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Margaret Abrams
Sampler, 2008
61 cm x 39 cm
Cotton thread on found linen
Sampler embroideries were initially rooted in girl’s schooling, and as reference tools for recreating motifs and complex borders for
the embroiderer, hence being called a cross-stitch sampler. There are no motifs in this sampler, only crudely stitched text, a
rudimentary alphabet and numbers in plain coloured thread; teaching only simple lessons, practical text embroidery and utilitarian
aesthetics.
The phrase refers to lessons young embroiderers were instructed to stitch onto sampler embroidery – religious passages, symbolic
phrases, and mantras. “HOPE FOR THE BEST PLAN FOR THE WORST” is a multi-purpose mantra; referring to embroidery itself in
hope that the labor applied to handwork will be satisfying and fruitful. This references domestic work as a whole in the same realm as
a woman’s work is never done. This is a realistic statement made into a pleasantry through the context of hand embroidery.
Jennifer Akkermans
Full Circle (Laptop Case), 2008
30 cm x 38 cm x 5 cm, with a 106 cm strap.
Recycled materials, dyed and printed
Few technologies reinvent themselves the same way as the Jacquard loom/ computer technology has. The punch card, which led to
the development of the original Jacquard loom also played an essential part in the development of the computer. Computers are now
able to design complex weaving patterns, forming images of threads, which were too complex to be done earlier. The computer has
reinvented weaving. Full Circle is a ‘recycling’ response to the evolution of the computerized loom. Originally an old bedspread, the
material has been remade into a laptop case. The woven material speaks of the ancient technology of the loom, the punch card
image speaks of its own application and innovation, and the laptop speaks of the technology of today.
Julie Baratta
Copy… Paste…. Print…. Repeat, 2008
9 cm x 23cm
Digital print on photo paper (left), digital print on linen (right), antique frames
Copy… Paste…. Print…. Repeat plays on the notion of reproduction in the digital age. Twice removed from its original form as a
beautifully hand embroidered, this linen towel has become a victim of the scanner and digital printer, not to mention a victim of digital
image manipulation.
The original hand towel’s monogram and crochet border was scanned and manipulated with the help of Photoshop. Then, the image
was printed back onto the original piece of cloth. Further removing it from its original context, the printed cloth was then
photographed and the image printed again, this time onto a piece of photographic paper. Presented as a framed diptych, the pair of
reproduced images subtly compete for authenticity.
British design historian, Peter Dormer, in his essay, “Craft and the Turing Test for Practical Thinking,” discusses the idea that
machines have begun producing objects that mimic handicraft. He proposes that computerized production possesses the ability to
“defeat the connoisseur” when it comes to differentiating between products of the hand and products of the computer, suggesting that
in some fields, “especially textiles, the differences are becoming harder to distinguish.” (144)
Deciphering the textile from the photograph in Copy… Paste…. Print…. Repeat becomes a challenge for the viewer. This once
personal handcrafted object presents the ease, convenience, and achievable visual trickery of digital reproduction.
Mary Anne Clarke
The Creators, (20th to 21st century), 2008
20cm x 18cm
Hand embroidery and wood block print on cotton
These three 20th century Canadian doilies vary in quality to suggest a mother teaching her daughters to embroider, as was
traditionally part of a girl’s education. In India this was, and still is, the tradition. Devotion to their gods, fertility, love and beauty in
the everyday are strong themes and can be read through the use of motifs and colors. Similarly, western girls and women
embroidered out of a sense of piety, duty and love for their families. These pure white doilies personify their creators with their
beautiful eyelet flowers and scalloped borders. To blend these two cultures, one doily has been printed with an Indian wood block and
embroidered with bright colours, the lotus flower motif representing Lakshmi, the Hindu mother goddess of fertility. The other two
have been joined, to represent fertility more literally. Instead of paying homage to a creator through their work, they are now
celebrated as the true creators of life and art.
Anne Fetterly
Mechanical Paintbrush: Stitched in Thread, 2008
33 x 31 cm
Cotton canvas, lace, thread, machine and hand stitching
My household linen was a piece of machine made, synthetic lace. My research project was on the sewing machine and its use by
contemporary artists as a drawing tool. Up until the early 1800’s, all embroidery and sewing was done by hand, using a needle and
thread. During the Industrial Revolution the discovery and invention of stitching machines revolutionized domestic and commercial
textile production. From the late 1800’s to present day, the sewing machine has had widespread commercial use. It has also been
used by embroiderers, craftspeople and artists to expand our concept of needle-work into new and exciting directions. In recent
years, we are seeing a new kind of art emerging in which the sewing machine is used in non-traditional ways to express fine art
sensibilities. Wendy Toogood, Alice Kettle and T. Fujimoto are three contemporary artists using the sewing machine as a drawing
tool, to intuitive and creative ends.
Aisling Macken
“AM”: An Embroidered Monogram, 2008
74 cm x 45cm
Cotton and linen embroidery floss on found linen
The embroidered monogram with the letters “A” and “M” has been stitched onto a linen hand towel, with cotton and linen embroidery
floss. All of the embroidery has been done with white, off-white, and grey cotton floss, and natural linen floss. The monogram has
been entirely stitched with the satin stitch, creating a solid area of thread. The use of the satin stitch allows for the image of the
monogram to be the same on the back as it is on the front.
The letters appearing in the monogram are the initials of the artist. The design of the letters was taken from the Dover Publication,
“Victorian Alphabets, Monograms and Names for Needleworkers.” The inspiration for this embroidered monogram came from
traditional monograms and needlework pieces from the Victorian era.
Heather Murray
Lineaments of Lin, 2008
28 cm. x 21 cm. x 2 cm
Cotton, iris leaves, silk, wool, metal button form
Lineaments of Lin, handmade paper jacketed in tansy-dyed silk, references cotton, linen, silk and wool. These are the four most
historically significant natural fibres, which are discussed extensively in FIBR 316. Lineaments is made from the rescued white cotton
table cloth from Dr. Salahub (75 cm x 67 cm), and threads discarded by Wendy Toogood while making the Nakusp Narrative
exhibition.
The table cloth had mitered corners and four variations of perimeter pulled threadwork. It was pulverized in combination with iris
stems and leaves, couching the pulp into 26 cm x 20 cm sheets. The organza was dyed and Toogood’s threads were sandwiched
between the organza layers to make a jacket for the paper, then finished with a felt-covered button.
In particular, I explored linen, a textile made by soaking (retting) flax stems in water to separate the outer bark. Retting is followed
by drying, scutching, heckling, spinning and finally weaving. Origins of the linen production method are lost to history, but in the mind
of this artist, the process is not self-evident. Non woven textiles such as bark cloth and paper seem more logical products of the
retting process. For this reason, I chose to create handmade paper.
Vanessa Riego
The Point Blanket, 2008
19 cm x 11.5cm
Wool, cotton, linen, iron-on transfer
During the fur trade, many items, including axes, firearms and knives, served as standard trading goods offered to the First Nations
Peoples of North America. The most emblematic and prestigious of them all would have to be the Hudson’s Bay point blanket. The
points, indicated by indigo lines, were woven into the side of each blanket. The points, ranging from 1 to 6, indicated the size and
weight of the blankets, increasing by half points.
In response, the creation of a similar blanket was formed, not by weaving but by crocheting the wool. As well, instead of including the
headings (coloured stripes adorning the top and bottom of the blanket) before the felting, each one was embroidered using colorful
cotton floss. Using an HBC label employed during the early 1900’s, the image was transferred using an iron-on transfer to a small
piece of linen. Identical in strength and durability, the modified version of the Hudson's Bay Company point blankets is a tribute to
one of Canada's most historical textile items.
Romy Straathof
Residual Stains, 2008
42 cm x 39 cm
Vintage linen, silk organza, thread, bleach
The well-stocked seventeenth century European linen cupboard signified the status and wealth of the household to which it belonged.
Tablecloths, napkins, hand towels and sheets were all part of the inventory of household linens, and to own enough meant that a
soiled piece may never have to be revealed; a clean piece was always at hand, miraculously restored by the unrecognized work of
the laundress.
Using the vocabulary of the physical labor of laundry, and the implied virtues that this labor nourishes, Residual Stains addresses the
erasure of human experience and the omission of acknowledgement of both the stains and the efforts to remove them. Events and
experiences are erased many times over in the rituals of the weekly wash; work is made invisible as the resultant object is admired.
Rebecca Taylor
Flowers of the Plains, 2008
94 cm x 60 cm
Embroidery on cloth
This vintage piece of fabric was designed in response to a research paper I wrote on the natural dyes, paints, and designs of the Plain
Indians. While doing the research for the paper, I was drawn to the images of the Aboriginal people, Pre-European in comparison to
Post-European. The changes were dire, showing the tremendous impact of the European influence on the Aboriginal people. The most
noticeable change was in the flowers- before the European influence, they were once depicted very flat and simply. After, they
developed into complex, three dimensional designs with European objects incorporated into them, alongside the traditional Aboriginal
elements.
The opposite corners of the fabric were used to show the change in the design of the flowers. One corner holds the simple, traditional
designs; whereas the other corner holds the more complex, European-influenced designs, allowing the viewer to compare the Pre-
European and Post-European influence of the Plains Indians flower designs.
Jasmine Valentina
Meat Hanky, 2008
15 cm x 15 cm
Embroidery on cotton
The 18th century Victorian era defined needlecraft as an activity intrinsic to femininity. While the notion of embroidery as an
extension of the female body may no longer be entirely relevant today, textiles are still used in reference to women and their parts.
‘Meat purse,’ ‘sausage wallet,’ ‘bacon curtains,’ and the artist’s personal favorite, ‘Meat Hanky,’ are all salacious indications of the
female genitalia. With this piece, a soiled cotton table-runner was transformed into a handkerchief, onto which a plump holiday ham
was embroidered. The embroidery is not perfect. The stitches are gestural and painterly, as opposed to the tight satin stitch
traditionally used in silk shading. The word ‘ham’ is almost elegant, but exudes poor penmanship. As a whole, the handkerchief is
stained, torn, loosely threaded, and used. It is not an object that one would want to hold close to his/her face.
Similar to the way in which the Suffragettes used embroidery to re-contextualize femininity as a symbol of strength instead of
weakness, textiles are used to question womanhood and the standards of femininity. If a woman no longer portrays a pure perfect
virgin, is she considered less feminine? Does she still have a purpose?
Michael Yung
An Apple A Day, 2008
20 x 20 cm
Screenprint on linen
While studying the meaning of why and how we use pattern, I was inspired to create this hand drawn apple motif. While making this
motif I found it interesting that I was able to create the entire design digitally – even the sketched apple. I feel that the relation to a
digitally created design printed onto recycled linen fabric illustrates that even though we continue to make such technological
advances, we still need to remember and utilize objects and methods of past.
Sampler, 2008
61 cm x 39 cm
Cotton thread on found linen
Sampler embroideries were initially rooted in girl’s schooling, and as reference tools for recreating motifs and complex borders for
the embroiderer, hence being called a cross-stitch sampler. There are no motifs in this sampler, only crudely stitched text, a
rudimentary alphabet and numbers in plain coloured thread; teaching only simple lessons, practical text embroidery and utilitarian
aesthetics.
The phrase refers to lessons young embroiderers were instructed to stitch onto sampler embroidery – religious passages, symbolic
phrases, and mantras. “HOPE FOR THE BEST PLAN FOR THE WORST” is a multi-purpose mantra; referring to embroidery itself in
hope that the labor applied to handwork will be satisfying and fruitful. This references domestic work as a whole in the same realm as
a woman’s work is never done. This is a realistic statement made into a pleasantry through the context of hand embroidery.
Jennifer Akkermans
Full Circle (Laptop Case), 2008
30 cm x 38 cm x 5 cm, with a 106 cm strap.
Recycled materials, dyed and printed
Few technologies reinvent themselves the same way as the Jacquard loom/ computer technology has. The punch card, which led to
the development of the original Jacquard loom also played an essential part in the development of the computer. Computers are now
able to design complex weaving patterns, forming images of threads, which were too complex to be done earlier. The computer has
reinvented weaving. Full Circle is a ‘recycling’ response to the evolution of the computerized loom. Originally an old bedspread, the
material has been remade into a laptop case. The woven material speaks of the ancient technology of the loom, the punch card
image speaks of its own application and innovation, and the laptop speaks of the technology of today.
Julie Baratta
Copy… Paste…. Print…. Repeat, 2008
9 cm x 23cm
Digital print on photo paper (left), digital print on linen (right), antique frames
Copy… Paste…. Print…. Repeat plays on the notion of reproduction in the digital age. Twice removed from its original form as a
beautifully hand embroidered, this linen towel has become a victim of the scanner and digital printer, not to mention a victim of digital
image manipulation.
The original hand towel’s monogram and crochet border was scanned and manipulated with the help of Photoshop. Then, the image
was printed back onto the original piece of cloth. Further removing it from its original context, the printed cloth was then
photographed and the image printed again, this time onto a piece of photographic paper. Presented as a framed diptych, the pair of
reproduced images subtly compete for authenticity.
British design historian, Peter Dormer, in his essay, “Craft and the Turing Test for Practical Thinking,” discusses the idea that
machines have begun producing objects that mimic handicraft. He proposes that computerized production possesses the ability to
“defeat the connoisseur” when it comes to differentiating between products of the hand and products of the computer, suggesting that
in some fields, “especially textiles, the differences are becoming harder to distinguish.” (144)
Deciphering the textile from the photograph in Copy… Paste…. Print…. Repeat becomes a challenge for the viewer. This once
personal handcrafted object presents the ease, convenience, and achievable visual trickery of digital reproduction.
Mary Anne Clarke
The Creators, (20th to 21st century), 2008
20cm x 18cm
Hand embroidery and wood block print on cotton
These three 20th century Canadian doilies vary in quality to suggest a mother teaching her daughters to embroider, as was
traditionally part of a girl’s education. In India this was, and still is, the tradition. Devotion to their gods, fertility, love and beauty in
the everyday are strong themes and can be read through the use of motifs and colors. Similarly, western girls and women
embroidered out of a sense of piety, duty and love for their families. These pure white doilies personify their creators with their
beautiful eyelet flowers and scalloped borders. To blend these two cultures, one doily has been printed with an Indian wood block and
embroidered with bright colours, the lotus flower motif representing Lakshmi, the Hindu mother goddess of fertility. The other two
have been joined, to represent fertility more literally. Instead of paying homage to a creator through their work, they are now
celebrated as the true creators of life and art.
Anne Fetterly
Mechanical Paintbrush: Stitched in Thread, 2008
33 x 31 cm
Cotton canvas, lace, thread, machine and hand stitching
My household linen was a piece of machine made, synthetic lace. My research project was on the sewing machine and its use by
contemporary artists as a drawing tool. Up until the early 1800’s, all embroidery and sewing was done by hand, using a needle and
thread. During the Industrial Revolution the discovery and invention of stitching machines revolutionized domestic and commercial
textile production. From the late 1800’s to present day, the sewing machine has had widespread commercial use. It has also been
used by embroiderers, craftspeople and artists to expand our concept of needle-work into new and exciting directions. In recent
years, we are seeing a new kind of art emerging in which the sewing machine is used in non-traditional ways to express fine art
sensibilities. Wendy Toogood, Alice Kettle and T. Fujimoto are three contemporary artists using the sewing machine as a drawing
tool, to intuitive and creative ends.
Aisling Macken
“AM”: An Embroidered Monogram, 2008
74 cm x 45cm
Cotton and linen embroidery floss on found linen
The embroidered monogram with the letters “A” and “M” has been stitched onto a linen hand towel, with cotton and linen embroidery
floss. All of the embroidery has been done with white, off-white, and grey cotton floss, and natural linen floss. The monogram has
been entirely stitched with the satin stitch, creating a solid area of thread. The use of the satin stitch allows for the image of the
monogram to be the same on the back as it is on the front.
The letters appearing in the monogram are the initials of the artist. The design of the letters was taken from the Dover Publication,
“Victorian Alphabets, Monograms and Names for Needleworkers.” The inspiration for this embroidered monogram came from
traditional monograms and needlework pieces from the Victorian era.
Heather Murray
Lineaments of Lin, 2008
28 cm. x 21 cm. x 2 cm
Cotton, iris leaves, silk, wool, metal button form
Lineaments of Lin, handmade paper jacketed in tansy-dyed silk, references cotton, linen, silk and wool. These are the four most
historically significant natural fibres, which are discussed extensively in FIBR 316. Lineaments is made from the rescued white cotton
table cloth from Dr. Salahub (75 cm x 67 cm), and threads discarded by Wendy Toogood while making the Nakusp Narrative
exhibition.
The table cloth had mitered corners and four variations of perimeter pulled threadwork. It was pulverized in combination with iris
stems and leaves, couching the pulp into 26 cm x 20 cm sheets. The organza was dyed and Toogood’s threads were sandwiched
between the organza layers to make a jacket for the paper, then finished with a felt-covered button.
In particular, I explored linen, a textile made by soaking (retting) flax stems in water to separate the outer bark. Retting is followed
by drying, scutching, heckling, spinning and finally weaving. Origins of the linen production method are lost to history, but in the mind
of this artist, the process is not self-evident. Non woven textiles such as bark cloth and paper seem more logical products of the
retting process. For this reason, I chose to create handmade paper.
Vanessa Riego
The Point Blanket, 2008
19 cm x 11.5cm
Wool, cotton, linen, iron-on transfer
During the fur trade, many items, including axes, firearms and knives, served as standard trading goods offered to the First Nations
Peoples of North America. The most emblematic and prestigious of them all would have to be the Hudson’s Bay point blanket. The
points, indicated by indigo lines, were woven into the side of each blanket. The points, ranging from 1 to 6, indicated the size and
weight of the blankets, increasing by half points.
In response, the creation of a similar blanket was formed, not by weaving but by crocheting the wool. As well, instead of including the
headings (coloured stripes adorning the top and bottom of the blanket) before the felting, each one was embroidered using colorful
cotton floss. Using an HBC label employed during the early 1900’s, the image was transferred using an iron-on transfer to a small
piece of linen. Identical in strength and durability, the modified version of the Hudson's Bay Company point blankets is a tribute to
one of Canada's most historical textile items.
Romy Straathof
Residual Stains, 2008
42 cm x 39 cm
Vintage linen, silk organza, thread, bleach
The well-stocked seventeenth century European linen cupboard signified the status and wealth of the household to which it belonged.
Tablecloths, napkins, hand towels and sheets were all part of the inventory of household linens, and to own enough meant that a
soiled piece may never have to be revealed; a clean piece was always at hand, miraculously restored by the unrecognized work of
the laundress.
Using the vocabulary of the physical labor of laundry, and the implied virtues that this labor nourishes, Residual Stains addresses the
erasure of human experience and the omission of acknowledgement of both the stains and the efforts to remove them. Events and
experiences are erased many times over in the rituals of the weekly wash; work is made invisible as the resultant object is admired.
Rebecca Taylor
Flowers of the Plains, 2008
94 cm x 60 cm
Embroidery on cloth
This vintage piece of fabric was designed in response to a research paper I wrote on the natural dyes, paints, and designs of the Plain
Indians. While doing the research for the paper, I was drawn to the images of the Aboriginal people, Pre-European in comparison to
Post-European. The changes were dire, showing the tremendous impact of the European influence on the Aboriginal people. The most
noticeable change was in the flowers- before the European influence, they were once depicted very flat and simply. After, they
developed into complex, three dimensional designs with European objects incorporated into them, alongside the traditional Aboriginal
elements.
The opposite corners of the fabric were used to show the change in the design of the flowers. One corner holds the simple, traditional
designs; whereas the other corner holds the more complex, European-influenced designs, allowing the viewer to compare the Pre-
European and Post-European influence of the Plains Indians flower designs.
Jasmine Valentina
Meat Hanky, 2008
15 cm x 15 cm
Embroidery on cotton
The 18th century Victorian era defined needlecraft as an activity intrinsic to femininity. While the notion of embroidery as an
extension of the female body may no longer be entirely relevant today, textiles are still used in reference to women and their parts.
‘Meat purse,’ ‘sausage wallet,’ ‘bacon curtains,’ and the artist’s personal favorite, ‘Meat Hanky,’ are all salacious indications of the
female genitalia. With this piece, a soiled cotton table-runner was transformed into a handkerchief, onto which a plump holiday ham
was embroidered. The embroidery is not perfect. The stitches are gestural and painterly, as opposed to the tight satin stitch
traditionally used in silk shading. The word ‘ham’ is almost elegant, but exudes poor penmanship. As a whole, the handkerchief is
stained, torn, loosely threaded, and used. It is not an object that one would want to hold close to his/her face.
Similar to the way in which the Suffragettes used embroidery to re-contextualize femininity as a symbol of strength instead of
weakness, textiles are used to question womanhood and the standards of femininity. If a woman no longer portrays a pure perfect
virgin, is she considered less feminine? Does she still have a purpose?
Michael Yung
An Apple A Day, 2008
20 x 20 cm
Screenprint on linen
While studying the meaning of why and how we use pattern, I was inspired to create this hand drawn apple motif. While making this
motif I found it interesting that I was able to create the entire design digitally – even the sketched apple. I feel that the relation to a
digitally created design printed onto recycled linen fabric illustrates that even though we continue to make such technological
advances, we still need to remember and utilize objects and methods of past.
