Wild Textiles E-Book

Alice Fox

• Herausgeber: Batsford
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 107

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

A guide to harnessing the world of nature to create sustainable textile art. Textile artist Alice Fox shows how to work with found, foraged, gathered and grown materials to create fabulous textile pieces that are inspired by, and made from, nature. She encourages crafters to be open minded and experimental, using local (and sometimes) unconventional materials, working with the seasons and learning what materials are available at different times of year to ground artists in natural cycles and integrate creative activity with a strong sense of place and character. Alongside advice on growing your own plants (such as flax or nettles) for creative work, the book is packed with practical ideas for foraging – from weeds, dandelions and other plants useful for making cordage, or leaves that can be stitched, quilted and shaped into vessels, to grass, wool, plastics and mud that can be gathered and delightfully repurposed by the textile artist. Other ideas for found materials include stones, shells and wood that can be wrapped or woven into, as well as a multitude of urban treasures that find a new life in creative hands.

Leseprobe

WILD TEXTILES

Wrapped Stone: Dandelion Braid. Stone, wrapped with braided dandelion stems and stitched in re-purposed found plastic.

(re)new threads. A collection of 36 balls, each constructed from hand-twisted cordage made using waste fabrics.

Contents

Foreword

Introduction

1. Engaging with the Natural World

2. Grown

3. Foraged

4. Found

5. Gathered

6. Re-purposed

Final Thoughts

Further Reading

Resources and Contributors

Index

Acknowledgements

Foreword

This book aims to foster a spirit of engagement with the natural world through the creative and sustainable use of textile techniques with foraged, found and grown fibres and materials. Working with the seasons and learning what materials are available at different times of year helps to ground us in natural cycles and integrates creative activity with other parts of our lives. Taking an open-minded and informed approach to resources means we can make use of what is available locally and experiment with unconventional materials.

Art enriches our lives, but it also makes us think in new ways. It can raise questions and awareness, and provide insight in a way that is approachable. If we can work in a sustainable way and help other people to think about the impact of their lives, then what we make can be a positive force for change.

Coiled bindweed vessel. Dried bindweed stems coiled and stitched with bindweed.

Long dandelion stems gathered for drying. These grow longest amongst tall grass.

Introduction

My previous book, Natural Processes in Textile Art, outlined my relationship with the natural world and how this has influenced my creative practice. I have always felt a strong desire and responsibility to live with a small environmental footprint and with consideration of the impact of my actions in all areas of life. As a global population, we are increasingly aware of the devastating impact our actions are having on the fragile planet we inhabit. We are finally understanding just how imperative it is to lessen that impact, now.

We can all make a difference in the decisions we make every day, however insignificant that may seem at times. My lifestyle is by no means perfect. While I recognize that there are always adjustments that could be made to decrease my own impact, some shifts also require changes in infrastructure that we wait for others to implement. There are, however, areas of my life – specifically my work and artistic practice – over which I have control and where I can make decisions that have a bearing on my own environmental footprint.

I took on an allotment at the same time as starting my Master’s degree. The allotment plot was intended to form a focus for my practice-based research – a kind of long-term residency where I would have control over how I engaged with the site and use the materials available there. This focus would allow me to really explore the possibilities for self-sufficiency in materials for my work. I have long admired the approach that some basket-makers or woodworkers take, where all their materials are gathered or grown by themselves. The purity of the objects they produce, whether functional or decorative, is the culmination of their care and knowledge of their materials and the craftsmanship arising from working with those resources. I was seeking a way to bring that purity and honesty into my own work.

While exploring the allotment plot and the possibilities for materials that were available there, I was also exploring the ethical underpinnings of my practice. I wrote myself an artist’s manifesto (shown opposite), or an expression of creative goals. This statement sums up my intentions for engagement with the materials available on my plot, but also declares my intentions for my practice in general.

Gathered plant fibres drying in the allotment shed, including nettle fibre (hanging), bindweed stems, bramble stems and garlic leaves.

My artist’s manifesto:

• Develop a deep connection with place and material.

• Be as low-impact as possible.

• Use local materials as much as possible. If using new materials, make sure they are as responsibly sourced as possible.

• Be experimental. Always consider potential use of objects, materials and substance, especially before discarding anything.

• Work with natural processes. Embrace cycles of change.

• Recording activity and experience is as much an outcome as ‘made’ objects.

Hybrid Objects. Looped cordage (bramble and sweetcorn) and random-weave bindweed with found tools, shown in the allotment shed.

My manifesto is pinned to the studio wall and is something I come back to again and again, like a little reminder whispering in my ear whenever I am thinking about the best way to approach things and a way to stay true to the fundamentals that are important to me.

More and more artists are considering the impact of the materials they use in their work. There is increasing interest in the use of natural pigments, botanical dyes, sustainable photographic and print-making processes, natural fibres, re-purposing, and mending. With that growth in interest comes an increase in availability of information and workshops, and so the movement grows.

It is important to remember that just because a product or medium is natural, it isn’t necessarily a low-impact choice. For example, plant-based pigments produced halfway around the world or cloth made from organically grown natural fibres can still have an environmental impact. Complex supply chains can make it difficult to find out exactly where and how a product has been grown, processed and finished. Being as well informed as possible about the materials you choose is one step along the way.

There is a growing number of projects worldwide that are looking to re-generate local fibre-producing systems. These are known as ‘fibersheds’, a model that originated in Northern California and that now has many affiliated projects (see Further Reading, here). Through a network of support, information sharing and connectivity, communities are increasingly able to reclaim control over how and where their fibre and textiles are produced.

Choosing to work with local, sustainable materials that you know the history of means you can work in the full knowledge of their provenance. This approach is inherently responsible. Of course, there are restrictions built into this method of working, but boundaries can also be useful in narrowing down overwhelming possibilities and pushing you to work within a set of constraints.

When you set yourself boundaries that you feel comfortable working within you also get to decide at what point to compromise. For me, this is recognizing that some basic commercially produced materials are still required, such as sketchbooks, paper, drawing pens, graphite and a few selected threads. I use new cloth in some of my workshops but also look for opportunities to re-purpose, and I encourage students to do that too. Buying less and using the materials that we already have stashed away is the most sustainable approach.

Studio wall with samples, found objects and experiments.

Chapter 1

Engaging with the Natural World

Dandelion stem cordage in random weave.

Localness

The fibres and processes that are included in this book are ones that I have worked with myself. My examples are specific to plants growing in the UK, so in a temperate northern climate. Whether the same plants are available or not to the reader, I explain a general approach that may be applicable to any location, and the processes will often be transferable to similar fibres in other regions.

By exploring the potential of the plants and materials that are available to me, specifically on my allotment and in my garden, my practice is rooted in my local area. By working with what I have, my environmental footprint is kept to a minimum. This approach also enables me to develop my relationship with my surroundings, appreciating what is nearby. I am constantly adding to my understanding of the materials that are at my disposal. With that growth in knowledge, I can work in a way that feels right to me. Most of these materials are humble at best or considered as weeds or waste by many. Getting to know the creative possibilities of what is often overlooked means that these materials can take on new value, as time and effort are spent on transforming them.

Bramble fibre extracted from bramble stems, hanging to dry in the allotment shed.

Connection with place

In Natural Processes in Textile Art and my chapter in Insights (see Further Reading, here), I wrote about the importance of landscape and ways of capturing a sense of place. Many of us feel deeply connected to where we live or love to visit, and feel drawn to recording that experience through our creative work:

Being outside or travelling through the landscape can bring a deep sense of engagement or connectedness with what I am seeing, sensing, experiencing: wonder, joy, elation, invigoration.

I feel that my work forms a record of my experience of the natural world and that by using objects and materials that I have gathered, I am forming a tangible link to those places.

It is important that our relationship with the places from which we might gather materials is healthy and reciprocal. Understanding what makes for sensitive gathering is the key to this, so we only take a small amount of what is abundant and what we can individually make use of. Robin Wall Kimmerer explains ‘the honorable harvest’ (see Further Reading, here), which is not only based on the physical world but also in asking permission; taking only what is needed and giving thanks for it. This is the reciprocal approach that indigenous relationships form with the land. Modern society sadly often overlooks such an approach, with individual benefit winning. Kimmerer said:

One of our responsibilities as human people is to find ways to enter into reciprocity with the more-than-human world. We can do it through gratitude, through ceremony, through land stewardship, science, art, and in everyday acts of practical reverence.

‘Commons thinking’, based around shared management and harvesting with non-monetary interactions, is a particularly appropriate way of approaching resources sustainably. Traditionally, this approach related to land management, but in our digital age this can also apply to technological resources, and to communities, rituals and resources (see here for more on the idea of ‘commoning’).

Dandelion stem cordage in random weave 30cm x 30cm (12in x 12in).

Seasonality

Once you start to understand the possibilities of the fibres and materials that are available to you locally, you will also find that there is a pattern of activity required throughout the year to make the best of opportunities for gathering. The harvesting of fibre- or plant-based dyestuffs is similar to that of grown or gathered foods. You’ll learn when the best times are to harvest certain plants available to you and monitor the local conditions and those particular to each year. These patterns are not something you can learn instantly, but develop over time, along with your understanding of your local patch.

Certain times of the year bring abundance, and it can be overwhelming trying to gather everything in. It is good to recognize that if you miss the optimum gathering time one year, another will come around the next. As each growing season passes, your experience accumulates and matures. You may also find that you still have materials gathered from the previous year when the time comes for this season’s harvest. Perhaps it is wise to clear out and compost any unused plant materials from the previous season once you are gathering the new crop, but this may depend on how much space you have available for storing materials.

Each person will have their own mosaic of interests and resources that develops over time related to a specific place. The pattern of seasonal activity that I have settled into for gathering and processing fibres on my plot is as follows:

Spring: gathering and drying dandelion stems; gathering daffodil leaves (once spent). Finishing off processing fibres gathered the previous year.

Summer: gathering and stripping nettles (fresh); gathering garlic leaf, bramble fibre, bindweed, all for drying.

Autumn: drying sweetcorn husks; flax and nettle retting (see here) then drying.

Winter: Processing flax and nettle then spinning; constructing with all fibres.

Other materials will be gathered for dyeing, printing or constructing as and when they are available. I tend to work much more at the plot during the summer. The winter sees me working in the main studio more, processing materials and then using them in the construction of sculptural objects and surfaces.

Processing nettle fibre with a rubber mallet for splitting open the stems; the fibre is then scraped with the back of a knife and hung to dry.

Working with hand-processed materials