Part One Contents:
Introductory project: Frozen in Time
Project 1: Selecting and Identifying
Project 2: Recording and Capturing
Project 3: Picking and Portraying
Project 1: Selecting and Identifying
Project 2: Recording and Capturing
Project 3: Picking and Portraying
Introductory Project: Frozen in Time
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Stage One: Gathering Materials
I almost immediately felt drawn to Frozen in Time as my theme for this project. At first I just wrote a list of things that came to mind straight away: Broken, antiquities - ruins, but placed next to garish tourist centres that create a 'snapshot' of the place from one specific moment (the Acropolis as post-Persian War 5th C classical rather than as a site of an Ottoman Empire Mosque). Ice, archaeology, dirt colours and blues. Antiques (marine chronometers, large wooden boxes, shiny metals, loud). I found that I very quickly went to subject matter that I knew - Ancient Greek history and archaeology, but also weirdly things like marine chronometers. I then let the list sit for a day or so to sink in, before making another attempt - this time I drew out a mind map. A lot of the same kinds of things came up, but I tried to think about the visual properties of these images more than what they actually were (so instead of thinking about the way a specific time-space has been chosen for the restoration and presentation of a particular site (like the Acropolis in the example in my first list) I thought about the materials of decisions (stone, marble, ruins in my second list). Taking these lists together I have come up with the 'final' list that I will base my object collection on.
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Broken - ruins placed in garish contexts (white crumbling marble placed against bright blues and yellows). Stone, marble, washed off paint. Accidentally protected archaeology - Akrotiri and Pompeii - porous grey pumice rock. Early "gentlemen" archaeologists - very English and German, tweed. Old worn books, dusty and musty, warm brown leather, tea stained pages.
At the moment the UK is in lockdown because of COVID19, and I am in a high risk category. Because of this, I had to really rely on what I had in the house and very near surroundings to collect my objects for this project. I wanted to keep a colour scheme to the sort of old, dusty, tweedy kind with a pop of colour that still had a thematic significance, and so I ended up with the following objects:
- One brown tweed glove
- A small brown and grey stone
- An old copy of Lattimore's Iliad that is definitely falling apart
- A sprig of rosemary (I probably would have preferred olive or laurel leaves, but these were what we had in the appropriate kind of green)
- An archaeological map of the Athenian Acropolis, which has a deep blue cover
- A strip of brown card
- A strip of unbleached calico
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Having made the decision to go with the ancient history and archaeology route, which is particularly on my mind given the work I am currently doing outside the course (on the Underflow series) about my own past and future as an ancient historian, felt both emotionally connective and was already in the forefront of my mind. I originally chose a tweed jacket belonging to my husband, but decided to pick the ladies glove of mine to represent my own place within the space of the objects. The rest felt natural - though I considered the collection of objects I would look at over the course of a week or so, when I actually came to collect the objects the whole spread came together really quickly. I like that each of the objects has a roughness about it - the old torn pages of the book, the pilled glove, the brown and calico surfaces - and that this is juxtaposed by the shiny, smooth, bright blue map. I chose to use the natural wood background of the table, because that felt appropriate to the theme - white would have washed out the faded colours of the book and the calico too much I think.
Stage Two: Observing Qualities
I do quite a bit of sketching on my iPad using Adobe Fresco, but for this I did both some sketching on paper and on the iPad. Below is a selection of both.
Project One: Selecting and Identifying
What Are Textiles?
Textiles as objects cover a vast range of things that are woven or knitted together to make 'textiles' or fabrics. These don't need to be made out of traditional materials, but those traditional materials - while not textiles themselves, certainly come under a wider umbrella of 'textiles' as a genre, though are probably more correctly referred to as 'fibres'. These might be in a variety of states of readiness to be turned into textiles from unwashed, uncharted fleece, or picked cotton or flax for example - though to these fibres as yarns and threads that are ready to be woven or knitted. Although, I also realise that this is quite a limiting definition of what textiles are, particularly in terms of art. I think almost anything can become 'textile' when it is treated appropriately - when metal wires are woven or knitted together they can become a kind of textile (though this of course does not negate the 'metalness' of those objects). This also depends on how these materials are referred to. Chain mail, for instance, wasn't considered fabric even though it was used in a specific kind of clothing manufacture. From an art perspective, however, this also holds. A weaver who incorporates reclaimed plastics into a woven piece - whether alongside more traditional materials or not - is still creating a piece of textile are though the process(es) used.
There are some problems inherent in relying on the way a maker describes a material or work as to whether or not it should be considered 'textile' (or 'fibre') art or not. This may be why some juried textile art shows stipulate of minimum percentage of fibre products, and I have always assumed this refers to commonly understood 'textile' products, including yarn and fleece, fabrics of any type (whether made from natural materials like wool, cotton, or flax or from processed materials like polyester), embroidery and other types of threads, ropes and strings. But there must also be a point at which non-traditional materials can be made into textile materials though processes (like weaving and knitting). This is a question that I do not have an answer to.
Thus, as unsatisfying an answer as it may be, concepts of what textile are revolve around both materials and processes. Forms of materials, like those given in the paragraph above, are often traditionally understood as 'textiles' (particularly from a sewing or craft perspective), but that 'textiles' (particularly as an art form) should also include other materials that are manipulated or transformed though textile based processes - like weaving, knitting, stitching, embroidering, and knotting.
Narratives of Textiles
In Homer's Iliad, an epic poem describing the final year of a ten year war waged between Greeks and Trojans, there is a scene where Helen sits within the Trojan citadel and weaves an image of the battlefield below. In another episode from Greek mythology, a woman named Philomela uses the weaving of her sister, Procne's, wedding dress to tell her how Procne's soon-to-be husband had raped her, cut out her tongue, and enslaved her. Queen of Ithaca, Penelope, holds her many suitors off while awaiting her husband, Odysseus's, return from war by weaving and unravelling a funeral shroud for her father-in-law. Weaving is central to women's lives in the ancient world - both in mythology and in reality. Here is a quote from an article I wrote about the sensory experience of young Athenian girls weaving a sacred dress for the patron goddess, Athena:
Textiles as objects cover a vast range of things that are woven or knitted together to make 'textiles' or fabrics. These don't need to be made out of traditional materials, but those traditional materials - while not textiles themselves, certainly come under a wider umbrella of 'textiles' as a genre, though are probably more correctly referred to as 'fibres'. These might be in a variety of states of readiness to be turned into textiles from unwashed, uncharted fleece, or picked cotton or flax for example - though to these fibres as yarns and threads that are ready to be woven or knitted. Although, I also realise that this is quite a limiting definition of what textiles are, particularly in terms of art. I think almost anything can become 'textile' when it is treated appropriately - when metal wires are woven or knitted together they can become a kind of textile (though this of course does not negate the 'metalness' of those objects). This also depends on how these materials are referred to. Chain mail, for instance, wasn't considered fabric even though it was used in a specific kind of clothing manufacture. From an art perspective, however, this also holds. A weaver who incorporates reclaimed plastics into a woven piece - whether alongside more traditional materials or not - is still creating a piece of textile are though the process(es) used.
There are some problems inherent in relying on the way a maker describes a material or work as to whether or not it should be considered 'textile' (or 'fibre') art or not. This may be why some juried textile art shows stipulate of minimum percentage of fibre products, and I have always assumed this refers to commonly understood 'textile' products, including yarn and fleece, fabrics of any type (whether made from natural materials like wool, cotton, or flax or from processed materials like polyester), embroidery and other types of threads, ropes and strings. But there must also be a point at which non-traditional materials can be made into textile materials though processes (like weaving and knitting). This is a question that I do not have an answer to.
Thus, as unsatisfying an answer as it may be, concepts of what textile are revolve around both materials and processes. Forms of materials, like those given in the paragraph above, are often traditionally understood as 'textiles' (particularly from a sewing or craft perspective), but that 'textiles' (particularly as an art form) should also include other materials that are manipulated or transformed though textile based processes - like weaving, knitting, stitching, embroidering, and knotting.
Narratives of Textiles
In Homer's Iliad, an epic poem describing the final year of a ten year war waged between Greeks and Trojans, there is a scene where Helen sits within the Trojan citadel and weaves an image of the battlefield below. In another episode from Greek mythology, a woman named Philomela uses the weaving of her sister, Procne's, wedding dress to tell her how Procne's soon-to-be husband had raped her, cut out her tongue, and enslaved her. Queen of Ithaca, Penelope, holds her many suitors off while awaiting her husband, Odysseus's, return from war by weaving and unravelling a funeral shroud for her father-in-law. Weaving is central to women's lives in the ancient world - both in mythology and in reality. Here is a quote from an article I wrote about the sensory experience of young Athenian girls weaving a sacred dress for the patron goddess, Athena:
The acts of preparing the fleece, spinning it into yarn, and weaving the garment were mundane activities. They were not sacred in any way, and although weaving was a particular talent of Athena’s, it was not a uniquely Athenian skill. Weaving was commonplace, it permeated every level of society and all classical Greek women participated in the weaving industry at some point in their lives. There would have been many women who were well known as good, or even exceptional, weavers. To be blunt: weaving is not special. So, what makes weaving Athena’s peplos so prized?
Mackin Roberts, E. (2019) ‘Weaving for Athena: The Arrhephoroi, Panathenaia, and Mundane Acts as Religious Devotion’, Journal for Hellenic Religion 12: 76.
Textiles were an intimate part of the stories of women in Ancient Greece - both real and mythic. Textiles were not just the way that these women could express themselves, predominantly it was the way they could contribute to the economy, both by producing cloth for their own homes but also excess cloth for sale. Ancient Greece certainly wasn't the only society in which women contributed, at least in part, though textile production. That's one of the reasons, perhaps, that textiles are still considered to be 'women's work' (although, like many industries, men often still occupy the higher levels of professionalised industry).
Narratives work though textiles in a variety of ways. Through the clothes we wear and the way that we furnish our homes, textiles can help express self-proclaimed identities. In art, textiles can help to create and tell narratives in emotive ways though a variety of techniques and applications. But in many ways, textiles can tell narratives beyond the way that other art forms can, because we all have intimate relationships with textiles in our every day lives in ways that we don't necessarily have with other art forms.
Narratives work though textiles in a variety of ways. Through the clothes we wear and the way that we furnish our homes, textiles can help express self-proclaimed identities. In art, textiles can help to create and tell narratives in emotive ways though a variety of techniques and applications. But in many ways, textiles can tell narratives beyond the way that other art forms can, because we all have intimate relationships with textiles in our every day lives in ways that we don't necessarily have with other art forms.
Exercise 1.1: The Archive
I have chosen The Women's Library as the archive of focus. The library was originally housed by The Fawcett Society (originally The Women's Suffrage Committee) and is now housed at the London School of Economics (LSE). The archive contains items related to the fight for women's rights and equality from the suffrage movement to the present day. I focused on the collection of suffrage banners and paraphernalia that are presented in the archive, and can be found collected online though the library's digital archive on the Visual Arts Data Service (VADS). The three items I have chosen are:
I have chosen The Women's Library as the archive of focus. The library was originally housed by The Fawcett Society (originally The Women's Suffrage Committee) and is now housed at the London School of Economics (LSE). The archive contains items related to the fight for women's rights and equality from the suffrage movement to the present day. I focused on the collection of suffrage banners and paraphernalia that are presented in the archive, and can be found collected online though the library's digital archive on the Visual Arts Data Service (VADS). The three items I have chosen are:
Justice for Loyal Citizens (1908-1914). The Women's Library, LSE, 1998.18. Under Creative Commons license BY-NC-SA 3.0.
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Red Rosette With Pink Button (1907-1922). The Women's Library, LSE, 234183.2. Under Creative Commons license BY-NC-SA 3.0.
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NUWSS Men of Barnsley (1913). The Women's Library, LSE, 1998.41. Under Creative Commons license BY-NC-SA 3.0.
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Exercise 1.2: Substance and Story
Justice for Loyal Citizens
Substance
This is a British suffrage banner, hand made from cream and purple cotton sateen with letters appliquéd in purple satin and a stencilled border of berries (front) and appliquéd lettering on back. It measures 1.28m x 2.14m.
Story
The banner reads "Justice for Loyal Citizens" on the recto (front) and "Votes for Women" on the verso (back). This is a relatively large fabric protest banner from the suffrage movement, centred in London in the early 20th century. It's predominantly embellished with hand-applied appliqué shapes and letters that form both the floral border and the text on each side. There is obviously a considerable amount of work put into the banner, obviously indicating the seriousness with which the makers took both the task of creating the banner and the protest movement regarding winning voting rights for women in the UK. The text itself also tells this story. By referring to themselves as 'citizens' before 'women' - that is, they are 'citizens' on the recto and 'women' on the verso - the makers were, I think, trying to tap into a feeling of already being social contributors and therefore were due the right to full social contribution though the medium of voting. The design utilises the iconic purple and green colour palette of the suffrage movement in a striking but still feminine way. To me this shows that the protesting women were pushing back against counter-protest ideas of potential male subjugation or subordination, rather this demonstrates that they are trying to convey that they actively want to retain their feminine position while still being given voting rights.
Justice for Loyal Citizens
Substance
This is a British suffrage banner, hand made from cream and purple cotton sateen with letters appliquéd in purple satin and a stencilled border of berries (front) and appliquéd lettering on back. It measures 1.28m x 2.14m.
Story
The banner reads "Justice for Loyal Citizens" on the recto (front) and "Votes for Women" on the verso (back). This is a relatively large fabric protest banner from the suffrage movement, centred in London in the early 20th century. It's predominantly embellished with hand-applied appliqué shapes and letters that form both the floral border and the text on each side. There is obviously a considerable amount of work put into the banner, obviously indicating the seriousness with which the makers took both the task of creating the banner and the protest movement regarding winning voting rights for women in the UK. The text itself also tells this story. By referring to themselves as 'citizens' before 'women' - that is, they are 'citizens' on the recto and 'women' on the verso - the makers were, I think, trying to tap into a feeling of already being social contributors and therefore were due the right to full social contribution though the medium of voting. The design utilises the iconic purple and green colour palette of the suffrage movement in a striking but still feminine way. To me this shows that the protesting women were pushing back against counter-protest ideas of potential male subjugation or subordination, rather this demonstrates that they are trying to convey that they actively want to retain their feminine position while still being given voting rights.
Close up of the pink and red rosette from Many Lowndes's album. LSE Library.
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Red and Pink Rosette
Substance This is a button rosette of a type made and worn over several years of the women's suffrage movement in Britain. It is made of red and pink synthetic fabric, with a pink fabric covered button at the centre. It measures 7.6 cms x 5.2 cms. Story This rosette comes from Mary Lowndes album. Mary Lowndes was a stained-glass artists and key figure in the Arts and Crafts movement in London who became active in the suffrage movement in London in the early 20th century, founding the Artists' Suffrage League in 1907 and began making banners for the NUWSS (National Union of Women's Suffrage Societies) by commission shortly thereafter. In 1910 she published a guide book about successful banner making for the protest movement. This rosette was likely not made by Mary herself, but was included in an album of sketches and influences that she put together to aid in the creation of protest banners. The rosette is obviously well worn, indicating that it was likely worn over several protest activities and marches by whomever it was made by. 
From the page of Mary Lowndes's album containing the red and pink rosette. LSE Library.
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NUWSS Men of Barnsley
Substance
This is a British suffrage banner, made by a combination of embroidery and hand painting. It has a red cotton ground, embellished with green cotton tape, white painted lettering, and white paper cut-outs. The banner is finished with green cord and tassels. The banner measures roughly 1.43m x 82cms x 30cms.
Story
The banner reads "NUWSS 7898 Men of Barnsley Petition For Women's Suffrage in 1913" on the recto (front). In comparison to the first banner, the colour choice here is far more strikingly 'masculine' - with white lettering appliquéd against a deep red background. It does not utilise the iconic colours of the suffrage movement, and does not attempt to convey an underlying message but rather falls back on the conveyance of fact: that 7,898 men, in Barnsley, signed a petition in support of women's suffrage, and that this occurred in 1913 (though the bottom portion of the banner is obviously added as an afterthought and the text 'in 1913' is glued on paper rather than appliquéd fabric.
Substance
The fabric used in all three examples is woven. There are no identifying marks on either of the banners nor the rosette, and makers and designer are unknown, though they were clearly members of one of the suffrage movements in London in the early 20th century (it may be that Mary Lowndes was involved in the design and production of the NUWSS Men of Barnsley banner). All textiles are now too delicate to be washed, though would have originally likely been hand wash only. The origin of the fabric is unknown, though is likely to be UK made, and therefore we might guess that it was produced in the north-west of the country around the thriving textile production centres like Lancashire. There are obvious issues with all three items regarding the discovery of this information, both because of the providence of the items but also because at present the archive is closed due to the COVID19 pandemic crisis. I am hoping that later in the year I will be able to gain entry into the archive and will revisit this exercise then.
Nostalgia
I wanted to deal with the issue of nostalgia separately here, because at present it feels exceptionally pertinent. The last few years have seen a variety of protest movements take hold in London (where I live), and the UK more broadly. These have been predominantly around the issue of Brexit and, more recently, of the Black Lives Matter movement, but there have also been local iterations of the Women's March and protests against the state visit by Donald Trump. Protests banners and other paraphernalia are still utilised in great quantities, though often produced far more quickly than the banners of the suffrage movement would have been, simply because the availability of materials has changed. In addition to these protest movements, there have been calls to save and collate protest paraphernalia to create archives of this material, in the same way that The Women's Library at LSE and prior iterations of this collection have been preserved.
Substance
This is a British suffrage banner, made by a combination of embroidery and hand painting. It has a red cotton ground, embellished with green cotton tape, white painted lettering, and white paper cut-outs. The banner is finished with green cord and tassels. The banner measures roughly 1.43m x 82cms x 30cms.
Story
The banner reads "NUWSS 7898 Men of Barnsley Petition For Women's Suffrage in 1913" on the recto (front). In comparison to the first banner, the colour choice here is far more strikingly 'masculine' - with white lettering appliquéd against a deep red background. It does not utilise the iconic colours of the suffrage movement, and does not attempt to convey an underlying message but rather falls back on the conveyance of fact: that 7,898 men, in Barnsley, signed a petition in support of women's suffrage, and that this occurred in 1913 (though the bottom portion of the banner is obviously added as an afterthought and the text 'in 1913' is glued on paper rather than appliquéd fabric.
Substance
The fabric used in all three examples is woven. There are no identifying marks on either of the banners nor the rosette, and makers and designer are unknown, though they were clearly members of one of the suffrage movements in London in the early 20th century (it may be that Mary Lowndes was involved in the design and production of the NUWSS Men of Barnsley banner). All textiles are now too delicate to be washed, though would have originally likely been hand wash only. The origin of the fabric is unknown, though is likely to be UK made, and therefore we might guess that it was produced in the north-west of the country around the thriving textile production centres like Lancashire. There are obvious issues with all three items regarding the discovery of this information, both because of the providence of the items but also because at present the archive is closed due to the COVID19 pandemic crisis. I am hoping that later in the year I will be able to gain entry into the archive and will revisit this exercise then.
Nostalgia
I wanted to deal with the issue of nostalgia separately here, because at present it feels exceptionally pertinent. The last few years have seen a variety of protest movements take hold in London (where I live), and the UK more broadly. These have been predominantly around the issue of Brexit and, more recently, of the Black Lives Matter movement, but there have also been local iterations of the Women's March and protests against the state visit by Donald Trump. Protests banners and other paraphernalia are still utilised in great quantities, though often produced far more quickly than the banners of the suffrage movement would have been, simply because the availability of materials has changed. In addition to these protest movements, there have been calls to save and collate protest paraphernalia to create archives of this material, in the same way that The Women's Library at LSE and prior iterations of this collection have been preserved.
Black Lives Matter protest banners:
Brexit protest banners:
It's easy to see that protest banners have moved on somewhat from the iterations of the suffrage movement. From the serious and somber list of the most recent black men killed by police in the US and calls on White folks to speak up, to the witty and jokey Brexit banners we have moved away from the articulation of statements and facts of the early 20th century. In part this is to do with the materials involved. It is far less feasible to hand embroider or appliqué the kind of 'disposable' sign that we see in more recent protests.
The role of textiles in the creation of these banners - from a base medium to a tactile experience in which the women involved would literally craft their message - is not replaced by the 'fast protest paraphernalia' of scribbling or painting or collaging onto cardboard. In fact, I would argue that it is precisely because earlier protest movements did have to engage with the 'slow' techniques of textiles that we have a collective affinity towards the protest banner at all. It is a form of living nostalgia that has passed though textiles and into other media.
The role of textiles in the creation of these banners - from a base medium to a tactile experience in which the women involved would literally craft their message - is not replaced by the 'fast protest paraphernalia' of scribbling or painting or collaging onto cardboard. In fact, I would argue that it is precisely because earlier protest movements did have to engage with the 'slow' techniques of textiles that we have a collective affinity towards the protest banner at all. It is a form of living nostalgia that has passed though textiles and into other media.
Project Two: Recording and Capturing
Exercise 1.3: Making Marks
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