Do you see a goose looking at you? This goose-eye twill is aptly named, as seen in the diamond motif that is woven in the fabric. You can see the motif best where the warp and weft are in contrasting colors. But even where there is little or no contrast, the goose-eye is still there. It’s in the structure.
Beginning of the third towel on this warp. The hem is woven in a smaller goose-eye pattern in a stone color. A narrow gold stripe within a wide brown stripe begins an overall checked design for this towel.
I find it fascinating that one simple repeated geometric shape can set the tone for the whole cloth. It reminds me of what the great classical composers could do with a single musical motif. Think of what Beethoven did with just four notes in his famous Fifth Symphony! Bah-bah-bah Baahm... Joy is that kind of repeated motif that sets the tone for our days.
Joy is the urge to sing on the inside. And it shows up in your countenance on the outside. God loves to see a glad, singing heart. He knows that joy is good for your soul. Sometimes the motif is less visible because of the threads that are crossing your life at the moment. But abiding joy in your structure keeps the melody line alive.
Do you have a melody? Being a musician at heart, it’s fun to think of my weaving loom as a musical instrument. This is an instrument that produces fabric instead of harmonies. Throwing a shuttle takes practiced precision, as does gliding my bow across the strings of my ‘cello. When I step on treadles to change sheds on the loom, I imagine myself on the bench of a majestic pipe organ, playing the low notes with my feet. Every pass of the shuttle brings the formation of a melody in color and pattern. Rosepath is the prettiest melody of all. And rhythm, of course, is felt and heard as I play the loom instrument.
Rosepath rag rugs on the loom. Doing my favorite thing again.
I make textural melodies on my weaving loom. I am certain my maker takes note of the music I make here. Whatever you do with a thankful heart becomes a song. And that song is your gift to your maker. When you turn what you do into an instrument of praise you experience the smile of God.
I have a melody, and I have a Melody, whose birthday is today, and whose wedding is eleven days away. Maybe she needs a new rug as a housewarming gift…
A boat shuttle is clearly the best way to send weft thread across a 45-inch (114 cm) warp. The pleasing rhythm of weaving is possible because of this very simple tool. Even so, the shuttle is merely a vehicle for the thread. Music is another kind of vehicle.
Plain weave, with evenly-spaced lace weave squares. The alpaca/Tencel yarn is soft, yet very easy to work with.
I doubt there is a more effective vehicle for carrying a message than music. Surely you have noticed how ideas spread across the culture via songs, and how easily we retain words that are attached to a tune. Boat shuttles were invented because handweavers needed a way to send weft thread across a distance. Maybe music was invented because we needed a way to send messages that matter.
I would like to send a message across time and space. I’ll wrap the words around a quill, and insert it in the boat shuttle. And then, momentarily holding the shuttle just so, I’ll release the song with a flick of my wrist, sending the message to the one who means the most to me. A joyful pronouncement of my creator’s goodness and love, set to musical expression. Brings a smile from heaven, don’t you think? And as that shuttle continues, in the rhythm of the weaving, the thread of the simple song ends up leaving a pattern in the cloth.
My recent visit to Vävstuga Weaving School will remain high on my list of fond memories. Between New England autumn splendor, ten-shaft satin damask, and a side trip to see Becky Ashenden’s collection of drawlooms, there were enough “firsts” to keep me ooh-ing and ahh-ing repeatedly. With her smålandsväv coverlet, complete with sheepskin, draped behind me on her living room sofa, Becky made me feel at home as we talked about weaving. Click HERE to read the first part of our conversation.
Stunning smålandsväv coverlet, a traditional Swedish weave, with sheepskin hand-stitched to the piece. Would be perfect for a sleigh ride in the snow!Close up. Oh, so soft!
And now, enjoy this second part of my conversation with Becky…
You studied handweaving in Sweden. How did you face the challenge of teaching what you learned to American students?
I’ve learned a huge amount from my students. When I first started to teach, I knew how to explain everything in Swedish, but I couldn’t do it in English. Someone would say, “Oh, you mean such and such…,” saying it in a different way. I’d say, “Oh yeah, that was a good way to say it (chuckle).” And I’d think to myself, “Hmm, say it that way next time.”
What is your approach for handling the various learning styles and backgrounds of students in your classes?
This is something that’s been intriguing to me since I was young. I started folk dancing when I was seven; and, when I was about twelve, I taught my first dance. I remember thinking, even back then, “Well, that brain is thinking about it one way, and this brain is thinking about it another way.” You can see around the room, “That person’s not getting it, but this person is getting it. Maybe if I say it another way, that person will get it.” The psychology of it is fascinating to me. It’s the same with teaching weaving.
I try to teach to what the person wants to learn. Does this person want a lot of knowledge, or, want hand skills, or, just want to have fun? Another person is uptight about being slow, so I want to make them relax (laughter) and enjoy it. Because–What are you doing it for? My biggest goal is to make this activity something that people can go home and enjoy. That’s why you’re doing it. I enjoy analyzing, “What’s going to make this person enjoy it?” I love working with people, and trying to understand where different people are coming from.
With the small class size of only eight students, you can see what students’ needs are.
Yes. And what their goals are. Someone who’s ambitious and has a goal of doing a lot of production is going to be motivated to do what they need to do. I let people have their own motivation. I used to cram more information down (chuckle), because I had an agenda of what I thought they ought to learn. Now, I try to understand–What do they want to learn?
The other thing that you do, Becky, is push us beyond our current ability.
If I see something that can be better, that’s my job to point it out. If the person wants to take me up on it, that’s their prerogative. If I see that they do, then I know I can keep giving out more.
Are there any new adventures on your horizon?
Oh… I hope so. Always (laughter)!
I am thinking about expanding the program, especially with the drawloom facility. Hopefully, to include linen and flax processing.
Those drawlooms are set up for my Drawloom Basics class. I don’t want to always do little basic warps. Bit by bit, I want to put big, lovely warps on all of them. People might do just a little of a big, lovely warp; but, they still learn about the different looms. …And then come back and weave even bigger, amazing things.
I’d love to translate more books, if I can figure out how to fit that into my life…
More trips to Sweden, certainly, to study different techniques. It’s been a while since I’ve been.
Those are ambitious plans, considering there’s only one of you.
I’d like to expand, also, in bringing in more young people. I want to make a concerted effort to pass the torch. …If I can have people trained to fill in the gap of being only one of me (laughter), instead of four of me (laughter).
Thank you again, Becky. It’s been a pleasure to get to know you even more.
Well, thank you. It’s been a real pleasure for me, too.
Side note: Did you know Becky is an accomplished accordionist? It was a treat to hear her play some of the folk music she knows so well.
Becky is just as comfortable with her accordion as she is with her looms. Music and weaving looms. What more could a girl like me ask for?
Whenever I cut new cloth off the loom I am reminded of how much I have. I feel extremely fortunate to get to do what I enjoy–weave! At the same time, I know there are many people in great need. Is it possible to establish a rhythm of giving? I want to be aware of the needs around me, caring enough to make a difference.
Linen fabric, just off the loom. I was hoping this fabric would be iridescent; and it is!
What if…, every time I come to the end of a warp, I intentionally help someone in a tangible way? Since I weave one warp after another, this could be a routine reminder to put kindness into action.
I did that today. This linen warp came to an end, and I took my cello to play for Sam, a precious elderly gentleman who doesn’t have much to look forward to in the here-and-now. I wish I could tell you I planned the visit to coincide with the weaving, but I didn’t. The warp happened to be at the end, and I had already made plans for the cello visit. But it did make me think…
What ideas do you have for establishing a rhythm of providing for others in need?
