Nilda Callañaupa from CTTC raises cochineal-dyed yarn after a successful dye day in Acopia, Peru.

During my last visit to Peru, we stopped at the weaving village of Acopia. It was dye day. And not just any dye day, but red dye day. The shades of red emerging from those pots couldn’t be more vivid. The weavers dye their own handspun wool and alpaca yarns for weaving their own cloth. So during the day, they were checking their colors, adding a few skeins to different baths, ensuring they would have a wide range of raspberry to scarlet reds, to fuchsia and purples.

Some History

Originating in the Americas, cochineal, along with gold and silver, was considered by the Spanish as one of the great treasures of the New World. During the 16^th – 18^th centuries, cochineal was shipped by the tons back to Spain and from there, to many regions in the world. While the vast majority was used for textiles, it also was used by artists in paint glaze and pigments to make strong blacks. Today, it is still one of Peru’s largest exports.

Miracle of the Slave by Tintoretto (c. 1548). The son of a master dyer, Tintoretto used Carmine Red Lake pigment, derived from the cochineal insect, to achieve dramatic color effects (Wikipedia: Pigment)

Cochineal is certainly not the only natural dye that produces red, or shades thereof. However, it is the one mostly used in the Americas. Plant roots such as alkanet and madder, the dried fruit myrobalan, or other insects related to cochineal such as kermes and lac, are all used for natural red in other parts of the world.

The Insect and the Nopal Cactus

Cochineal insects have a flat, soft body, and oval-shaped scale.  The females cluster on cactus paddles, feeding on its juices. After mating, they give birth to nymphs that secrete a waxy white substance over their bodies for protection. It’s this substance which makes the insect appear white or grey on the outside and its inside a dark purple.

Cochineals can be farmed traditionally by planting infected cactus pads or infecting existing cacti with cochineals and harvesting the insects by hand.  Or farmed by a controlled method, small baskets, called Zapotec nests, are placed on host cacti. The baskets contain clean, fertile females that leave the nests and settle on the cactus for mating.

To produce dye from cochineal, the insects are collected when they are about 90 days old. They are individually knocked, brushed, or picked from the cacti, and killed by some form of heat. It takes about 100,000 insects to make one kilo of cochineal dye.

Dyeing with Cochineal

A little of this bug goes a long way–100 grams will dye about two pounds of fiber to a deep shade and will set you back about $25-30.  It takes readily on wool and silk, but will also dye cotton using more dyestuff. There are many excellent cochineal dye recipes available (see Interweave’s Colorways) and you can find cochineal bugs from many sources.

When dyeing with cochineal, the whole insect gets ground into a fine powder. This powder is then dissolved in a large pot of simmering water. The pre-mordanted fiber goes into the dyebath, and depending on what mordant was used, fuchsia, bright red, and purples start to emerge. An ammonia afterbath pushes the color toward purple, and tartaric acid, such as lime juice, towards orange-red.

Weavings Using Cochineal

Start the hunt for cochineal red used by artisans in the Americas in the ClothRoads shop: In Tenejapa, Chiapas, they weave brocade fabric--the wool is dyed. In the Chinchero village of Peru, the alpaca and wool warp is spun and dyed in this banded tote. And in Guatemala, the organic cotton warp is dyed creating this bold striped tablecloth.

So the next time you toss back that Campari or add the luscious shade of red to your lips, thank this little female insect.

 Special Resources and Thanks

A number of artisans and educators have contributed one way or another to this blog: Demetrio Bautista Lazo, a rug weaver from Oaxaca, Mexico, who designs and weaves naturally-dyed rugs (you can read more about him in Interweave’s Colorways 2011 e-magazine); José Jiménez, ikat weaver from Ecuador, the Peruvian weavers of the Center for Traditional Textiles of Cusco; Elena Phipps, curator and author of Cochineal Red; The Art History of a Color (you can learn more by watching her on YouTube here); Olga Reiche, natural dye author, teacher, and weaver from Guatemala, and Michele Wipplinger of earthues, natural dye author, teacher and supplier of dyestuffs. Thanks to photographers Robert Medlock and Joe Coca for supplying images.

The post Cochineal: The Royal Red of Natural Dyes appeared first on ClothRoads.

Ms. Sisane of the Lao Textile Museum stirs the fermenting indigo dye bath.

The Lao Textile Museum

It was late April, and the rainy season was just ending. The Center’s grounds were verdant, providing a rich contrast to the deep carved teak of buildings, a throwback to the French Colonial era. The Traditional Cultural Education Center was established as a home for preserving and teaching languages, music, traditional customs, and other arts, especially those related to weaving.  The Lao Textile Museum sits here too–one building, a raised village house, and the other housing the museum’s artifacts of Lao baskets, ceramics, clothing, photos, woven silk textiles and tools.

Weaving Studio

Upon entering the weaving studio, I encountered my first Lao loom. This was no small piece of equipment–the warping and tensioning system was different from my simple jack loom, and the mechanics of raising the pattern threads for weaving baffled me. The weaver was working on a traditional supplementary weft silk fabric using an indigo warp. And, on the other loom, I spotted this simple, striped beauty of indigo cotton cloth being woven–it was such a contrast to the intricate silk weaving that it intrigued me. What was this cloth used for, and why was it this width and length? Answer–curtains, coverings for household items, wrappings.

Lao Weaving

Ms. Sisane served us our morning tea in a room filled with traditional-style Lao weaving before heading to the upstairs shop. She posed, wearing the beauty of Lao silk against the backdrop of an indigo-dyed, supplementary weft silk piece, while I purchased the simple striped indigo for ClothRoads. This 60” length of organic cotton fabric holds potential for napkins, a tablecloth, pillows, bags, or a simple summer top or skirt. It just needs you to dream along with it with a needle and thread in hand.

More Indigo

If you want to try your hand at indigo this simple earthues kit makes it effortless, without the smell. To deepen the indigo experience, watch the documentary by Mary Lance, Blue Alchemy, Stories of Indigo.

The post From the Indigo Vat to Woven Cloth in Laos appeared first on ClothRoads.

Hand-woven silk Traveling Block scarf, designed by Miss Noot of the Living Crafts Centre, Laos.

The Silk Fiber 

In Laos, there are two types of wild silkworms, the Bombyx mori and eri. The Bombyx mori originated in China and eats mulberry leaves. It produces a fine and smooth silk filament. This singles silk is used as the warp thread for this scarf. The other silk, eri, has been domesticated in southeast Asia for centuries. It eats a variety of plant leaves such as castor oil, cassava, and papaya, but not mulberry. The silk from this cocoon cannot be reeled; it is handspun into a coarser, rougher silk that is thick and irregular and of various weights. The lightweight eri silk is used for the weft in the striped sections; the heavier spun is used in the woven block areas.

Wild silk in various forms: Reeled Bombyx mori on far right to handspun eri silk in different weights to the left.

 The Natural Dyes

The Living Crafts Center has a dye and weaving studio; classes are also offered for visitors. Solid documentation is given regarding the natural dyestuffs grown and harvested locally and used in their weaving.

Natural dyes for silk are used to produce the range of colors used for weaving at the Living Crafts Centre.

For this scarf, the silk yarn was mordanted in alum. The pink-colored silk was dyed using the heart wood and roots of the Sappan tree; the wood/roots boiled to release the color. Limestone was added to darken the color. The pinkish-grey color is from the fresh leaves of teak. The leaves are boiled; fresh leaves make the soft pink grey.

The Weave

A commonality of Laos weaving, whether weaving a traditional pattern or one more contemporary, is the fineness of the warp sett; this one is about 50 ends per inch. (If you’re a non-weaver, this means there are about 50 silk threads in any given inch that run vertically. The weft is the crosswise or horizontal threads.) In this scarf, the lightweight eri weft is plain weave, going over and under every one of the warp threads across the row, forming a 1 3/4” solid stripe. This solid stripe is offset by a 1 5/8” “striping” of alternating woven color blocks and unwoven sections of warp threads.

This is a detail of the silk scarf. Note the fineness of the Bombyx mori silk warp and the two weights of eri silk in the weft.

You might think the color blocks are tapestry as you barely see the warp, but look closely, the warp does show, just not much. These blocks are formed by discontinuous weaving one block at a time, each one 1 5/8” in width, and changing the weft color for each block. In between each woven one, an open block is formed strictly by not weaving any weft in that section. Miss Noot chose colors that move diagonally across the scarf, making a traveling color field when worn. Simply brilliant.

The Scarf 

To me, the intriguing aspects are the play of solid blocks against the open weave sections, plus the playing of colors that can be achieved whether in weaving a pink-reddish version or the more neutral black, silver and white. By providing this level of detail, it is my desire to both educate as well as offer inspiration to weavers. I’d be delighted to hear from you if this scarf tickled your fancy too. Or if you want Miss Noot’s brilliance to bedeck you, they’re available in the ClothRoads store.

An alternative colorway in the Traveling Block silk scarf.

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The post ClothRoads Scarf of the Month: Traveling Blocks in Weaving appeared first on ClothRoads.

The women embroiders stitch together at the Kala Raksha center.

Kala Raksha

Kala Raksha means “Art Preservation.” Started as a grassroots effort, it was officially established in 1993, as a registered society and trust by co-founders Judy Frater and Prakash Bhanani. It aims to preserve the traditional arts of the region by making them culturally and economically viable.

Raniben explains the stitched story of her quilt.

All activities are artisan driven and Kala Raksha encourages community members to work together toward the goal of self-sufficiency. Generating income through their traditions, community members can realize their strengths and maintain their identity as they develop.

Comprised of artisans, community members, and experts in the fields of art, design, rural management, and museums, Kala Raksha today works with nearly 1,000 embroidery artisans of seven ethnic communities. Artisans produce some of the most exquisitely hand embroidered and patchworked garments, accessories, and home furnishings made in Kutch.

Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya

In November 2005, Kala Raksha launched Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya (KRV), an institution of design for working with traditional artisans of Kutch, the first such institution in India. Evolved from years of design development based at the Kala Raksha Museum, KRV is an educational institution open to working artisans of Kutch, conservatively estimated at 50,000. It aims to provide knowledge and skills directly relevant to the artisan’s traditional art to enable market appropriate innovation, while honoring and strengthening the tradition.

The KR Museum’s collection is used as a primary resource for artisans during their design training.

As working artisans can rarely leave their homes and work for long periods, the course is a series of modular classes conducted in a local residential setting. Situated on eight acres in a rural setting near the Gulf of Kutch, the campus houses craft studios and a computer-aided-design center. The curriculum is continually revised to address the needs of both artisans and market.

Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya artisans work on developing their theme for designs.

The coursework includes six intensive two-week sessions on color, basic design, market orientation, concept and communication, finishing and collection development, and presentation. Together these form a comprehensive process for developing tradition-based products suitable for contemporary markets. Between sessions, the students implement classroom learning in their respective crafts.

KRV artisans learn how to mix colors in paint for their design boards.

The seventh class just finished at the end of 2012, and the emerging Artisan Designers are blossoming. This year’s graduates presented collections of contemporary styled traditions, ranging from the bold to the beautiful.

Artisan Design

The brand “Artisan Design” was launched in 2010.  In many crafts, an artisan executes a product designed by someone other than herself. An Artisan-Designed product is created entirely by the artisan. For Kala Raksha, the designing process is as important as the product and this trademark certifies that a product is an artisan’s own creative innovation.

The leading Artisan Designers are graduates of Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya. Each graduate has invested a year of hard work and incredible creativity, to embark on a unique artistic path. One clear benefit of KRV is the diversification of crafts. Each graduate has found his or her own voice. Copying has never been a concept at KRV.

Deviben Samat Rabar models on of her designs to fellow students. She won the award for Most Promising Artisan of the year. in 2006. She has served as a mentor at Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya.

Fostering Engagement and Exchange

Kala Raksha continues to focus on building links through which KRV graduates can develop their capacity as designers and find new and better markets.  In December 2012, Kala Raksha and the Vidhyalaya hosted the seventh workshop with faculty from Kansas State University.  These artisan workshops foster exchange and appreciation focused on building long term global relationships. In 2011, Kala Raksha instituted workshops for anyone interested in learning the textile arts of Kutch. These workshops foster exchange, and a hands-on appreciation of the regional artisan talent.   You too, can learn these traditional handcrafts.

How could you not fall in love with Meghiben, the twinkle in her eyes and embracing smile?

 Got the Traveling Itch?

Mark your traveling calendar to celebrate Kala Raksha’s 20th anniversary on August 26. Or the next Kala Raksha Vidhyalaya annual Convocation Mela, November 23-24 taking place in Kutch, India. You can also meet Kala Raksha at this year’s Santa Fe Folk Art Market July 12-14. OR if armchair traveling is preferred, see some of their artistry here in the ClothRoads store.

To learn more, visit www.kala-raksha.org, their online museum at www.kala-raksha-museum.org, or KRV at http://www.kala-raksha-vidhyalaya.org.

I hope you will share some of your Kala Raksha stories and congratulate them on 20 amazing years in the comment section below.

Special thanks to Judy Frater for providing information and many of the images for this blog. But really, far beyond that– a deep gratitude for all she has manifested with the Kala Raksha community. 

The post Kala Raksha, 20 Years Preserving Traditional Art and Empowering Artisans appeared first on ClothRoads.

The young people in the weaving community of Sallac, Peru dance during the festival.

The Skirts (Polleras)

My companions and I arrived right before announcements commenced; I sat on the grassy field behind the weavers so I could gaze unobtrusively at the women’s skirts (polleras). The pollera is not only a basic article of clothing but it’s where a woman shows off her cleverness and handwork ability. All skirts are very full and gathered, often worn one on top of another. The edges are embellished with woven, multicolored bands (golones).

Note the difference in the skirts–the amount of colorful embroidery and the skirts’ twill tapestry-weave edging (golones).

But back to the party. Announcements and singing started mid-day. Then the dancing competitions began and the young women began twirling their skirts. Here’s a video clip (length 2:31) of three different competitions representing aspects of their lives, from weaving to planting and harvesting. Look how the skirts are highly embroidered, how the border designs of the golones vary from one to the next. And best of all, see the layering of the skirts as the young women twirl to the music?

In Sallac, the woman’s costume has become very elaborate over the last years. The young women have very colorful patterned skirts where the older ones are mostly black with a patterned border.

The elders tend to have simpler skirts borders while the younger women’s have become more colorful.

The Woven Band

The word golones refers to its making: golon, a twill tapestry weave. The band is woven on a narrow belt loom, the brightly-colored geometric patterns created by using multiple heddles for raising the warp threads in twill weave. The weft packs down over the warp as the geometric patterns are made in tapestry style, thus making a very sturdy and durable band.

Detail of the Chinchero golones, a twill tapestry-weave band.

Thus, weaving the golones is a very time-consuming process, with an average skirt using 6 yards for the bottom edge. So when the pollera gets old, the bands are removed and applied to a new skirt.

The bottom edging of this Chinchero skirt shows both embroidery and the twill tapestry-weave band (golones) at the border.

In the ClothRoads store, we have a few of the bands that have been removed and a few that are ready for a new skirt. So if you need a new trim to border pillows or bags, or want to embellish an edge for twirling your skirt, our door is always open.

The post Weaving On the Edge in the Peruvian Highlands appeared first on ClothRoads.

Simply stated, bandhani is one form of tie-dyed cloth. It’s a technique of creating patterns on cloth by resisting parts of the fabric by tying small, continuous knots in it before it’s dyed. The areas where the knots are tied don’t allow the dye to penetrate, leaving these areas the color of the original cloth.

Detail of the shell pattern made with very small bandhani dots.

The Artisan

During our visit to Bhuj in the Gujarat region of India last December, we reconnected with the artisan Abduljabbar Mahmadhushen Khatri aka  Jabbar Khatri. Having met Jabbar at the Santa Fe Folk Art Market previously, it was a unique pleasure to be in his studio and see the bandhani process from beginning to end.

Jabbar Khatri stirring the bandhani scarf in the dye bath.

The bandhani from the Kachchh District in Bhuj is traditionally practiced by the Khatri community. (You met other Khatris, the Ajrakh block printers, a few weeks ago in this blog). Jabbar and his brothers stem from the traditional tie-dyers, but their family had stopped the practice a few generations before. Soon after the catastrophic Bhuj earthquake in 2001, in which many lives were lost, they decided to pursue their heritage. Mentored by their uncles and cousins, who were still in the trade, they reinvigorated the family business.

The Khatri community is renowned for tying extremely fine dot patterns in a sophisticated composition style. Jabbar and his brothers have continued in this vein; their mother and sister, along with over two hundred women from the community, tying the fine patterns that merge traditional and contemporary designs. They are also incorporating ideas of sustainability and ecological awareness in their enterprise, especially in their use of natural dyes such as indigo, logwood, madder, rhubarb, and weldJabbar and his brothers stem from the traditional tie-dyers, but their family had stopped the practice a few generations before. Soon after the catastrophic Bhuj earthquake in 2001, in which many lives were lost, they decided to pursue their heritage. Mentored by their uncles and cousins, who were still in the trade, they reinvigorated the family business.. Recently, Jabbar has been experimenting with the extract dyes of Earthues and is mixing these extracts to obtain his own colorings.

The Making of Bandhani

The process starts by drawing a design on stencil paper that is then punched with needles. A fugitive dye is then brushed through the paper, imprinting the design directly on the fabric.

A fugitive dye is brushed through the stencil paper.

The pattern is stencilled onto cloth.

The base fabric can be fine silk or cotton, or even wool. A fine silk cloth can be folded in two for a symmetrical design or to make two scarves, thereby saving time.

The tying of the pattern with thread to form the resist is next. This step is generally women’s work as it’s portable; men do the dyeing. Most widely used is the simple dot (bindi) which is formed by pinching a small area of cloth and tightly wrapping cotton in one continuous connect-the-dots around the raised parts. Using a metal tube through which the cotton thread is fed facilitates the winding around the dots.

Once the wrapping is complete, the fabric goes into the dye bath, the dye squished into the fabric to make sure it penetrates. The binding resists the dye from reaching that part of the cloth so when the thread is removed, the undyed circle is revealed.

The “tie-dyed” fabric after it has been dyed, still tied and drying on line.

Once the scarf is dyed and dried, the knotting is removed simply by pulling on both ends of the cloth. Watch this whole process in this video (length 2:16).

The Scarf

This Shell Scarf was made following all the traditional steps. The base fabric is fine silk; the natural dyes used are a combination of weld and logwood. (And for all who know me, this color of green ranks high on my clothing-coordination list.) The ends are finished with a fine-rolled hem.

This silk scarf is made using the bandhani (tie-dye) resist pattern and then naturally-dyed.

The shell pattern with the top part stretched out.

You can see the fineness of the tying, how close each small bindi pattern is next to each other. I’ve stretched the scarf so you can see the pattern and how the shell or fan shape scrunches the fabric while still keeping it prominent.

While this is the only one of this design currently in the ClothRoads store, there are others just as lovely. I’m taken with the naturally-dyed, indigo cotton ones too.

The post ClothRoads Scarf of the Month: Bandhani, an Indian Tie Dye Resist appeared first on ClothRoads.

The understated exterior of the Khatri building hiding the Ajrakh treasures inside.

Abdul Jabbar Mohammed Khatri greeted us, guiding us through the maze of printing tables, as we carefully avoided bumping into trays filled with pigments and carved wooden blocks.  His son walked us through the elaborate, traditional process of Ajrakh block printing and dyeing using all natural colors. (The word Ajrakh has multiple meanings but my favorite is the Arabic translation: “Blue is like a moonless sky at midnight with lots of stars sparkling in the darkness.”

The Khatri men, ninth-generation of Ajrakh block printers.

Ajrakh Printing and Dyeing

The preparation of Ajrakh is a demanding technical art requiring perfection; the block carving itself a highly specialized craft (video).  In its most traditional process, the making of this cloth can include as many as thirteen steps: the preparing of the cloth include the tearing of the fabric in pre-determined sizes, removing the starch from the cotton, and mordanting the cloth with myrobalam (preparing the fabric to absorb the dye color using the dried fruit of an Indian tree). The next steps include resist printing using the wooden blocks and forming the pattern outline.

Known as rekh printing, the wooden block is dipped in the resist and stamped on the fabric outlining the design.

Printing the black areas involves a tannin/iron complex. This is all done before any dyeing with indigo, madder or other natural dyes. The most identifiable of Ajrakh has the colors of red, blue, black and white.

The most identifiable of Ajrakh fabric has the colors of red, blue, black and white. Traditional patterns are complex and symmetrical. Floral patterns are worn by women.

Patterns

The traditional patterns are complex–geometrical and symmetrical to reflect Islamic culture. The finest of these fabrics are resisted, printed, and dyed on both sides of the cloth, with such skill that each side is identical. The border design may remain similar from one cloth to the next but the field design, being the most visible, would generally be chosen by the customer. The Khatri family continues to print the traditional cloth but they also make contemporary ones using traditional processes.

The many-pattern motifs border a larger symmetrical pattern field of this Ajrakh block printed shawl.

ClothRoads Tip Who needs a shopping bag when one Ajrakh cloth can be used? Wrap your purchases in each corner, tie the corners, and fling the wrap over your shoulder–that’s a traditional use. But it sure is handy to wear as a wrap and use it for a dual purpose too. We have two Ajrakh cloths available in the ClothRoads Shop. One using blue black the other green black.

The post Discovering Handmade Textile Treasures: Ajrakh Block Printing and Natural Dyeing appeared first on ClothRoads.

Kheri Gate is the entrance to the Anokhi Museum of Hand Printing. Ganesha, the Hindu god of success welcomes all.

But we were here at the Kheri Gate for another reason, to visit the Anokhi Museum of Hand Printing–the premier museum dedicated to the preservation and exhibition of the country’s top hand-blocked textiles, both contemporary and traditional. Its home is a restored Rajastani Haveli; each staircase led to demonstration or exhibition rooms. The block-printing tables were on the top floor, a wondrous room with sun-filled light.

Wooden Block Making  

This master block printer carves the wood with an Anokhi design.

One of the deepest pleasures I know is watching a craftsman at work—the decades of learning to master hands and tools working in harmony. One false chip with the tool in the well-seasoned wood can create an inaccuracy of pattern. An intricate block can take many days to complete. Watch this master work and learn about the block-carving stages in this video.

Printing Stages

The number of printing blocks used for a design depends on the number of colors in the artwork and its complexity. Blocks are classified into three types: the background block (gudh), the outline block (rekh), and the filling block (datta). The average design will have one background block which is printed first and acts as a guide for the next block, the rekh, delineating the outline of the design. And finally, a minimum of three to four dattas are used, one at a time, filling in each of the colors. Contemporary prints can use up to twelve blocks.

Block printing the background (gudh) on cloth. This is the first of many blocks used for this design.

We were told that this man has been block printing almost his whole life. In this video, you can see the speed at which he works, the assuredness as he stamps each motif. The exact pressure of his hand as it hits the top of the block, imparting the dye into the cloth.

Gold and Silver Dusting

Gold and silver as a decorative finish was a common feature in traditional Indian painted and printed fabrics. The older technique was fairly simple, with the pattern being painted or printed with a gum paste (roghan) to which gold or silver leaf (varak) was applied. Today, this printing is done using a brass stencil, a plunger loaded with a measured amount of paste which is pushed through the stencil onto the fabric. Metallic powder is then dusted over this sticky pattern; the dust adhering to the fabric wherever paste is present.

The metallic gold powder is dusted over the printed paste design, adhering to the cloth.

This and other Anokhi sarongs are made using these traditional handblock printing processes and gold dusting. This most versatile of cover-ups can be used as a wrap for yourself or precious cargo, a scarf or shawl, or to adorn your table. We couldn’t help but scoop them up for our ClothRoads store.

This Anokhi sarong has a final design printed using gold metallic.

The post All by Hand: Block Printing Cloth at Anokhi appeared first on ClothRoads.

Handwoven silk, indigo dyed, block printed spiral cloth

The Weave

Since I am a weaver and dyer, I usually focus on a weave structure first. I’ve been entranced by this cloth from the first time I laid eyes on it, even before it was printed and dyed. Look at its fineness—silk with a warp sett at about 50 ends per inch. For the non-weaver, this means there’s about 50 silk threads in any given vertical inch. For this cloth, some of the weft (the crosswise or horizontal thread) is plain weave, going over and under every one of the warp threads in an almost-transparent ½” section, woven with the same fine silk as the warp. This is followed by a 1/2” of a tussah silk, a more-textured silk with some bumpiness to it, woven fairly dense so the warp is almost covered. This sequence is repeated through the whole cloth. What a simply subtle weave. So, yes, I fell in love with the weave structure first.

Handwoven, indigo-dyed, block-printed silk fabric from Creative Bee in India. Upper half is shown against light background; lower half against black background.

The Dye

Next comes the indigo dyeing—that magic dye that breathes the heavens of blue into the cloth. I do feel that way about indigo especially after watching Mary Lance’s dvd Blue Alchemy, Stories of Indigo for the third time.  It’s at this point that I’m having trouble sorting out if the weave seduced me first or the indigo.  If you’ve dyed with indigo before, you know what I mean.  Try my Alchemy of Indigo blog to learn more.

The Pattern

What happens next, in the making of this cloth, is rich– the printing of the spiral repeat with discharge paste, the cloth then sun dried, steamed, and washed; the white and light blue marks remaining where the indigo was removed from the fabric. You can experience the making of this cloth at Creative Bee Block Printing, as documented by David McLanahan.

Indigo-dyed, handwoven silk cloth being printed with discharge paste to make spiral design.

The Cloth and Scarf

This cloth has been snatched up many times at textile shows that we decided to make it into scarves–exclusive to ClothRoads. Now you too can let these spirals, forever stamped, curl around the edges of your neck and be enraptured too. They’re now available in the ClothRoads store along with other ClothRoads-exclusive  scarves.

Handwoven, hand-dyed indigo, and block-printed with natural dyes, this beautiful silk fabric has layers of design.

The post The ClothRoads Scarf of the Month: The Indigo Spiral appeared first on ClothRoads.

Ñawi Awapa, a woven tubular edging

My fingers became all thumbs. I’d get in a rhythm that would last a few passes, and then I’d lose my cross. Since I spoke a little Spanish, it was assumed a Spanish-speaking instructor would suffice. Heck, I thought so too. I mean, just how hard can it be to make a tubular cord? Heck, I’ve done intricate braiding before. But I was quickly reminded, this wasn’t braiding, it’s weaving.  And it’s not just any weaving but ñawi awapa (eye border), the crossed-warp tubular edging that’s applied to most of the Peruvian Chinchero textiles.

Ñawi Awapa edging on Peruvian Chinchero weaving

I was lashed to an in-progress cord by a hook in the wall at the Center for Traditional Textiles in Cusco, Peru. Concentration was required as my fingers crisscrossed the threads, the weft always passing through the warp in one direction creating  the tube. Every so often I looked up from my cord and asked, “Bueno?” and my teacher would nod her head or look at my ñawi awapa, cross a few threads and get me back on track. Three hours later, I fumbled through enough that I could make the cord.

A few years later, I took the workshop again–same location but with partial English instruction. Clearly, this technique had not entered my muscle memory. But at least this time, I walked away with a neatly made cord and many notes should I attempt it again.

Opportunity presented itself. This past weekend, Nilda Callañaupa, with assistance from Antonia Rojo, was teaching ñawi awapa in conjunction with the opening of the Weaving Lives exhibit at the Avenir Museum, Colorado State University, Fort Collins. I had falsely assumed that most Peruvian Highland weavers knew this technique. But Antonia is from the Pitumarca community, and while she weaves the most intricate scaffold, or discontinuous warp, weaving, ñawi awapa was new to her. So I watched Nilda teach her; Antonia picked it up in minutes.

Ñawi awapa being woven by Antonia Rojo.

After watching her, I went home, clamped my ñawi awapa loom to one end of the table and lashed the other end to my waist.  This was now my third time and I was charmed.

Here you can see what the loom consists of– a forked stick to keep the warp threads in order. Some form of batten to beat the weft tightly (a tongue depressor works). The warp is then tied to the body and tensioned at the other end to something stable.

Ñawi awapa (eye border) loom: forked stick and batten.

But here’s the trick, this edging is mostly made to finish and decorate the border of the textiles. The Peruvian weavers attach it to the textile  as they weave the textile  and make the ñawi awapa edging all at the same time. I’m daunted.

Ñawi awapa being attached to edge of woven cloth.

So if you want ñawi awapa in your future, you can buy these amazing  textiles in our shop. Your next chance to learn ñawi awapa is this coming November at the Tinkuy, a gathering of weavers in Cusco. Very soon we will be sharing all the details for participating in this global textile adventure.

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