Through the Weaving Glass: Some Thoughts on Counting Picks...

 

The photo above shows a "pick-glass," outlining a square inch of cloth. I took the photo with my iPhone, shooting through the lens of the pick glass, and the image is surprisingly clear.

(OK, I have to confess here that I always thought it was spelled "pic" -- until I looked up "pick-glass" on Google. Yes, it's true. Now I know.)

If you're thinking this is a useful device and you want one, you can find them on Amazon, of course, by searching for "counting glass" or "thread counting glass" or "pick counting glass." I'm sure they're used all the time in the textile industry. For weavers, it's a very handy device. 

In the photo above, I have woven what looks like a 24 picks per inch on a warp sett at 24 warp ends per inch -- which would be a balanced weave, except that I'm using different weights of yarn in the warp and the weft. (The orange warp ends are 16/2 bamboo and the pale green weft yarns are silk/stainless steel at an unknown grist, something like 20,000 yards per pound.)

Also, this is double weave, so there are another 24 warp ends and 24 weft picks on the back side of the cloth. You can see some of the warp and weft peering out in lilac and turquoise, respectively. So we're really talking about 48 epi and 48 ppi total. I decided to use my pick glass to reassure myself that I wasn't beating the gossamer-fine weft too hard.

Because weavers are persnickety, right? And rightfully so, as we want our cloth to have a good hand and our weave structures to look just so, whether it's plain weave or satin or twill or whatever. For that reason, weaving patterns will often specify ends per inch and picks per inch along with the type of yarns to be used.

If we're not paying attention, we wind up with this:

Deflected double weave with squashed motifs, woven by me when I wasn't thinking

Instead of this:

Deflected double weave with balanced motifs, after I started beating gentler

Here is another sample, a well-balanced 12-shaft shadow-weave design of mine, woven by Maryann Ariizumi:

Shadow weave should be sett and beat as a balanced weave, because the structure is essentially plain weave, with floats of 2 ends or picks here and there. Warp and weft yarns are identical, typically.

One way to achieve this kind of balance in your weaving is to simply eyeball the pattern. Twills, for instance, should rise at a 45-degree angle. Another way is to take a piece of paper and fold it in at the corner, like this: 

If you fold it carefully, so that the top of the fold falls along the horizontal and the side of the fold falls along the vertical, you'll get a 45-degree angle, which you can just place on top of your fabric to compare it with what you've woven. Works great!

But other times, when you're weaving with a fine warp and/or weft and you're aiming for a specific number of picks per inch, you will definitely want to count threads. 

A pick glass also helps in analyzing structures and trying to check out errors or the direction of yarn twist (S or Z). It's very comforting to know for certain what's going on.

In fact, I carry mine in my purse, along with a 6" ruler. How's THAT for the definition of a weaving nerd?

Same fabric as in the first photo, through the camera lens

Thanks for reading!

Three-Layer Puzzle Scarf: Less Complex Than It Looks!

I have been working on this piece for lo, these many years, ever since I saw a photo on Pinterest with a draft that I still can't figure out. Perhaps it involves actually cutting out some of the warp blocks -- I'm talking scissors here -- to achieve the difference between the upper and lower sections of the fabric.

I know how to design the top portion of the fabric and I know how to design the bottom portion of the fabric. But how do you weave a design that incorporates both? If you look closely, you will see at the top of the photo that some of the warp blocks just disappear. I love the ingenuity of this, but I'm not prepared to weave the many, many samples required to get it right.

Around the same time, I came upon a couple of photos of work by the late, great Sandra Rude. 

Above scarves woven by Sandra Rude

I spent a long time working out the threading, tieup, and treadling for the second piece and, long story short, here is what I came up with. It calls for 20 shafts.

Although I have a loom with 32 shafts, I didn't want to replicate Rude's lovely design -- rather, I wanted to create one of my own, hopefully as interesting, but with a clearer pattern. So here is my version of a deflected-double-weave puzzle, calling for just 6 shafts:

Here's what the full drawdown looks like:

It looks quite simple to weave, right? 

Absolutely not, especially if you want to full the fabric, as I did (to reduce problems with the long floats and make the layers more distinct). I won't give you the long list of my missteps, but here's just one of the samples that didn't work.

Note that there are two warp blocks on each selvage that appear to be spaced farther away from the other blocks. Actually, the sett is the same throughout: 18 epi for 18/2 merino. The problem lies with the process of fulling itself, which stretches the outer layers away from the others. 

Details: The warp blocks were 18 ends each. The sett was 2 ends per dent in a 12-dent reed for 9 dents and then leave 3 dents empty and repeat. I had to weave the weft blocks in a similar fashion, which called for a very careful, gentle beat.

In my view, the above sample looks like some kind of netting. So I put on another, longer warp and decided that I would first create more samples and then weave a long scarf once I got it right. For this next set of samples, I spaced the two warp blocks on either selvage just one dent apart, leaving the remainder of the blocks 3 dents apart as I did with the first sample. 

Here's how that looked (you can't really see the blocks at the selvages -- but they're better, trust me):

Better, yes, but still not what I was going for. I wanted a softer, flatter appearance, somewhere between the gauzy fabric you'd get if you didn't full it at all and the rope-like, corded fabric you see above. Finally it dawned on me: I needed to talk to a felter! Felters know a lot about what you might call the Goldlilocks Effect, making sure their fabric is not too stiff yet not too gauzy.

And this is what fiber friends are for. So I called up Marie Brate, a talented felter in our guild, and asked her to give me some pointers. Marie brought over some bubble wrap and showed me how to keep the fabric flat and add just enough soapy water to encourage fulling.

Marie Brate to the rescue!

Sometimes I feel like it takes me a long time to figure things out -- to realize that this shawl called for skillful weaving AND skillful fulling. Prior to having this seemingly obvious insight, I would simply agitate a piece like this in the washing machine or by hand. I've learned that this creates a much denser look. There is a place for that, but not for a scarf that I want to wear.

Turns out the finishing was harder than the weaving itself. It took hours, mainly because I wanted the details to be just right, which included separating every layer at every juncture by hand.

I went through this entire process once and saw that the fabric truly needed more fulling. So I washed and fulled it again -- and then I had to separate each and every layer again, by hand.

It was worth it, however, because I'm happy with the results. 

Thanks for reading!

 

A New Book from Ann Richards: 'Weaving Structure and Substance'

This is a case where you can judge a book by its cover: One, it's written by Ann Richards, a weaver who for decades has achieved a singular beauty in her work. And two, the photo itself captures you, presenting a detailed image of her elegantly constructed "origami" cloth.

The text and photos do not disappoint. Richards, who trained as a biologist before studying weaving at the West Surrey College of Art and Design (now the University for the Creative Arts, Farnham), brings her skills of scientific analysis and her love of nature to bear on her art. In Chapter 1, "Endless Forms Most Beautiful," next to sketches of a dragonfly wing detail and a cross section of its edge, she shares a photo of one of her pleated fabrics. (All photos and images are provided courtesy of Ann Richards.)

Sketch, detail of a dragonfly wing

Cross-section, the front part of the wing

Detail of a pleated fabric woven by Richards, with the caption:

"Warp: Linen. Weft: Crepe silk and hard silk, 

with picks of linen at intervals 

serving as 'struts' to stiffen the pleating."

If you were to look at a cross-section of the woven fabric, you would delight in seeing that the pleats are quite similar to those of the dragonfly wing. 

"Weaving Structure and Substance" is not a how-to book, although it does offer instructions for designing, materials, and finishing. Foremost, it's a discussion and analysis of how Richards and other weavers she admires create their work. The book has four parts: "Nature as Designer," "Resources for Design," "Designing for Fabric Qualities," and "Designing Through Making." There are chapters devoted to fibers and yarns, structures, the quest for textural qualities and forms, sampling, and the notion of "reflective practice." Further, there is an extensive bibliography as well as a list of online resources and suppliers.

The photos are inspirational. Below is a piece she calls "Soft Pleat Scarf," showing both the front and the back. She offers these details: "This silk and linen scarf has a striped effect created by the reversal of the pleats. The weft colour remains the same throughout so this is a 'structural' stripe that disappears when the fabric is stretched to its full width. Warp; Linen 77 lea, 72 epi and spun silk 60/2 Nm, 54 epi. Weft: Spun silk 210/2Nm, 48 ppi."

The delicacy, refinement, and simplicity of this piece represents the highest level of planning, design, and resolution. And yet the concept is easy to grasp: The shifting blocks -- seen in the thin horizontal white and black stripes -- are achieved by reversing the structure from the back to the front, requiring two blocks in the threading.

It is her depth of understanding and ability to exploit the unique potential of her materials that produce such inimitable designs. Appropriately, she quotes Darwin: "Whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being evolved."

Richards's signature pieces are necklaces, collars, and bracelets with origami folds.

Her caption: "These triple spiral bracelets are assembled 

from offset sections of pleated fabric. Warp: Silk/steel 82/2 Nm (pleats) 

and spun silk 60/2 Nm cords). Weft: Crepe silk and polyester reflective yarn."

This is Richards's second book from Crowood Press, her first being the best-selling Weaving Textiles that Shape Themselves. As with the first, her new book includes lavish photos of her work and that of Wendy Morris, Stacey Harvey-Brown, the late Junichi Arai (founder of Nuno), and many others (including me, I'm proud to say). 

Note: I think by now you can guess I'm a huge fan -- to the point that about six years ago I traveled to London to study with her at the Handweavers Studio and Gallery. Her cordiality and relaxed demeanor belied the energy, observation, and creativity she brings to her work.

Dimensional, tactile weaving is a sub-category of weaving that spans broadly, from fulled fabrics to Leno gauze to exploiting the properties of specialized yarns such as crepe, overtwist, and elastic, to name a few. I highly recommend this book to weavers who are interested in what can broadly be termed "dimensional weaving" -- and also to those who are keen to learn more about how attention to materials and structure can improve their work.

WEAVING STRUCTURE AND SUBSTANCE by Ann Richards. The Crowood Press, Ramsbury, Marlborough, Wiltshire, SN8 2HR, United Kingdom. Hardcover. 175 pages. $32.45.

Oh yes, and if you happen to be in London between now and February 2, 2022, be sure to stop by the Handweavers Studio and Gallery at 140 Seven Sisters Road. There, you'll be able to see first-hand what these techniques can achieve. 

Cloqué for Differential Shrinkage: Thanks to the French!

Years ago -- in the summer 1999 issue of  Weaver's magazine -- Holly Brackmann wrote an article on "Cloqué and Deflected Double Weave." I wove the sample above on 8 shafts based on this article, using a deflected-double-weave pattern with alternating blocks of 30/2 silk (pictured above in white) and 20/2 cotton (seen above in navy). 

The sample on the left and bottom parts of the photo is before finishing; the sample on the upper right is after finishing using the lye-shrinkage process known as cloqué. The other samples were equally beautiful and intriguing and I've been interested in weaving a cloqué project ever since.

As Brackmann writes, "This is a dangerous process and should be used with extreme caution. Fabrics are immersed in a 20-33% lye-to-water solution. Lye is extremely caustic and great care must be taken to protect eyes, hair, skin, and nails. Wear goggles, an apron, respirator, and gloves."

I followed her directions to the "T" and was pleased with the results. 

Another treadling

Using gold gimp as weft

Using Habotai silk in weft

I first heard about the technique from a weaver-friend of mine, Pam Carr, when we were in a workshop together at Convergence in Vancouver, studying differential shrinkage with Liz Williamson. We were weaving double-weave and deflected-double-weave samples with 20/2 cotton and 18/2 merino, which collapses after washing because the wool fulls and the cotton puffs and pleats as a result of this shrinkage. Pam spoke up about using cloqué as a differential-shrinkage technique and I was really intrigued. 

That was back in 2002 -- so, jump ahead 19 years and Pam and I meet up in my hometown of    Rochester, NY. She brought along a couple of her cloqué samples from a workshop she took with Joy Boutrup back in the day.

Double-weave in cotton and silk, finished with lye-shrinkage technique, 

with permission from Pam Carr

Another sample from Pam, from the same workshop

Here I am, almost two decades after hearing about this technique, planning a double-weave project on 16 shafts, threaded for Echo, and finished with cloqué.

Drawdown of the design, showing just a portion of the treadling

Cloqué is related to mercerization: Invented by John Mercer in 1844 and still used today to treat cellulose fibers, mercerization also uses caustic soda (lye), in this case to give cotton yarn greater thickness and strength and to give it increased dyeing capacity.

Years later, in 1884, plissé crepe was created in Lyons for the first time by the firm of Garnier and Depouilly. Plissé has a seersucker effect, produced by the alternating application of caustic soda and a resist chemical that prevents the caustic soda from shrinking the fabric where applied.

My fibers are 30/2 silk, dyed with osage orange and cochineal to achieve a copper color, and 18/2 unmercerized cotton, dyed with osage orange, cochineal, and indigo to achieve a dark gray color.

30/2 silk

18/2 cotton

I plan on calling the piece "Corona Burnout" because the motifs in the pattern look like microscopic images of the Coronavirus -- and heaven knows we are all burned out from the tragedies and troubles it's created.

And what happens if I don't like the samples? Well, I will move on to trying another French technique, devoré -- which literally means burnout.

More to come... Thanks for reading!

Sampling with 'Energized' Yarns, Thanks to Handwoven Magazine and Lunatic Fringe!

It all started with an email from Christina Garton at Handwoven magazine: Lunatic Fringe has a new line of "energized" yarns, called Gevolve, that she would like to feature in a story. (Energized is a broad term referring to yarns that are single-ply, elasticized, overtwisted, or otherwise likely to change shape after washing.) 

I love working with yarns like this because they cause two-dimensional handwoven cloth to pucker, pleat, or pouf in all sorts of organic, unpredictable ways.

Would I be willing to do some samples and write up an article for the Yarn Lab section of the magazine? (The yarns would be free, of course.) Would I be willing? Now what would any self-respecting, full-blooded, stash-loving weaver do?

Also, I'd like to give a shout out to Michele Belson of Lunatic Fringe, who was kind enough to send me more yarn -- MORE YARN -- when I called and said I needed it.

Photo at top: The Gevolve yarns, beginning from the left, are silk elastic in natural and black, linen crepe in Z twist and S twist, and silk crepe in S twist and Z twist. (The S-twist silk crepe is tinted pink to distinguish it from the Z twist. The color washes out after weaving. And the yellow color on the cone on the right is what I call a "yarn bra" -- a plastic mesh sleeve that keeps the yarn from raveling.)

The Yarn Lab piece will appear in the spring 2022 issue of Handwoven, so I'm not to give away any details -- but Christina gave me the OK to share with you some additional samples ahead of time. 

Here's a four-shaft pattern in double weave, using 16/2 bamboo in lime green and magenta in the warp. 

Front of sample: Looks pretty flat, right? On this side of the double-weave cloth, I'm using S-twist silk crepe as the weft. It's drawing in and the effects are seen on the other side.

The weft for this layer is 16/2 bamboo. There are "pockets" in the fabric (openings between the two layers) which crinkle up in response to the draw-in of the active silk-crepe yarn on the other side. The draw-in happens because the 16/2 bamboo is an inactive, non-collapsing yarn.

Here's a closer look at both sides:

Front: Can you see the fine white-ish weft? That's the silk crepe. This yarn is just about 1/3 the grist of the 16/2 bamboo, so it almost disappears in the weaving -- but it has a big impact on the cloth.

Back: The blue weft is 16/2 bamboo. The fabric crinkles where the two layers separate and form "pockets." While the silk crepe draws in, the fabric on the other side collapses because the other yarns are inflexible.

So what are these pockets we're talking about? It's best to start with traditional double weave, which is based on block designs. With double-weave block designs, there are pockets throughout the cloth (if you're using a traditional double-weave tieup and treadling) except for where the layers change places (front layer becomes back and vice versa).

But when you're designing double weave using parallel threadings, you wind up with an integrated double weave (as opposed to block double weave, as mentioned above, or stitched double weave, where the "stitches" uniting the two layers are evenly placed). With integrated double weave, the layers will in some places weave together and interlace. In other places they will separate and form two different layers or pockets. 

Note: This happens with four-color double weave, when you're using two colors in the warp and two colors in the weft. If you weave a four-end parallel threading, using four colors in the warp, you will not get pockets. Just integrated double weave and no chance for collapse effects.

Here are a couple more samples of what energized yarns can do with these structures.

Front of eight-shaft double-weave sample: 16/2 bamboo warps in lime green and magenta and, for this layer, a weft of  Z-twist silk crepe.

Back of eight-shaft double-weave sample: Here, the weft is 16/2 bamboo in lavender. Where the structure forms pockets, you see vertical pleating. The fabric also stretches a bit.

Above, just for fun (because you can't really see the pattern): a four-shaft design using silk-elastic as the weft on this side of the fabric.

This is the other side, which has 16/2 cotton in bright turquoise for the weft. The pockets are long and narrow, but just wide enough to create some interesting texture. The silk-elastic is particularly stretchy and active: It shrinks the cloth to about half its width after washing.

Energized yarns offer so much opportunity for design and function: Think garments that stretch over the body's curves, jackets with self-collars showing the opposite and very different side of the fabric, cloth that pleats and puckers both vertically and horizontally -- or just in certain spots, for added interest.

And also, for the sake of inspiration: How about double-weave cloth that uses fine copper wire as one of the wefts? (I apologize for the small sample, but I ran out of copper wire.) I think of this for a bendable collar or cuffs, as seen in fabrics woven by Lotte Dalgaard.

Front, showing copper wire weft

Back, showing magenta 16/2 bamboo weft

Thanks for reading!

Shaft Envy, Begone!

 

You don't need 32 shafts to weave beautiful fabric! I'm on a mission to prove this as I work on designs for a new workshop, "Echo on the Double: 4-Color Double Weave for 4 to 32 shafts." The workshop will include 5 to 6 variations in tieups and treadlings for each pattern, all in double weave, for any kind of treadle loom from 4 to 32 shafts. 

Pictured above, in the first 2 photos: Blooming Leaf design, Echo threading on 4 shafts in 4-color double weave, front and back. Second 2 photos: Falling Stars design, Echo threading on 8 shafts in 4-color double weave, front and back. The warp colors for all 4 designs are lime green and azalea.

Double weave on Echo threadings is endlessly fascinating because of the variety of patterns and color combinations that you can achieve. When you start with 2 colors in the warp (for a 2-end parallel threading) and then add 2 colors in the weft (one for the bottom layer and one for the top layer), you're working with 4 colors in all, which keeps color folks like me happy. And sometimes you'll wind up with the appearance of more than 4 colors, as in these samples below.

I used a sky blue and a beige linen as wefts, with lime green and azalea as warp colors. Look closely and you'll see a bit of the blue weft highlighting the pattern on this 8-shaft design.

The back looks quite different. Here, the sky-blue weft alters the lime-green warp, making it appear more like turquoise. It also alters the azalea warp, making it look more lilac. 

The color differences are more pronounced when you see this piece "in the flesh."

This color-shift effect is called optical mixing. (I also define it as "simultaneous contrast" because the colors of warp and weft appear different depending on which colors they lie next to). Echo as double weave allows you to exploit and play with this effect, regardless of the number of shafts on your loom.

Above, Blooming Leaf design on four shafts. The warp colors are the same as the 8-shaft design in the photos preceding this. The weft yarn for this layer is sky blue, which again softens the lime green, making it appear turquoise, and shifts the azalea to more of a lavender hue.

For the bottom layer, I used a burnt-orange weft color, which pretty much overwhelms the lime-green warp, turning it into a pale gold/bronze, while the azalea warp becomes more of a coral/orange. I like the bold color differences between the front and the back of the fabric.

There are so many other possibilities as well. For instance, I will be weaving some samples using overtwisted yarns as wefts, which cause the fabric to wrinkle and pleat in interesting ways. The key here is that the design has to include "pockets," as Marian Stubenitsky refers to them in her book, Echo and Iris. This is where the two double-weave layers are weaving separately, which doesn't always happen with double weave on Echo threadings. Often, you're weaving "integrated double weave," where the two layers are interlaced.

And then I would like very much to try weaving with copper as one of the warps and as one of the wefts, but that will have to wait until another time. First, I need to weave up a complete sample set for this workshop. Note: I've found that, as confident as I can be when I look at a design in Fiberworks, I still need to weave it up to see how it plays out. There are often surprises!

Then again, the surprises can lead to discoveries, don't you agree? And discovery is one of the reasons we love this craft.

Thanks for reading!

Falling Stars pattern on 8 shafts, Echo threading, double-weave tieup and treadling, 

with overtwisted yarn as one of the wefts.