Mouse, Birds, and Bags

Just a review of recent projects I've been working on...

I've always wanted to knit a stuffed animal... this little mouse was a quick project and a great way to use remnant yarn.  A baby gift for a friend.

I made these throw pillows.  I carved the bird design and printed each by hand.  They'll live in our bedroom.

This is a repeat of a bag I designed last spring.  I made this for a clay friend; we exchanged work at the end of the semester.  I added my logo - a quick stamp to the inside lining.  

Skirts for Africa

In preparing for our trip to Africa (next week!) (follow here!) I learned that women in rural Kenya are quite conservative in their dress.  Women do not wear pants or anything that is tight fitting.  I needed to find some long, loose fitting skirts to sustain me for our 3 week trip.  I did look in a few stores before deciding to make the skirts myself... but apparently skirts this season are widely available in two different styles: short and shorter.  This made my decision easy:  I'll just make a few skirts.  This coincided nicely with the work I was doing in my independent study printmaking class.  After choosing a simple pattern and deciding on fabric (the spring linen was on sale at Hancocks!).  I decided to give the skirts a new life and make them a bit more personal by printing them with original designs.  Using the same basic process that I used on my quilt: I carved various designs from the rubber stamp material and went to work printing with the textile printing inks.  

So these are the 3 textiles I created for the skirts.  Mums, gingko, and a bird motif.  Mostly fairly simple patterns that each repeat in a different way.  The gingko pattern (printed on the heaviest weight linen) is a simple grid type repeat.  The mum design (printed on a lightweight linen) was simply a large flower, about the size of a plate, and I masked out sections to create overlaps.  This was the pattern that was easiest and most fun to print.  I was able to design as I went, creating voids between flowers and overlaps.  

The bird motif, which is printed on a rust colored cotton knit, was the biggest headache.  The design was intended to be continuous, lines that were fluid meant to unite the individual repeats of the patterns.  This was a pain to design and almost impossible to keep consistent and straight while printing.   But after review the areas that don't line up aren't all that noticeable and, as my husband said, I'm the only person who will ever know the flaws of the print.

There are a couple of nice things about the skirts.  Its a nice medium to work with because a long skirt accommodates a large pattern easily.  I wasn't burdened by trying to repeat a small 2"x2" design on yards of fabric.  I each design is roughly in the 7"x9" range.  I cut the pattern pieces for the skirts first and then printed (so I didn't waste time printing areas that would not be used).  Each skirt took about 2.5 hours to print.  And as I mentioned, a nice long skirt is forgiving and I think the inconsistencies of the heaviness or lightness of the ink, and the areas that don't line up, all add to the handmade charm and nature of the product.

And this leads to a comment about process.  The process of printing on fabric by hand is still widely practiced in Africa and India.  The act of creation and participation in this process was a nice way of meditation and preparation for the trip.  There is something so basic and fundamental about textiles and clothing... a universal need and a universal method of expression.  I was engaging in a process that is not unique but a natural instinct, and greater than myself.

The final product!  Nicely modeled on my dress form.  I did go ahead and make a skirt without any  printed pattern because at heart this simplicity appeals to me, and it's also quite practical.  I also used another variation of the pattern for the odd skirt.  Each pattern is really simple: side seams, elastic waist, and a hem. I probably spent as much time printing each of the skirts as I did constructing them.  I was weary at first, during the printing and the construction, that I wouldn't like them... but the patterns have grown on me.  I hope (and this is the true test), that I will wear these again, outside of my trip.  That is always the sign of success for homemade clothing, not whether it fits well, or if it is well made, but if it is used.

Daffodil Quilt

Below is my first quilt, a tribute to daffodils.  I love it when daffodils finally show their face... always when the winter is so dreary and lingering that daffodils, in their garish yellow, remind us not to loose hope.  They say 'Fear not'!  Spring is right around the corner!  Daffodils were featured in my wedding bouquet.  In Louisiana daffodils meant Mardi Gras was in full swing.  When we visited Keith and Gerry in the UK the daffodils celebrated Easter.   These daffodils in my yard are a sweet reminder of home:  bulbs my mother dug up from the Tietje farm, bulbs my great grandmother and grandmother planted, multiplied and divided, and now a remnant lies in this SC soil.  And my quilt is done right in time for the daffodils making their debut (a whole month earlier than last year).

I based the color scheme on the whimsical color pallet of a field of daffodils.  Pale blues, blue-greens, yellows, and then really strong yellow.

  

After many iterations, I settled on this layout for my quilt.  I tend to over think things, especially in the planning phase.  I really was doubting this whole project at this point - I just wasn't reacting to it visually and I really wasn't sure how the colors were going to react with each other. 

The pattern for both the layout and the printing scheme wasn't a typical one for a quilt.  It is not symmetrical, it does not repeat, it isn't predictable.  I wanted to convey a sense of movement, I wanted to  blur the edges between the foreground and background.  I really wanted to create depth by layering elements visually.  So the printing was really complex. 

 3 different stamps (daffodil foliage, small face and large face), printed in three different colors (yellow, orange, and brown).  This really changed the whole project in a way that I couldn't have predicted.  Color is so reactive... my cool color palette got alot warmer.  Whatever planning I did was just an outline because once I started printing I abandoned the plan and started reacting to what was happening visually.  It was a really exciting process and I'm glad I didn't get discouraged because it wasn't what I had initially intended.

All of the foliage stamps were printed before the quilt was assembled.  The flowers were printed over, or on top of the seams of the assembled pieces.  I used the sewing machine for the quilt assembly, then quilted and completed most of the binding by hand.

There was one day last week that I wasn't feeling well.  I didn't have school and couldn't motivate myself for housework, so I curled up with this project and spent the ENTIRE DAY quilting by hand.  Wow - I might have underestimated the task.  I had blisters by the time Matthew returned from his day shift at 8:30.  Two blisters on my thumb and forefinger.  I'll definitely look into thimbles next go-round.  I have to say the process of quilting added another dimension to the piece as well.  It added another layer of visual depth, and it reinforced the original layout of the fabric pieces.

If I could change one thing:  Less printing.  I think it is just a little overwhelming - I probably would have left more pieces with just the originals solid color to let the eye rest.

The last lingering question:  Who is it for?  What is it's function?  My professor suggests that it should be a wall hanging.  But this denies its obvious function (it's a wonderful, washable cotton quilt!) and my walls are filled.  It is a child size blanket, so I expect it to be a gift for a special kid one day.  Maybe it can hang on a wall until then.

Clovis on my Lawn

Our final print for printmaking was a studio exchange.  Everyone in the class makes a print for everyone else in the class and we all switch.  The concept for the exchange "Not on my Lawn".  We could really take it any direction we wanted to...  I was lost, for a long time, on what I should do.  There isn't alot of humor in my work, and this concept requires it to some extent.  Eventually I looked to Louisiana for help, and she came through again.

This is a crawfish hole.  When the ground water is high, crawfish will burrow holes and kick up mud in a pipe-like stack.... and in south Louisiana every kid has a memory of kicking these over in their yard when they form after a rainstorm.  Crawfish holes plague the lawns of Louisianians.

And this is Clovis the Crawfish.  Clovis is the main character of a series of beloved children's books that were written to teach younger generations the culture of South Louisiana.  Clovis dabbles in cajun french and lives in the swamp.  

 The print I created combines these two elements of my Louisiana childhood - complete with the Clovis creeping out of the pesky crawfish hole that you don't want on your lawn.  It should be noted that this piece will likely be lost on the majority of my classmates... and I won't be in class for the exchange to explain myself!  Maybe it will prompt them to google 'Clovis the Crawfish'.  I do fear that the pile of mud will be perceived as a pile of something else altogether... oh well... I know what it is and the intent of the artist is most important. :)  Oh, and concerning the print, it is another reduction woodcut, this one of wood instead of linoleum that I used on the previous 'suicide print'. 

Sunday

This printmaking project was really successful I think.  And I often think this is a function of amount of personal investment I have in a piece.  It was certainly personal to me, and it evolved right around the time of Paw-Paw's death.  I call this piece 'Sunday' and it preserves the common memory I have of Paw-Paw, riding the farm on the gator.  This was common on a Sunday afternoon.  But Sunday also makes reference to his stage in life, Sunday being the end of the week, Sunday being the day for the Lord.  The sunset also references the end of a long, beautiful day a metaphor for the end of life. 

The process we are work with is called a reduction print, or 'Suicide Print', because areas are carved out in stages, a different color printed in each layer after more of the surface is reduced.  'Suicide' because you can't go back and reprint once you get started carving.  I instantly thought this related to the way I often work in Photoshop, the process of creating layers that build on each other.  I created this composition as a photo-montage and then determined the appropriate color palette and broke it down into layers.

photo-montage

My photoshop rendering, the goal for the final print.

The first layer was the brilliant sky.  There is the image of the blend roll of ink.

Ink rolled onto my linoleum block.  Nothing is carved out because there is no white in this image.  One of the most important parts of this assignment is making sure that everything lines up at the same place on each successive run through the press.  So a registration jig is used with every print.  This jig has pin in it that align with points you create on each sheet of paper.

Here, the jig is shown, with the paper in place.  A sturdy piece of cardboard and then a thick felt blanket  are placed on top of this and the jig is carefully removed before running through the press.

Sunset printed!  Round 1 through the press.

At home I transferred the image to the linoleum, and cut away the necessary portions for the second round of printing. (Essentially I cut away those areas where I wanted the warm sunset to show through).

Next was a blend roll of white and blue.

Inked plate on the press, the paper ready to accept the next color.

Round 2 through the press.  Boy, that sky really vibrates, doesn't it!  Here you can see, despite the jig, the alignment was slightly off.  Not a big deal at this point; I'm pretty sure subsequent layers of printing will hide this.

 Blend roll number 3.  All the sly is now carved away.  I also created a masking layer to prevent chatter from the sky from transferring to the top.  The colors I mixed for this layer wasn't exactly what I intended, but it was close enough.

Round 4 of printing was solid black, and a maze of masking paper was required to make sure there wasn't any unintentional chatter.

The final result.  Very dynamic, and very personal.  Mom, Dad, Brother, Sister, I've got another print with your name on it for Christmas.

Louisiana's Oil

The next process we studied in printmaking was Wood Cut/Linoleum Cut (we had a choice of which medium we wanted to carve).  Both are Relief Printmaking, meaning that ink is applied to the raised portion of the block surface and printed (whereas with intaglio, where ink was rubbed into the crevices of the plate and that is what printed).  The process is pretty straight-forward: create a black and white composition, carve out the white space, and print the block.

Sketch of woodblock composition.

The concept for this project was "Positive and Negative".  Instantly I thought of Louisiana, because this interplay of positive and negative associations is what haunts me about the state.  I thought about our recent tragedies, Katrina and the oil spill.  And I think they are related.  Related to the Mississippi River, related to politics, related to this dynamic and really unique environment that makes Louisiana special.  I focused on the oil industry.  For 30 years in Louisiana it has been extremely positive for the state.  A source of revenue and stable jobs it is the backbone of our economy.  And yet this spill gives light to precarious nature of the industry and how suddenly what was good became bad.  What we were thankful for became everyone's worse nightmare.  It is a confusing juxtaposition for sure.

Test Plate, Linoleum Cut, Samara Study

My composition illustrates oil on water.  It creates these beautiful marbled patterns, yet it harms our fragile coastline.  Another contradiction.  The oil is meant to be shown out in the gulf, with the mouth of the Mississippi on the horizon.  These forms, our eroding coastline and the marbled oil, I think share the same visual language.  They seemed related to me in some way.  I tried to create a visual perspective with the oil in the foreground,  the gulf in the middle ground, and Louisiana beyond.

I chose use wood for the block.  I  wanted the horizontal grain to be part of the image.  We tested the carving process on a linoleum plate to begin, and then did a few test prints, to learn the process.  Carving wood was a completely different animal... any cut against the grain felt like a gamble.  It was a slow process.  I used a drill bit with steel bristles to remove the weaker parts of the wood to create the middle ground texture. The printing process was mostly painless.  There were several areas where I just hadn't carved down deep enough so area that were white were revealing 'chatter', or black specs that weren't intended.

Overall I'm pleased with the result of my first wood block.  It is a strong concept, and I think and appropriate medium to talk about the spill.  I printed 5 on Japanese Masa paper.  If any Louisiana folk would like a print let me know.  Now that the plate is carved it's rather simple to make more prints.

Intaglio Printmaking - The Farm

The next process we explored in printmaking was etching, or it's formal name, Intaglio.  In this process marks are made on a copper plate, ink is rubbed into those tiny lines and then transfered to paper through the press.  The process of etching the copper plate is not as straight forward as it would seem.  Once you have burnished the copper plate, insuring the surface is smooth and free from oils, you coat the plate in 'hard ground', which is a thick coating that resists acid.  You then carve your design in the plate through the hard ground and dip the whole plate in acid for about 30 minutes.  The acid 'bites' the exposed copper.  Wash off your ground and you'll find your design scored in the copper.

On the left: my copper plate coated with hard ground.  I transfered my sketch (right) to the plate by coating the back with a colored chalk pastel and retracing the lines. 

The concept our class was working from was 'identity'.  I started thinking about how so much of who I am and what I love is tied to the farm.  I thought about the generations of Tietjes cultivating the land and the impressions each one leaves through their work.  So I refashioned an aerial map of the farm, transforming the contour lines, or levees, of the rice fields into an aggregate of fingerprints.  I received really positive reviews from the class on my interpretation of this concept... it seemed to resonate with the audience.

I added another twist to the printing of this plate by incorporating chine-colle.  This method adds a bit of color to an otherwise black and white print by pressing the inked plate to a piece of colored paper coated in glue.  So when I ran this through the press it glued the sheet of tracing paper to the hefty cotton paper and impressed the image at the same time.  It was a headache trying to get this all lined up, making sure the glue didn't bleed too much, ect., but I really like the warm, aged feel of the print.  

I bit this plate in acid at two different times to get a hierarchy of linework.  I really liked all the detail that could be achieved with different types of hatchwork and textures, and I played with those methods to create depth and value in the image.  I'm pleased with the results, although I didn't like the process.  (Inking the plate is time-consuming and very dirty!) 

(To all my Tietje readers: I've got a print for each of you.  Maybe I could frame one for Christmas? :)).

Printmaking: Monotype and Transfers

Our first printmaking project we focused on 2 processes:  monotype and transfer.  These images are a combination of the two processes.  Transfer is simple:  a line drawing is created using black ink, run a copy of the drawing in a copy machine.  Then you use the solvent 'Citrasolve' and the press to transfer the image to your high quality paper.  

Monotype was our first introduction to printmaking inks, which are thick and oil based and really sticky.  For the monotype process apply ink to a small sheet of plexiglass, lay the inked plexiglass face down on your paper and run it through the press.  The ink should be applied in a really thin coat.  

For this project we were required to create an series of three images that illustrated a sequence.  I chose to illustrate the process of decomposition of a leaf.  I wanted to zoom in and examine the vein structure of a leaf and how it breaks apart over time.  

I ran 3 versions of each image in the series.  The middle edition was the 'ghost' image, meaning with the monotype I didn't ink the plate again, I just ran it through the press to capture the ink remaining on the glass from the previous run.  I think I like these ghost images the best; it looks more natural and less fussed over.  There was quite a bit of experimentation across all 9 prints, trying to figure out the properties of these new materials and how to best use the processes.

The jury is still out on printmaking as an art form, and I must say, prospects are not looking good.  The associated processes are slow, and the ink is such a pain to work with and clean up.  I suppose I'm also getting frustrated with myself for not being more patient!  But I'll do my best to see it through the semester.

The following images are the ghosts that I liked best.