. Perhaps some of the particular intransigence portrayed by at least some of the more vociferous critics of the period might have been better placed in making either certain accommodations towards creatively decorative innovations, or expressing the multi-disciplinary capability of at least a proportion of pattern output during this busy and productive period.

Further reading links:

Pugin the Pattern Designer

2011-11-14T11:18:00.001Z

Illustration: Front cover of Pugin the Pattern Designer.

Just to let you all know that another ebook title has just rolled off the press. Pugin the Pattern Designer takes a look at A W N Pugin the pattern designer, rather than as is usual, the architect. Pugin was a consummate decorative artist with an intrinsic understanding of both colour and line. The book concentrates on two of Pugin's most popular and decoratively stunning titles, The Glossary of Ecclesiastical Ornament and Costume published in 1844, and Floriated Ornament which was published in 1849. Both titles give strong evidence as to the skill that Pugin directed towards his own personal textile, ceramic and wallpaper output, but also gives an indication as to how popular and influential his decorative work proved to be on the decorative arts during an after his lifetime.

Illustration: Sample pages from Pugin the Pattern Designer.

Pugin was an excellent draughtsman and understood pattern, decoration and ornament on such a fundamental level that it sometimes seems surprising that he is not as widely known as some of his contemporary Victorians. Rich colours and strident lines showed in much of his work and it was this confidence in decoration that perhaps made him so influential at least amongst succeeding generations of designers. C F A Voysey in particular held Pugin up as one of his main influences as far as pattern work was concerned.

Illustration: Sample pages from Pugin the Pattern Designer.

Pugin was also a reformer and understood that the vocabulary of pattern and decoration needed certain rules in order to suit the needs of the discipline it found itself in. he was a firm believer that surface pattern should be as flat and graphically motivated as possible and therefore much of his decorative work shows this belief.

I hope this book proves useful to anyone interested in the history of pattern work. The title can be bought by going to the Ebook page on the blog, or just clicking on the cover of the book as seen on the right hand side of the blog.

Illustration: Sample page from Pugin the Pattern Designer.