Yarrenyty Arltere Art Centre

The first time I saw the work of Dulcie Sharp and the other artists of the Yarrenyty Arltere Art Centre was at the Tarnanthi Festival of Contemporary Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art in Adelaide in October last year. Their soft sculptures and hand embroidery jumped out at me. I immediately felt a connection. It is as if every figure had a soul.

I spoke to some of the artists at the Adelaide event but did not have the opportunity for an in-depth conversation. While working on an article about the artists for Inspirations Magazine (Issue 91- available in July 2016) I communicated with Sophie Wallace, art coordinator at the centre via email and phone, but I longed to see how and where the artists work and to experience the place that inspires them so much. When our family holiday plans to Central Australia came together, I made sure a visit to the Yarrenyty Arltere Art Centre was on the itinerary.

My visit on a perfect autumn day in April could not have happened at a better time! I arrived at the centre on the outskirts of Alice Springs just as a blanket was pulled out of the dye vat. Wool blankets obtained from second-hand shops or donations form the basis for all the soft sculptures. Opening up a newly dyed blanket bundle has everyone in suspense. The rusted metal pieces and the natural plant dyes used in the process ensure that the final product is always an eagerly awaited surprise. This one had subtle green and charcoal patterns which would eventually find their way into another unique artwork.

I was fortunate to see the whole artistic process in action. From the newly dyed blankets all the way to the finished sculpture. The artists come up with concepts for their work, usually inspired by their everyday life in the town camps, or their vivid imaginations.

 

These concepts are sketched out and developed before being translated into pattern pieces. The figures are cut from the blankets, machine stitched and stuffed before it is meticulously filled in with hand embroidery. The story behind each piece dictates the pattern and the colours used for the embellishments.

All the work is done at the art centre where the artists come together around a big table piled with yarn and thread in every conceivable colour, texture and thickness. Works in progress and new ideas scribbled on sketchpads find a space on there too. On the day of my visit, I met Rosabella Ryder, Dulcie Sharpe, and Trudy Inkamala. Candy the art centre’s mascot dog kept watch under the table, making sure everyone was happy and safe.

The soft sculptures coming from the hands of these artists, working quietly in this far-flung and remote part of the world, are in high demand in galleries from New York to Singapore. But here around the table, that does not matter. What matters are the stories that are coming to life, stitch by colourful stitch.

Seeing where these sculptures are conceived, I now understand where their soul comes from. It comes from the hearts and lives of these women who tell their stories with their hands. Needle and thread translate the soul of the Larapinta Town Camp in Alice Springs into artworks worthy of the best art collections in the world.

Kaffe Fassett – no doubt about colour

When in doubt add twenty more colours.

Kaffe Fassett fabric used in one of his quilt designs

I heard this quote from Kaffe Fassett many years ago, long before I really knew who he was or how extraordinarily creative he is. I was a young Afrikaans girl in suburban Pretoria, South Africa. All I knew was that he’s a man from ‘overseas’ who knitted multi-coloured garments. There were so many things about him which were completely foreign to me.

Firstly, I didn’t know men can knit. Secondly, I didn’t know that knitting was considered art and that one can make a living from it. I also didn’t know it was ‘allowed’ to mix all these colours together. I came from a time and place where blue and green didn’t go together, beige was always a safe option, and only mums and grannies knitted.

I had no idea that many years later I would live ‘overseas’, have a career which revolves around creative needlework, and actually have the opportunity to meet the man himself.

Filled with energy and enthusiasm during his talk

Kaffe Fassett and his business partner Brandon Marbly visited Australia earlier this year, doing a series of talks and workshops around the country. I had the opportunity to meet him in Adelaide on the last weekend of a hectic almost two-month tour.

What struck me most about him was not his amazing talent or sense of colour, although that is something to behold. It’s his amazing energy. Kaffe is in his early 80’s yet talk, move and act like someone at least 20 years younger. He is bursting with enthusiasm about his work, about colour, about meeting other creatives, and about teaching.

When in doubt add twenty more colours

He is extremely prolific, turning out designs for fabric ranges, quilts, as well as knitting patterns and books at a pace which makes me tired just thinking about it. As someone who takes the time to process information and contemplates ideas before putting it into action (read: procrastinate), I am in awe of this skill!

In his talk, he tells about his travels to different parts of the world. Australia, South East Asia, Africa and India, features alongside South America and Europe. He finds inspiration in everything from street markets to faded wall paint. But it is not just the far away and exotic which speaks to him – he finds as much inspiration from his neighbour’s garden as from a faraway location. As long as there is colour, Kaffe can turn it into something extraordinary.

Kaffe designs knitwear for Rowan, fabric for Westminster Fibres, and needlepoint tapestries for Ehrman. He also publishes an array of books on quilting, knitting and colour inspiration. I found his autobiography Dreaming in Colour, especially interesting and inspiring.

Image from Kaffe’s slide show

One of the questions put to him during his talk was how he gets time for everything. For Kaffe, the answer is simple: No television, no mobile phone and no computer. Brandon, who is his business manager, handles all those things, freeing up Kaffe’s time and mind to create. He loves listening to music while he designs and to BBC Radio 4 while he stitches.

Brandon working on a design wall

During the workshop, Kaffe and Brandon shared another secret: Work with music. Choose something with a beat and turn it up loud. Move to the rhythm! Kaffe believes in doing first and editing later. When designing a new quilt, he works on a flannel covered design wall where he can put up all his fabric pieces, adding as many colours and patterns as he wants. Then he stands back and edits by removing and rearranging. His mantra is – Don’t be afraid. Add more colour and pattern.

Listening to Kaffe and watching him work and talk about colour is extremely inspirational. He oozes energy and enthusiasm for life. Beige does not feature anywhere in his work or life, blue and green can go together, and with many other colours too.

I now realise that that quote I heard so many years ago does not just apply to needlework. It applies to life.

Have you attended any of his workshops or made any of his designs? Please share!

Deborah McKellar Talking Textiles in Singapore

The taxi dropped me off at a busy intersection in downtown Singapore. The narrow sidewalk, stacked with car and motorcycle tyres, fronted a row of workshops where men huddled over dismantled wheels and greasy axles. My inquiries about the textile studio indicated on the map were answered with blank stares. Just when I thought I had the wrong address I found the narrow staircase tugged in between the tyre shops, with a sign saying Talking Textiles: 4^th floor.

Winding my way up the steep stairs, I’m encouraged by phrases painted onto the steps saying things like ‘Stairway to Heaven’; ‘Art lovers, design enthusiasts and shopaholics – Welcome’. As I was about to run out of breath near the top, this one, ‘Feeling unfit? Join the Pilates class.’

Once I reached the top landing a wooden door opened up into a light filled, airy studio where I’m welcomed by designer and artist, Deborah McKellar, and her assistant Adeline. With a refreshing cup of green tea in hand, Deborah leads me on a guided tour of the open plan studio, office and retail area. The glass wall making up one side of the space opens up onto a wide roof terrace where a cat lounge lazily on the sofa overlooking the Singapore cityscape. The vantage point and the view is a far cry from the tyre shops below.

Deborah, born and raised in South Africa, completed a BA in fine arts at LASALLE-SIA College of the Arts in Singapore, followed by a Master of design, majoring in Textiles, at the College of Fine Arts at the UNSW in Sydney. She now divides her time between her textile design studio, lecturing in Fashion Textiles at her Alma mater, and practising her fine art.

Her workspace is full. Rolls of textiles, huge colourful canvasses, and piles of hand printed cushions overwhelm the senses and create a feast for the eyes. Yet, the huge printing table, the neat desk and the well-organised supply shelves, create a sense of order and calmness. This combination of overwhelming creativity and calm order, I soon realise, is what makes Deborah a successful artist and businesswoman.

Her work is distinctly Singaporean. Deborah’s habit of photographing typical Asian architecture, the tropical landscape, and other local design features, forms the basis of her work. She uses these images to create various screen prints which are then used in different combinations and colours to create cushion covers, tea towels and other décor items, marketed under the trade name Talking Textiles. Her series Raffles, inspired by the architecture and features of the famous Singaporean hotel, can be viewed and bought at her retail space in the hotel.

photo courtesy of Talking Textiles

The huge canvases covering the studio walls are layered with screen printed images and textile strips, overlaid with freehand machine embroidery, creating works of fine art. “My first solo exhibition was back in 2012 and I aim to do one solo exhibition every year,” Deborah explains. “I enjoy the freedom of making fine art, but it does take many hours to create a big enough body of work for an exhibition.”

As if a busy textile design business, her role as part-time lecturer at LASALLE-SIA, and a successful fine arts career are not enough, Deborah believes in giving back and paying forward. The Talking Textiles studio takes on apprentices and students, to teach, coach and prepare for careers in the textile art world.

Before I left the studio, I asked if I could take a few photos. While I busied myself trying to capture the riotous colour and rich textures of the textiles, Deborah rummaged through a stack of tea towels to find one of each design so I could pick one as a gift. I asked if I could photograph her in front of one of her canvases to which she readily agreed. As she took up position in front of the canvas, she took the clip which held her hair up in a bun out to let it fall over her shoulders. In one quick movement, Deborah changed from a designer business woman into an artist, and the switch between calm order and overwhelming creativity which I noticed on my arrival happened right before my eyes.

As I exited the narrow staircase back onto the busy sidewalk filled with tyres and noise, all I could see was rich colour, tropical designs, and the distinctive Singaporean style. The narrow staircase did, in fact, lead to heaven. Textile heaven, that is.

The Marriage Bed

This is the story of my entry into Dare to Differ 2015.

THE MARRIAGE BED
My kombers en jou matras en …*
(My blanket and your mattress and …)
*Part lyrics from an old Afrikaans folk song

When we got married, most of our furniture were hand-me-downs from our respective childhood homes. Our bed, however, was brand new. The first piece of furniture we bought as a couple – a symbol of two lives becoming one and a place where we could dream and plan a future together.
The bed served us well for 15 years and even came with us when we moved to different countries. It was our refuge where we escaped the world, where we felt saved and loved, and the cradle where our family was conceived and cared for.
When it was time to replace the bed, I saved the frame and started working on the blanket, using yarn from my stash collected over the years from different parts of the world. They all represent a time and a place where we shared our lives. The blanket and the mattress are made separately and then stitched together in such a way that it cannot be separated again without destroying the whole thing.
THE MARRIAGE BED represents our marriage. Two separate entities becoming one. Each one with different characteristics and different values, which when put together cannot be taken apart again. The one provides strength and support, the other provides warmth and safety. Together they create a home and a family.
The lyrics come from our childhood, they don’t define us, but they anchor us. They make us belong.
As with any marriage, this one is not perfect. Dropped stitches, tension variations, messy colour changes, wires poking through in odd places, and loose ends – mostly hidden out of sight but still there. Looking closely you will see many flaws, but standing back, you will see a harmony of colour, the words will become clear and make sense, the structure will be strong and organised, and the threads will hold it all together.

****************

knitted strips

This project started way back in 2011. At that stage, we were living in Dubai and had just bought a new bed. I had a vague idea of what I wanted to make, or rather what I wanted to say, but had no fixed plan of how to go about it. I knew it had to involve the mattress frame and a knitted blanket. The snippet of lyrics served as the inspiration.

The plan I came up with eventually meant I had to knit the blanket in strips, weave it through the mattress springs and then stitch it together through the wire afterwards. It was the only way to get the knitting inside the steel springs. It took a bit of trial and error to get the right dimensions for the blocks and strips, which I then used to draw up a pattern and eventually a graph for each letter.

The blocks are 16 stitches wide by 80 rows long. Five blocks in a strip, times 24 strips. I started out with the blank strips at the side, using different stitch patterns, but I soon realised that it won’t work once I start the intarsia knitting for the letters, so I kept most blocks in plain stitch.

I used the yarn that I had, adding as I needed or ran out of colours. The plan was not to plan. My only guide was that the whole letter, which spans three blocks, had to be in the same colour and to not have two similar colours next to each other. I used different thicknesses of yarn but the same needles throughout, which means the tension differs, but I think that is quite appropriate for a marriage!

I knitted over time with periods in between when I didn’t do anything. My dear husband patiently allowed me to have the mattress frame packed and shipped with the rest of our household when we moved to Australia in 2012. I have no idea what the packers thought when they had to wrap it up in bubble wrap and load it into the container to ship across the Indian Ocean…

The knitting was coming along well but was still separate from the mattress when earlier this year I decided to force a deadline on myself, just to get it done. My mind wouldn’t allow me to start anything else before this one was out of my system, so I decided to submit it for the Dare to Differ exhibition. Now I had something to work for, and even if it wasn’t chosen it would still be finished.

Behind the scenes

Putting the knitting and the wire frame together took less time than I thought. It was a bit tricky at times to get my hand in between the wires and I had several scratches on my hands and wrists by the time I was done.

My husband made the stand which I think came out really good and goes well with the rest of the work. I like the big bold wooden bases and the fact that the steel supports are almost invisible.

So there we are – a marriage bed with a story.

What will I do next?

PRUDENCE MAPSTONE: TOTEMS

Prudence Mapstone needs no introduction. She is the queen of freeform knitting, crochet, and yarn manipulation. Her colourful, vibrant and fun work always draws a crowd – and admiring sighs and smiles. Her totem exhibition at this year’s Fair is no exception. The totems, displayed in a small alcove next to her yarn stand, cannot be missed – just follow the crowd.

Totems represent a kinship group – a clan, family or tribe – where some totems celebrate cultural or religious beliefs while others are merely decorative and an artistic expression of a shared experience. Prudence’s totems fall into this latter group. She celebrates yarn. It is as simple as that.

The colours, textures and thickness of the different yarns dictate how she applies them. “It is an organic process. “I start by choosing a colour palette and it just grows from there.” Prudence makes a swirl, or a scrumble as she calls it, adds new colours, change the stitch patterns and builds on it until she, well… stops. When she has a few of these, she lays them out on a flat surface, plays around with it, then she fills the gaps with more knitting or crochet stitches. And so the totem grows until the scrumble clan is complete.

Sometimes there are recurring themes, like the mitred knitting, or the bullion flowers, or the felted balls, but other times many different styles and stitch patterns sit comfortably next to each other like different personalities in one big happy family.

Prudence is as delightful as her work, she smiles, talks and shares. It is obvious that she loves people, yarn, and yarn-loving people in equal measures.

To see her work and find out about her classes, books and patterns visit her website at http://www.knotjustknitting.com

Fabric of Life – and love

When I walked into Mary Jose’s shop in Melbourne Street for the first time, I thought – so this is what heaven must look like. Fabrics and textiles from all over the world were hanging on the walls, draped over tables, and tucked into shelves. The colour was glorious, but the smell was even better. I reminded myself of what I always tell my children before we go into a shop: ‘This is a hands-behind-your-back-shop. Don’t touch.’ But alas – I couldn’t help myself – I had to touch everything. I stroked the suzani’s, I hugged the kanthas, I caressed the Indian embroideries. I loved Mary’s shop and couldn’t wait to meet her.

Since then I learned that Mary is not just a Fair Trade textile dealer, but also one of the leading textile conservationists in the country, with an impressive list of conservation projects from across the world to her name.

As an Art History student in Canberra, Mary soon realised textiles were her first love, so after graduating, she moved to the UK where she studied at the Textile Conservation Centre, then housed at the Hampton Court Palace. She spent several years at the Textile Conservation Studio where she also worked on the Hampton Court Tapestries. After returning to Adelaide she joined ArtLab Australia, working on conservation projects for different Australian and international museums and galleries. For the past five years, Mary has been an independent conservation consultant with clients across the globe. (The conservation of the banners in the St Peter’s Cathedral is one of her ongoing projects.)

It was a textile tour to China in 1990 that sparked Mary’s interest in ethnic embroideries and textiles, and paved the way for her business venture as a textile trader. She travels regularly to India and other Asian countries where she meets the artisans. Mary is a strong believer in ethical trading and she buys all her textiles from the original artists in their traditional environment, thereby ensuring authenticity and quality. By following Fair Trade principals she also ensures that her business supports community development, self-sufficiency and sustainability.

Mary has recently moved her shop online and her conservation studio to her home in North Adelaide. On the day I visited she was working on a vintage scarf which needed to be cleaned and mounted for a private client; a military jacket dating from World War I which needed some restoration, for a private collector; and a raised embroidery piece which needed professional cleaning, also for a private collector.

The walls in her studio are lined with shelves – some filled with her glorious textile collection, some filled with her vast collection of textile and art books, and some filled with her growing range of handmade cards.

These cards are part of a new initiative she recently launched. Beautifully embroidered or printed textiles, designed and handmade by individual artists, are framed with cardstock and made into greeting cards. But it is more than a card; it is an artwork all in itself. Mary stocks several ranges from India and a vibrant range from Malawi. Every card she sells help support an artist and his/her family in an ethical and sustainable fashion.

Mary’s house-studio-shop is indeed a little piece of heaven. Not just because of the sight and smell of glorious fabrics, but because of her love and devotion to the origin of these textiles – the history of the old textiles which she respectfully helps preserve, and the future of the ethnic textile traditions which she so lovingly supports. Her love for textiles reaches into the hearts of all she works with – artists, collectors and customers. Mary’s life is not a hands-behind-your-back life. It is a hug, embrace and touch life.

Visit Fabric of Life’s website here

Cheryl Bridgart

It’s all about the journey. What a great motto for life. And what a vibrant, colourful journey it has been for Cheryl. Her current exhibition is the culmination of a year’s work, inspired by her artistic travels around the country during 2012.

Cheryl is a well-established, internationally recognised artist known for her self-developed technique called Fine Art Freehand Machine Embroidery or FAFME. With this technique Cheryl ‘sketches’ on canvas and paper using a sewing machine, fine cotton thread and her unlimited imagination.

While accompanying her travelling fellowship to every capital city in Australia and New Zealand, Cheryl documented her impressions with sketches and drawings that she later translated into embroideries, paintings and outfits. Each place she visited is represented by an embroidered artwork, depicting her impressions on the day – the outfit she wore, the people she met, and the attractions she visited.

However, Cheryl’s impressions of a place could not be contained in one artwork. It overflowed and inspired vivid dreams that she later expressed in colourful paintings and a series of smaller embroideries.

Cheryl is not only known for her unique style of embroidery but also for her signature, handmade outfits, which are as vivacious and colourful as her personality. She makes all her own clothes and always wears a hat. For each of her travelling shows, she had a purpose made outfit, which is now part of the current exhibition and depicted in both her embroideries and paintings.

What I love about Cheryl is that she does not hide. She lives her art. At this exhibition, as with most others, she works in the gallery, demonstrating her technique to visitors, sharing her ideas and inspirations, and generally lights up the room with her bright personality.

She is not a dark artist. Colour and positive energy are as much part of her work as her love for birds and animals, her ability to tell stories with pictures, and her obvious enjoyment of her craft.

It’s all about the journey is on until 21 April 2014 at the Bay Discovery Centre, Glenelg Town Hall on Moseley Square, Glenelg. Please pay a visit. It will brighten up your day.

Maria Hilder

The Blue Dress Series: memories are on the inside 2012

It was that intense shade of sky blue polka dot fabric which first attracted my attention. The triptych of small blue dress sculptures, guarded by the tailor’s dummy in the blue dress, demanded closer inspection.

I was back at the T’Arts Gallery in Gay’s Arcade where embroidery artist Maria Hilder’s work was on display.

The Blue Dress Series: memories are on the inside 2012

“Whenever I think back to my childhood, I imagine my mother in that dress. In my memory, she always wears that particular blue polka dot dress.” Maria tells me. “I never consciously thought about it, but when I had to come up with an artwork for a group exhibition called Dress, I suddenly had a light bulb moment – my mother’s blue dress. For me, it has become a symbol of my mother, domesticity, comfort, innocence and home.”

The Dress: memories

The dress sculptures are constructed of two layers of stitched cloth. The outside depicting her mother’s dress and the inside telling the story of an event which occurred during her childhood on their station in the Flinders ranges.

Maria creates all her work with freehand machine embroidery. She studied textile design and worked as a screen printer. One day she ran out of fabric as a result of an airline strike and started stitching instead.

Always 1997

Most of Maria’s work is based on childhood memories. She showed me a chair that used to belong to her late grandmother. The chair stood in her childhood bedroom, which she shared with her sister. Maria stitched a new cover for the chair depicting the eucalyptus leaves and flowers from her childhood garden.

My grandmother’s chair

Maria explains her process for creating a new work. “The mental process of thinking, planning and growing an idea can take ages. I can ‘work’ on a piece for a long time without ever touching paper or fabric. I then move on to making sketches and drawing a rough outline on a piece of fabric. Once I start stitching, the work grows, changes and generally takes on a life of its own. Because machine stitching is such a labour intensive and time-consuming method, my work tends to be small and limited in scale.”

Detail

Maria works intuitively. She uses her art to process her memories, find humour in otherwise sad events and to bond with people and place.

When not creating fine art, Maria creates highly decorated Irish Dance costumes. She first came to this through her niece who is a dancer but now finds it gives her a connection with her Irish ancestry. “And when I can contribute to making a girl feel pretty and special, it is always rewarding,” Maria adds.

Read more about Maria and her work on her website.

Craft Fiction

 

I write stories, but I don’t write fiction.

Everybody and everything has a story and I’m always trying to find the story behind the facts when I write an article, an interview or a blog post.

A while ago I was toying with the idea of writing a real story. A fictional story. But what will I write about? I always thought a story has to come to you; you can’t chase it or make it up. You have to wait for it. Once the storyline or plot or main character has revealed itself to you, you can then go on and find the rest of the story.

I thought about using my normal milieu of craft and needlework as a setting and write some Craft Fiction. You know, a story about a group of stitching ladies solving a murder in between knitting a sweater and finishing their next cross-stitch. Nothing too ‘out there’…

To kick things off I decided to do some research into the topic. Is there any craft fiction about? Would anybody read it? Would anybody sell it? And more importantly, would anybody publish it? What I found is quite astounding. There’s heaps of craft fiction out there! I promptly set off to the library to lay my hands on some. I took two books home to read.

Knitting Bones

The first one, by Monica Ferris, is called Knitting Bones and is book eleven in a 16-book series called Needlecraft Mysteries. Some other titles in the series are Crewel World, Framed in Lace, Hanging by a Thread and Cutwork. Did you have any idea that needlework terms could sound so menacing? These books centre on an amateur detective called Betsy Devonshire, who owns and runs a needlework shop called Crewel World. When Betsy is not busy with knitting or embroidery, she solves murders and other mysteries.

As I did not start at the beginning of the series, it took me a while to get into the book and familiar with all the characters. I normally like mystery/detective stories, but I have to admit that this is not one of my favourites. The story and plotline are quite good, but I got the feeling that the whole needlework theme is a bit forced. It goes into lengthy explanations of knitting patterns and embroidery designs, which really does not add anything to the story.

I will probably read one more book in the series, just to see if my first impressions are correct, but I don’t think I will work my way through all 16 books.

    www.monica-ferris.com

The Friday Night Knitting Club

The second book I read is called The Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs. The book centres on Georgia Walker and her daughter Dakota, who (you guessed it) owns a yarn shop in Manhattan’s Upper West Side. The Friday Night Knitting Club is a group of yarn shop regulars who get together on a Friday evening to … ah… knit. This is not a mystery novel and there are no murders to solve. It is actually a great book about human relationships, love and friendship. It is not a genre I usually read, but I really enjoyed the book. I think it is well-written, with great characters and the references to yarn, knitting and needlework fitted in quite naturally.

The book is the first in a series of three books, but it stands on its own very well and feels like a complete story.

   Kate Jacobs

Other Craft Fiction authors I discovered but have not read yet are:

Anne Canadeo
Maggie Sefton
Barbara Bretton
Terri DuLong
Gil McNeil
Debbie Macomber
Anne Bartlett
Stephanie Pearl-McPhee
Beth Pattillo
Sally Goldenbaum
Ann Hood
Mary Kruger
Claire La Zebnik
Nicole R Dickson
Elizabeth Lenhard
Linda Roghaar
Betty Hechtman
Kathy Gleason

Do you read Craft Fiction? Who is your favourite author?

My visit to a bedouin weaver

It is a windswept Saturday morning.

 The Weather Bureau warned about cold winds blowing across the Gulf from the snow covered mountains of Iran. As the sand billows across the road and the driver cling to the wheel, I peer at the desolate and featureless desert landscape passing by the car window. “Who would want to live here?” I wonder. 

I am on my way to Sila, a small village in the Northern part of the Emirate of Abu Dhabi; about 3 hours drive from the city and the last outpost before the border with Saudi Arabia.  There is nothing here. Not even dunes. Just flat stretches of coarse, colourless sand as far as the eye can see. 

I am accompanied by Leila Ben-Gacem, the project leader of the Sougha Project. We are on our way to visit Bhkita and Hamama, a Bedouin mother-and-daughter team who are part of Leila’s team of traditional weavers. They graciously opened their home to me to introduce me to the art of Sadou weaving.

Leila showing off one of Bhkita’s bags

Sadou is a traditional Bedouin form of weaving.

The women, working on ground looms, produce long narrow strips of patterned textile using yarn spun from camel and goat hair or sheep wool. These textile strips are then sewn together to make the walls of their traditional tents, camel bags and other utilitarian items.

 These days, however, things look a bit different. With the rapid economic development of the United Arab Emirates, the Bedouin’s nomadic lifestyle has all but disappeared.  The government has built houses for the nomads and settled them in formal villages where they have learned to live with electricity and other modern conveniences. The children go to school and move on to careers in the city.  It is a wonderful privilege and opportunity their parents never had, but it means ancient Bedouin traditions are fast dying out. 

One of these traditions is Sadou weaving. A craft which were passed on from mother to daughter and which were done in communal settings where folklore and female wisdom could be passed down from one generation to the next. Now only the older women still know how to do it and their daughters are in general not interested. 

A close-up of the tent-wall

Enters Leila and her Sougha Project.

It is an initiative launched by the Khalifa Fund aimed at preserving local heritage by developing traditional artisans. The women are taught how to adapt their products to the current market and trained to create opportunities for themselves. 

Leila is a petite Tunisian woman with short dark hair and a big smile.  What she lacks in stature she more than makes up for in energy and enthusiasm.  She lives for this project and these Bedouin women. I’ve met Leila last summer. She showed me the products for sale at their kiosk in Abu Dhabi, told me about the Sougha project and invited me to visit the Liwa Date Festival where I would see the ladies working.  

I visited the date festival later in July 2011 where I observed some of the ladies do their telli embroidery (that’s a different story…) and weave palm fronds into baskets, mats and other household items.  The weavers were displaying their wares but obviously not doing any weaving on the show.  I bought a small woven carpet from Bhkita’s stall.  Her work mesmerised me. It was obvious that here was a very talented woman. Her designs and quality of craftsmanship were a step above the rest. The language barrier (my Arabic is as limited as her English) meant that it was not possible to ask her about her work but I wanted to know more. Leila obliged and organised for me to visit her home. And here we are… 

As we arrive at Bkhita’s house we are welcomed by her daughter Hamama

and invited into a Bedouin tent erected right next to their brick and mortar house.  The inside walls of the tent are made from traditional woven wall panels, the floor is covered in carpets. Big pillows are set around the edge of the tent as floor seating. A low wooden table is laid out with Arabic coffee, dates, fruit and pastries.  The only reminder that we are in the 21^st century is the big TV screen against the one wall. 

Enjoying coffee and treats with Bhkita and Hamama

 As soon as we are seated on the carpet, Hamama serves us small cups of coffee and dates.  It is obvious that both women are delighted to see Leila. They chatter non-stop updating Leila on all the latest gossip in town.  Leila tells me they are very honoured to share their craft with me and I must please show the world the beautiful things they make. I am happy to oblige. 

Admiring Bhkita’s work

Bhkita shows me some of her finished work

in between telling me about her children and grandchildren (Leila has to translate very fast, as Bhkita never stops talking!), .  She uses the woven cloth to make bags in different sizes – from handbags, laptop bags, pencil cases, makeup bags and more – to coasters, table runners and other household goods.  She not only weaves but also sews the bags all by herself.  She buys camel leather from the tannery in Al Ain (another Khalifa Fund initiative), the cotton she uses for the lining as well as the thread and fasteners she buys in Abu Dhabi or Doha. She uses a modern, electricity-driven sewing machine. 

A Sadou laptop bag

Bhkita’s age is a mystery but I guess her to be in her late sixties. She never went to school. Her childhood was spent roaming the desert with her family. According to her daughter, she attended an ‘illiteracy eradication programme’ provided by the government. She can write her name and she ‘knows numbers’.  But don’t be fooled – this is a very smart, intelligent woman. And immensely talented.  The woven strips she makes as inserts to her leather bags are narrower than what she would normally make for a tent wall.

Bhkita’s latest design.  She is very proud of this one.
Can you see all the counting going on here?

The patterns are intricate and delicate.

The colour combinations are inspirational. The quality of craftsmanship is exceptional.  Bhkita is very proud of her work and her designs.  She makes sure I notice that there are no flaws in the textile or pattern.  She doesn’t make mistakes. 

Bhkita has an amazing instinct for colour

The ‘workshop’ is in the house.

When we had enough (too much) to eat and drink it was time for her to show me how she works.  As we enter the front door, the floor loom is the first thing I see.  It is set out on the carpet in the reception area of her house. In a traditional setting, the loom would be made of split palm tree trunks held together with palm fibre twine. The single heddle would be held in place with wooden stakes.  The ‘modern’ version I see in front of me is made of galvanised pipes held together with nylon rope. The piece of pipe holding the string heddles is kept in place with bricks. 

Bhkita with her floor loom

I am not a weaver. When I look at woven textile I look at the colours, the patterns and the texture. I don’t pay much attention to the technicalities of the weaving process. The little bit that I do know about weaving is that the warp yarns are the strong ones which are strung across the loom and keep the textile intact but are usually not visible in the finished product.  The weft yarns are softer, thicker and of different colours. They determine the design. 

At work

I was therefore quite surprised when I realised that with the floor loom things work the other way around.  The warp yarns, strung across the loom in a figure-eight, hold the pattern and the weft yarn provides the strength. Therefore the warp yarns are the coloured ones and are strung onto the loom in a predetermined order. The weaver has to work out the pattern before she sets up the loom. This sounds easy if you have a graph or a pattern to work from, but these women are illiterate.  They don’t have paper patterns to work from.  It’s all in their head. No wonder Bhkita ‘knows numbers’ – counting is what she does! 

The warp yarns determine the pattern

Bhkita sits on top of the woven part of her textile, facing the heddles. Her hands seems to work effortlessly, but I soon realise weaving on a floor loom is a physical job.  She has two sword beaters or el haifs (flat pieces of wood with pointed ends and bevelled edges) set into the warp yarns in different configurations, as determined by her pattern. By turning one of them on the side she opens up the shed and increases the tension at the same time.  After she passed the shuttle or el masr (a stick on which the weft yarns has been wound) through, she beats the weft into place with a hook beater.  In traditional times this used to be a gazelle horn but now it is an iron hook or a bent screw driver. Beating every row is very important to keep the textile tight and to ensure an even tension throughout.  

The string heddles and the sword beaters

Bhkita enjoys demonstrating her work to me. 

Every now and then she makes sure that I understand everything, that I have good enough photos of every step and whether she can tell me anything more… And if I’m satisfied she carries on talking about her children and their families and about their winter camp-outs in the desert. 

She tells me about harvesting desert truffles(“faqah”).

When the desert had good rains in December but stays dry during January, the Bedouins go truffle hunting in March. It’s a treasured delicacy, difficult to find but oh, so delicious to eat. 

On our way back to the city I look at the desolate landscape with new eyes. It is still harsh and barren but now I see colour and pattern. And now I know who wants to live here – people who see beauty in the landscape; people who love their children and family.  And people who can find truffles in the sand.

*This post first appeared on my personal blog in December 2012