Sandringham Craft, Sculpture and Art Fair 2013

This weekend I went to Sandringham Craft, Sculpture and Art Fair. One of the most prestigious craft fairs in the UK, drawing craftsmen, designers and artists from all over the country, this year's fair runs from Friday 9th-Sunday 11th August. It also happens to be just three miles down the road from my house, which is a bonus! 

There was so much to see and do upon arriving at the fair that it was a little overwhelming at first. From ironmongers and wood-turners, chainsaw carvers, potters, jewellery makers, to glass-blowing, oil-painting master classes, spinning and weaving classes, (as well as stranger stands such as one selling hand made goats milk beauty products that stank out the entire area with the scent of sour dairy...) the list and array was endless. Given the state of my fresh graduate overdraft at the moment I had to put a firm limit on the amount of cash I brought with me… a wise decision, otherwise I think I’d have been paying to try my hand at just about everything on offer! I like to think I made financial gains, however, by indulging in the mother of free lunches provided by the endless samples of cheeses, sausage, jams, pickles, fruit liqueurs (!), etc in the amazing food tent…. The whole show was great but I’ll just focus on some of my highlights.

One of the first things I did was attend a 30 minute glass-blowing demonstration by E+M Glass, a husband

and wife duo based on the Welsh-Cheshire border. I had seen such demonstrations on television before, but never in person. I was struck by the massive contrast between the demonstrator, Margaret's, description of the technical difficulties and precariousness of working the glass, yet how effortless and easy she made everything she was doing look. The furnace she was using heated the molten glass to 1100 degrees celsius - hotter than a volcanic eruption. In the process of making a 1920's style fluted perfume bottle, Margaret demonstrated aspects of glass-blowing such as the thumbing method, which involves blowing a small amount of air into the blow-pipe before covering the end of the pipe with the thumb, thereby allowing the trapped air inside to slowly expand due to the heat, in a more controlled manner than lots of blowing alone. Also interesting was being shown how subtle layers of colour were added, by rolling the molten clear

glass in fine granules of coloured glass, that fused and melted onto it in delicate coatings that could later be etched away and texturised in different ways for different effects. The finished bottle's fluted colour design was created with the assistance of Ed, who essentially 'stuck' drizzled strings of different coloured molten glass onto the bottle as it took shape, which were then melted into the bottle and drawn through with a knife to create pattern and movement. The demonstration also included some interesting facts, such as how glass was first discovered by merchant sailors lighting a fire on a beach, that burned so hot that it melted the sand below it. Information on further technical difficulties included the fact that each different colour of glass has different properties concerning its hardness, melting temperature, etc, and hazards regarding the control of temperature. The finished glass pieces can explode if they cool down too quickly, so Ed and Margaret place them in a computerised kiln that begins at a temperature of 480 degrees celsius, before gradually becoming cooler over the course of eight hours or so. 

My two favourite textile-y highlights of the show were a brilliant stall demonstrating traditional machine-knitting techniques, and a whole tent full of different types of traditional weaving. 

Martin Green produces beautiful and delicate knitted shawls and scarves, all made on his collection of original Victorian circular knitting machines- originally invented in order to industrially produce socks- or William Lee-type machines that were first invented in 1589. I just love this type of thing- being able to actually use the very machines and materials of the past to make something that you know is just the same as our ancestors would have possessed. The shawls on display were unbelievably soft and delicate, and I would highly recommend them as a beautiful gift for a new baby. I also found the pricing very reasonable given the beautiful quality, and I was determined to buy something from this stall! The smallest scarf size made on the William Lee machine was £9.95, which I was very tempted by, simply to own such a lovely piece of textile. I decided in the end, however, to go for something that I would actually wear myself - a scarf/snood knitted on the Victorian circular knitting machine. Despite being priced at £4.95 in a bin of 'off-cuts/end bits', it is beautifully soft and delicate, yet still very warm and cosy- certainly not a 'reject' in my eyes! 

My other favourite textile element of the show was a tent devoted to weaving techniques. I was really impressed by the possibilities of tapestry weaving, which made some really detailed images as well as modern geometric designs and imaginatively varied textures.

Perhaps the most painful part of the day was seeing an entire tapestry-weaving kit on sale for £18.50 that I was sadly unable to afford by that point! It is something I would just love to try, and I got chatting to a woman whose friend runs classes relatively near me, so watch this space... It was definitely for my own good that the stall didn't have a card reader machine, as I would have been very tempted by a peg loom as well, which produces lovely pieces of weaving like the above rugs, and that I was assured is very easy to do.

In the end I had to make do with what I could afford with my final £2.50 of the day - some 'weaving sticks' that are essentially a smaller, hand-held version of peg weaving - I will post an update when I've had a go with them! A final feature of the weaving tent were these magnificently textured Wensleydale sheep fleece rugs, and accompanying live demonstration on a traditional loom. 

I've just looked back over all I've written so far and have realised I could probably triple this amount if I carried on going into everything I liked at the show in this way... so I will just be brutal with myself and post a few pictures of my remaining absolute favourites... 

These leather moccasins were just so bright and whimsical, and the most incredibly soft leather I think I've ever felt. They were being made in live demonstrations and I'd never seen something like that in person before. They were created in any colour-way desired - and custom-made shoes for £25 these days is a massive bargain!

This In Stitches jewellery was really clever - made using knitting and crochet techniques, but done with jewellery wire instead of textile. You can see the slender metal knitting needles in the picture below, and jewellery wire with beads threaded onto it, that are then knitted into the design. Whilst the design of the jewellery isn't necessarily something I would wear myself in terms of colours and shapes etc, I thought the technique was really cool, and, as ever, would be something I'd love to try if I can get my hands on some of those special knitting needles..!

Chainsaw wood-carving is a big part of the Craft Fair, as it is home to the 'Sandringham Cup', a sought-after award for which the top 12 UK and European wood-carvers compete. My favourite wood-carved items were this absolutely enormous chair, and these oak leaves that I thought could also possibly serve as chairs. 

My remaining purchases of the day were this little hanging ornament for my Mum, who has an irrational love of decorative chickens (and the Daisy on it was a bonus), and some fat quarters of fabric from a quilting stall, as I am  currently preparing to begin my first quilting project. There were some amazing things on display on the quilting stall, but unfortunately the fabulously crabby 80+ year old woman running it wouldn't allow me to take any pictures, her reason being that I wasn't 'local enough!' She also looked me up and down and informed me wryly that 'quilting isn't for everyone', and let me know that my chosen fabrics didn't match (they weren't supposed to)... but hey-ho, all part of the quirkiness of the day and the world of crafting..! All in all, a great day and I look forward to next year. 

Book Review: 'The Embroidery Stitch Bible', Betty Barnden, (London: Quarto, 2003)

I mentioned a whole load of different stitches in my last post, and I just wanted to quickly share where I learnt quite a lot of them. This is one of the best collections of stitches I have come across, boasting over 200 different ones for fabric, pulled thread work, drawn thread work, smocking, embellishment, insertion stitches, canvas stitches... its examples are truly endless. 

A 'stitch selector' at the beginning of the book groups stitches by type (line, detached, raised, etc) and provides small images of them all to make for easy inspiration and comparison. Then upon turning to the recommended page, there are clear and understandable directions to form the stitch. I had never got on very well with stitch books before, as I tend to be more of a visual learner about such things and need to see them performed in person/ simply go through a lot of trial and error. This was not the case at all with this book, I found it brilliant and it gave me the confidence to experiment more and more. A major project to add to my ever-growing list now that Uni is over would be to try out some canvas work as soon as possible, I've never done any before but have been meaning to ever since seeing the amazing possibilities in here.  

I would recommend this book to those that already embroider and would like to widen their range of stitches/ simply see a lot of possibilities and different ideas, and also for beginners. The book's introduction and 'Working Practice' sections both provide great information concerning sewing technique, how to choose the correct fabrics, properly prepare fabric for embroidery, and prepare a piece of embroidery for mounting and display - for the beginner it is an all-in-one really, and a reliable source of information. One thing I think would make it even better for beginners, however, would be a difficulty rating for each of the stitches. There are so many that it could become a little overwhelming, and inevitably many of the most attractive tend to be the most difficult... a rating system could encourage more step-by-step, manageable experimentation! Other than than, a great book that has definitely widened my own experimentation and confidence. 

Two Contrasting Samplers: Part Two

This second sampler provides a contrast to the first in a few different ways. First of all, it is my own design, based upon a collection of African textile I went to see at the Whitworth Art Gallery in Manchester - no more rigid Victorian flowers... I have always loved African textile because of its brilliant range of techniques, and unique pattern and design. Additionally, whilst Western culture tends to distinguish hierarchically between 'art' and 'craft', textile is historically held in much higher esteem by many African cultures, free of such hierarchical divisions - a cultural attitude I am of course a big fan of! My purpose in making this piece was closer to the earliest function of samplers discussed in a previous post. It was to try out and provide examples of as many different stitches as possible - and I managed to pack a fair few in! The whole process was a lot more free than rigidly following a counted cross-stitch pattern, and I allowed myself to go with the flow and experiment as much as I could, rather than stressing about perfection or how the overall thing would turn out... 

I chose a non-counted linen fabric to embroider on as it echoed some beautiful linens I had seen in the African exhibition. Each section is based upon a close-up or aspect of the distinctive patterns and techniques that inspired me.

The orange sections were inspired by this cloth, which was in fact manufactured in Manchester between 1960-79 using an industrial wax batik technique, to then be sold to a West African market.

Stitches used: split stitch for the diamond, running stitches elsewhere, double-threaded backstitch for the border.

Stitches used: Pekingese stitch for the border, then from the outside in... twisted chain stitch, couching, stem stitch, verticle lines in centre are double knot stitch and the black motifs the brilliantly named 'tete-de-boeuf' stitch. 

The yellow, purple and green sections were inspired by the shapes, patterns and patchwork-esque effect seen in various strip-woven cottons from early twentieth-century Sierra Leone, although I changed the colours quite a lot (due partly to not having the right ones, and partly to make the sections stand out next to the predominantly dark blues of the sections next to them): 

Stitches used: two interlocking rows of threaded running stitch for the border, coral stitch for the shape outlines, filled with different variations of herringbone stitches, and satin stitch. This is probably the section I'm least happy with, I think because I'd created some awkward-to-fill shapes that didn't suit my chosen fillings too well... 

Stitches used: Cable chain stitch for the border, top left filling is basic needleweaving (didn't go too well...), below that is trellis and cross filling with some extra cross stitches, left to right lines are then fly stitch, feather stitch and chevron stitch, then a section of french knots with some sheaf stitches below.

The blue section below is based on this Nigerian, indigo-dyed 'adire' cloth, which uses various resist-techniques to achieve its effect.

This section is one of my favourites, and I did the whole thing on Christmas Day - as I mentioned in my last post, I find looking at my needlework like a visual diary, so looking at this section always reminds me of that day.

Stitches used: Scroll stitch for the outline, then from left to right: shaded brick stitch, pendant couching, different types of blanket stitches overlapping, and another section of shaded brick stitch. 

Finally, the last section is based on this amazing '8 knives' robe, belonging to a late 19th/ early 20th century Hausa Nigerian Chieftan. 

The robe had an amazing three-dimensional design to it, and I loved the heavy white embroidery. As such, I wanted to create something quite textured for this section, and it basically turned out a collection of chain stitches.

Stitches used: border is heavy chain stitch, the white swirls are a raised chain band, with everything else filled in with ordinary chain stitch. 

Phew, so there we have it... two very different samplers in terms of stitches, textures and style, made through very different processes and for different purposes... yet they both fit into the definition of a sampler at various points throughout its history. 

Two Contrasting Samplers: Part One

Continuing the sampler theme I've got going on, I thought I would provide two contrasting examples from my own work. 

The first sampler is highly traditional, and in my eyes now, a little boring... It is dated 2010 but I actually must have started it about four years earlier when I was 14- I did about half the border then it sat in a drawer for years until I rediscovered it the summer before going to University!

I say it is boring now basically because it is all in just cross-stitch (although a little backstitch features too), and I did it by following a purchased pattern. I know it was a DMC kit that cost about £30, but I can no longer find the design. 

That being said, I do remember feeling very proud of it when it was finally complete! It was the largest thing for 'display' I'd done, and it did feel like a record of achievement. My obsessive-compulsive side also loves the 'perfectionism' element of cross-stitch, as it is technically possible to produce a perfect piece if you follow the pattern exactly, and I even became obsessed with the top threads of each cross pointing the same way (it gives a much neater finish trust me..!) 

Whilst trying to find online the pattern I used for this just now, I must say I came across some beautiful designs that I probably wouldn't mind having a go at one day..! I do have a soft spot for the perfectly neat and traditional... For the last couple of years I have been much more into making my own designs however, although I have never tried to produce something so traditional looking. I think a future project could be to make my own traditional looking design, to keep things a bit more interesting than just following a purchased pattern that can look the same no matter who stitches it! 

One thing that I really love about stitching samplers of any kind is that even now, years after making it, I can still remember exactly where I was and what was happening when I stitched each little bit. I did the alphabet sitting in Whipsnade Zoo car park in the rain with my Mum for a good few hours, waiting whilst my sister enjoyed the 'Zookeeper for a day' experience we had got her for her birthday earlier that year. The purple heart motifs on either side of the alphabet were done when my Uncle came over to visit, whilst the large pink flowers sparked an argument with my boyfriend at the time who was annoyed about me focusing on the embroidery more than on watching him play Call of Duty... (yep, guess which one I still prefer..!) The whole thing is like a visual diary to me, and it is the same with every piece of embroidery I do really.

Book Review: 'Samplers of the Victoria and Albert Museum', Clare Browne and Jennifer Wearden (eds), (London: V&A Publishing, 2010)

This book was the thing that first introduced me to the broad range and history of needlework samplers, and was the source of much information in my previous post, so I must definitely credit it here! I don't have an awful lot to write about it right now because I basically just think it is great. Beautiful images fill the pages, which are very large and in brilliantly true-to-life colour - unlike many black and white, smaller reproductions I have since seen in other books. The size of the pages and images also allows you to see every detail which is invaluable for close study, either for academic purposes or to gain design ideas for your own work, in terms of both pattern and colour, and stitches used. Great close-ups of details from the samplers alongside their full-size images, and a chapter on stitches and techniques at the end of the book, enhance its practical function. A chapter at the beginning also provides valuable historical and contextual information (although if it is just the information rather than images you are after, most of this chapter is actually reproduced on the V&A website for free, just search 'samplers').

The book covers the range of samplers held by the Victoria and Albert Museum, spanning from the 14th to late 19th century, and internationally across not only a range of British examples, but also those from Europe, Africa, the Americas and the Middle East. Even for someone thus far totally uninterested in samplers I would recommend this book simply as something beautiful to look at, the quality and size of the images makes them unignorably fascinating. My only drawback would be that at £19.99 it is quite expensive, fortunately I received mine as a Christmas gift... but I have since bought one as a gift for someone else! Certainly a must for anyone interested in textile, pattern, design, embroidery, art history... 

The Evolution of Needlework Samplers

There is a sizeable back-log of things I had been wanting to write about during my last few months at University, so much so that it is hard to know where to start. Whilst there are probably more exciting things to the general population, I wouldn’t be staying true to myself if I didn’t go for something shamelessly geeky to start with… sorry! Bear with me… After researching them endlessly for my undergraduate dissertation, I have become a total nerd on the subject of embroidered samplers and have a number of posts in mind concerning them. First off, however, I will attempt to give a short history of samplers, as a backdrop to future posts.

For me, and I think most people, the word sampler was associated only with a traditional, harmless past-time, the cross-stitched alphabet, numbers and motifs seen framed on the walls of many a grandparent’s house…  In fact, the form has a long and changing history spanning about 500 years, from which some significant conclusions can be drawn about the role of needlework in constructing societal and gender norms.

The earliest surviving samplers held by the Victoria and Albert museum date back to the 14^th-15^th centuries (click images to enlarge):

The term ‘sampler’ itself derives from the Old French word ‘essamplaire’, meaning something to be copied or imitated: an example. The earliest samplers reflect this meaning closely: before the invention of the printing press and proliferation of printed pattern books, they served as personal references and reminders of patterns for skilled embroiderers. This function was purely utilitarian, a fabric dictionary to enable the production of other embroidered pieces.

Through much of the 16th century the sampler retained its functional role as a necessary record of stitches and patterns. Towards the 17^th century, however, the sampler was beginning to change in its purpose. With printed paper patterns now much more readily available, the sampler instead acted as a visible record of achievement and increasing needlework skills in trying out copied patterns and effects: a space for younger needleworkers to learn and practise upon, rather than a personal reference-book for already accomplished embroiderers. Samplers from this era are largely divided into two groups: spot samplers, where motifs and patterns are randomly practised over a large area of fabric…

… and band samplers, where row upon row of patterns fill a very long and narrow piece of fabric that can be rolled up, put away and brought out again when needed for future reference:

A beginning trend for young girls to initial, and eventually sign and date samplers from this period onwards, and striking similarity between many different samplers, suggest the sampler’s increasing role in education, taught and learned from widely disseminated pattern books and signed as a record of achievement in needlework education.

The late 17^th through to the 18^th century saw the introduction of moral and religious verses into samplers. In the eighteenth century, the sampler’s shape and purpose evolved much further, into a square piece to be displayed rather than a source of personal practise and reference. Rather than the random styles of spot and band samplers, 18^th century samplers contained more unified designs, framed by borders and producing larger scale pictures often accompanied by moral text. With this change in design focus, however, came a dramatic diminishing in the number of stitches used in the overall sampler. Whilst early samplers employed an endless variety of different stitches, by the eighteenth century this was generally much reduced:

The notion of sampler as ‘example’ therefore seems to have evolved not to concern the skills, stitches and patterns for personal use that the sampler began as, but instead, in standing as framed display pieces containing moral text, aesthetically-conscious pictorial design, and the name and age of their maker, to stand as an ‘example’ and symbol of the young embroiderer herself.

Finally, the role of the sampler takes a dramatic turn in the 19^th century. Through its aforementioned evolution to become an outward display of its young female maker’s education in stitchery and apparent morality, during the 19^th century needlework sampler-making became inextricable from and highly symbolic of the Victorian feminine ideal, that praised silence, obedience and piety. The physical act of embroidery itself, sitting in silent concentration with downcast eyes and lowered head, was designed to instil these feminine virtues. The centrality of needlework in all female education across this period further highlights its role in instilling normative feminine virtues. 

Whilst for the first time girls of all social classes were taught reading, writing and basic numeric skills, all of this learning was done through the traditionally ‘feminine’ form of needlework sampler making. This form of schooling was not designed to engender independent thought and creation. Instead, and in keeping with passive, silent and obedient feminine virtue, it taught girls only to read, memorize and recite the ideas of others, mediated through the sampler form designed to enforce feminine physical behaviour and qualities in its practice. The synthesis between female education, embroidery and indoctrination in traditional femininity is brilliantly exemplified by an 1827 sampler in which the alphabet, multiplication table and a poem on virtue all appear stitched alongside one another: 

The sampler form then, and the sense of ‘essamplaire’, evolves from the notion of a personal reference and example for stitched design, to eventually become an example of idealised Victorian feminine behaviour, and a framed outward ‘example’ and representation of a young girl’s feminine education, skills and moral values. By the early twentieth-century, sampler-making was mostly eradicated from girl’s education, leaving it to become the freer past-time it is considered today. Knowledge of the changing role of the sampler however highlights the ways in which material practices are both shaped by, and in turn shape, changes in the technology, moral and social ideals of society.