Collapse Weave with Overtwist Yarns: It All Comes Out in the Wash

I just finished weaving and plying the fringe of another collapse-weave scarf in silk and silk crepe. I love seeing the magic in the water, to use the words of Laura Fry. Here's a video, maybe a little rough around the edges, but successfully capturing the immediate change that happens when you first immerse this kind of fabric in water.

Collapse Weave -- on Four Harnesses!

In 16 years of weaving, this may be my favorite piece: a collapse-weave scarf in 60/2 silk and 30/1 overtwist wool. Black and white checkered pattern, with a warp of 60/2 silk stripes and the weft alternating between 60/2 silk and the overtwist wool yarn.

Here's the drawdown.

It's that simple! Understand that, while the weft color is all black on the drawdown, you have to alternate (A-B-A-B) between 60/2 silk in black and 30/1 overtwist wool in black. And while the weft color changes to white, you have to alternate between 60/2 silk in white and 30/1 overtwist wool in white. The weft floats are the overtwist, which pulls the fabric in, making it collapse into a fabric with a soft and cushy hand. The sett is 54 epi, which makes for a high quality fabric with a wonderful hand -- but it takes a long time to weave.

The floats (the wild and twisted yarns you see in the photo) are on the front only. Here, below, is a look at both the front and the back of the scarf.

Most weavers know that 60/2 silk is available from Webs in Northampton, Massachusetts. Few weavers, however, are familiar with where to buy overtwist, crepe, and other specialty yarns. Habu Textiles is one retailer, here in the States, but I purchased my 30/1 overtwist from the Handweavers Studio and Gallery in London. Even with shipping, the prices aren't bad and the yarn is wonderful!

The scarf is for sale now in my Etsy shop, but I'm still thinking I don't want to sell it....

'What Is Turned Taqueté? A Weave by Any Other Name...'

I have been trying, with modest success, to understand the weave structure known as Turned Taqueté. 

Turned Taqueté is described alternately as polychrome Summer and Winter but without tabby... or warp-faced compound plain weave... or like Samitum but based on plain weave, not twill.... Quite honestly, I do not have enough weaving background -- or I am not enough of a math-head -- to fully understand all the analyses and terminology. I do know that there is a tie-down weft and that the pattern warps float over three wefts and then are tied down as well. Ideally, the weft is much finer than the warp, allowing the warp pattern to show. And for what I want to do -- that is, paint two different warps and then weave them together in one fabric, so that the colors play against each other and with the pattern -- Turned Taqueté is terrific. Alliteration intended. 

Simply put, this structure provides for a wonderful drape and beautiful design possibilities. I wove the sample above (and below) on 8 harnesses using two hand-painted warps in 20/2 silk and a weft of black 60/2 silk.  

The incomparable Bonnie Inouye designed the pattern and I modified the treadling a bit. Below is a small version of the drawdown. (If you would like me to share with you the WIF file, send me an email at dkovn@hotmail.com.) The pattern appears in the most recent issue of the Complex Weavers Journal, in an article by Inouye, "Turned Taqueté, An Introduction." In the article, she also discusses how to draw this structure on a network, using either Fiberworks or WeavePoint software. Network drafting is another wonderfully intricate subject -- one that is discussed and illustrated at length in Marian Stubenitsky's new book, Weaving with Echo and Iris. Network drafting allows weavers to soften and curve their patterns, so that the structure appears fluid rather than rectilinear.

I think I have just dipped my toe in the water....

An Entirely Arbitrary Look at Convergence 2014

From a very biased viewpoint: Mine! A group of Rochester Guild members -- including two "Convirgins," as weavers affectionately call those who are attending the convention for the first time -- journeyed to Providence on Wednesday, July 16, to see the fashion show and the exhibits. And, of course, the vendors.

For those who aren't familiar with what Convergence is: this is the biennial convention of the Handweavers Guild of America, held somewhere in the continental United States and drawing a couple of thousand weavers, teachers, exhibitors, and vendors from all over the world. It is an inspiring event and -- because it's usually held on the West Coast -- I was not about to miss it.

My traveling companions (left to right): Leslie Mendelson, Karen Berk, Hope Herting, Jenn Snyder, Teri Silsby, and me. Jenn, a Rhode Island native, was our wonderful hostess AND tour guide.

Among the many tempting vendors: Master weaver Randy Darwall, 

whose scarves are pictured above

The Glimakra booth, which to me is pretty much 

the weaving equivalent of Disneyworld....

None of us took classes, but instead visited the exhibits and toured the Providence area -- again, guided by Jenn Snyder. The fashion show was a highlight and spurred a lot of discussion. The first-place winner was not a weaver, for instance, but the garment itself was masterful and showed great skill in surface design, couture sewing, and garment design.

(I had an item juried into the show -- but found out at the last minute that my garment had been disqualified because there was a tear in the back seam. I was told that they had received the garment that way, but there is no way on earth I would have shipped it like that. Most likely, it tore when a model tried it on. Still, quite honestly, the fabric was fragile and I had not reinforced the seam. I learned NOT to do that again, for sure. A painful experience but also a lesson.)

Moving on: the Complex Weavers exhibit, named "Complexity," was a highlight of the conference for me. Again, for those who don't know, Complex Weavers is an international organization of handweavers who are interested in working with more than four harnesses -- although four-harness weaving is also explored by this group, as it can offer many challenges for advanced weavers. 

A dimensional wall hanging by Susie Taylor,

double woven on 10 shafts with an origami layer 

Bonnie Inouye, whose work I admire greatly, wove this Echo weave piece

with looped and interlocked strings on 24 shafts

A detail of a Jacquard-woven piece by Lois Bryant,

in weft-backed 8-shaft twills and 16-shaft satin

One of my personal favorites: a scarf by Lesley Willcock 

created from network threading, woven on 32 shafts 

in a treadling range of 8-end satins

The first-place winner was another piece by Lesley Willcock: a 4-color double weave

using an extended parallel on a network threading and woven on 32 shafts

Another personal favorite: a fancy twill scarf by Carol Wooten woven on 32 shafts

This scarf is by Elizabeth Calnan, woven on 32 shafts 

in a double-weave point threading

So much to see, so much to learn! With all the conversations, reading, and viewing, my head was fit to burst. The ideas will last me for at least two years -- until the next Convergence, just about....

Journey to London: A Class with Ann Richards, author of "Textiles That Shape Themselves"

For me, it was a trip to Mecca! Traveling from Rochester to Toronto to Heathrow to the Islington section of London -- all for a three-day workshop at the Handweavers Studio and Gallery with Ann Richards. This British weaver creates meticulous, fascinating pleats, crimps, bubbles, wriggles, and bumps in fabric woven with seemingly ordinary yarns. The secret is the potential energy of the yarns, which is released when they relax and move about in warm water. Thus the workshop title, "Just Add Water."

I have long admired Richards' work -- lo, since the turn of the millenium, ever since I saw a piece by her in the venerable but no longer published "Weaver's" magazine. Then, a couple of years ago, she produced a gorgeous book, "Weaving Textiles that Shape Themselves" -- and, thanks to Google, I found an upcoming workshop with her. (For more on the book, click here. Thanks also to my guild, the Weavers' Guild of Rochester, for giving me a scholarship to cover the cost of tuition.)

The book

Ann on the left with a fellow student, Sue Wright

For anyone who knows her work, you'll understand why I made the effort to get there. For those who don't know her work, here are some examples.

The pleats are achieved through structure and washing, not by ironing!

A scarf on exhibit at the Handweavers Studio

A doubleweave sample she brought to the workshop

Here's the other side

Over the course of three days, we explored the use of Z twist and S twist yarns; overtwisted wool, silk, and cotton; silk/stainless blend yarn; bamboo; silk crepe; linen; wool crepe -- dozens of fibers from Japan and Italy, primarily. The weave structures varied widely, too, from plain weave to doubleweave to Han damask to Swedish Lace to Leno to plain weave using simple "cram and space" techniques in the sleying -- to the extent that I felt that I was learning a lot about weave structures as well. Then, into the water they went, which produced the effects we were there for.

Before washing: plain weave in vertical and horizontal stripes of S and Z twist

After washing

Before washing: "Cram and space" warp of 60/2 silk, 

plain weave with a variety of overtwisted and normal weft yarns

Same fabric after washing

Leno gauze collapse weave after washing

Plain weave that makes a curved fabric, due to progressively narrower warp stripes
of Z and S twist creating a gradual transition from crepon to crepe 

If the purpose of a workshop is to motivate and inspire -- and to take home new tools to achieve new aims -- then this one delivered for sure. Many thanks to Wendy Morris, owner of the Handweavers Studio and a great weaver herself, for sponsoring this event. My gratitude also to Ann Richards for the energy, intelligence, and artistry she shared with all of us.

Shibori with Osage Orange, Indigo, and a Bit of Cochineal

The fabric is a cotton/linen jersey I bought from Mood (the official fabric store for Project Runway) in New York City. Above, a detail that shows a color I take great pride in: turquoise! It doesn't appear throughout, of course, but if you look at the shading on the perimeter of the golden rectangles, there it is. Turquoise is hard to achieve with natural dyes, at least for me, and yet it's one of my favorite colors.

"Sawdust, Leaves and Bugs" is what I like to call the combination, and it's the title of a course I hope to teach soon at the Weaving and Fiber Arts Center. First, I immersed the entire fabric in a vat of osage orange dye, purchased from a friend, David Barnet, who is a master woodworker with the Rochester Folk Art Guild. (For more on this talented group of people, click here.) Second, I did some tying and clamping -- using techniques that are jokingly called "dirty shibori" -- before immersing it in a vat of cochineal. In this case, the cochineal wasn't as bright, perhaps because I used the vat once before: It doesn't really show up on this fabric, other than lending a red-gold hue in the center of the rectangles above.

The last and best part, of course, was to dip the fabric five times in an indigo vat. Before dipping, I used a number of shibori-resist techniques: arashi, where I wrapped and tied it around a piece of PVC pipe; knotting, in which I simply tied four overhand knots in a length of fabric; folding and clamping with rectangular blocks of wood; and folding and securing with closepins.

My favorite results are on the back (pause for snarky comment: of course), where I used the arashi-shibori technique of wrapping the fabric around a PVC pipe and then tying with cord.

 This is the back of the garment

A closeup of the back, showing that elusive turquoise

I made another top, using similar techniques, and the results were completely different. My thinking is that the amount of fabric exposed to the dyes was very different in the two garments, which meant that the color blending was entirely different as well.

Sawdust, leaves, and bugs yield wonderful results! Thanks for reading!

Here's the Coat I Wove with S and Z Overtwist

This coat is woven with handspun overtwist singles, as I wrote about a couple of posts ago. (I did not include the blood, sweat, tears, and toil that went into it as well....)

Three kinds of wefts made three different fabrics: the checks on the front used both gold and burgundy as weft yarns, while the back was woven with only the gold yarn as weft. Which you see here.

The sleeves and inside front panel used burgundy yarn as weft -- shown below.

I am loving this coat! The fabric collapses and crinkles wonderfully, adding flexibility and interest to the garment, which is my own design. (Partly out of necessity, because I barely had enough fabric to make a jacket, let alone follow a pattern.)

I knitted the color using a brioche stitch from Barbara Walker's first volume of knitting stitches and added a Dorset button for a decorative closure. It isn't really used as a button, because I secured it with a sturdy hidden snap -- which I prefer on fabric like this, because it's hard to create a buttonhole that doesn't stretch and distort the fabric somewhat.

It's for sale in my Etsy shop, but I am not so sure that, ultimately, I won't keep it for myself. Those are the perks of making your own garments: If you like it, it CAN be yours!