Showing posts with label textile art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label textile art. Show all posts

Friday, March 1, 2019

Reflections on a Chinese Sewing Basket (an Interlude post)

Lid of a Chinese Sewing Basket -
live scans/digital - 2019, DS
(Click to enlarge.)

"Collected baskets have survived for decades, some for a century or more, each one having a diverse history. Countless baskets no longer belong to their original owners... Put simply, the old Chinese sewing baskets have traveled and experienced long, varied and in most cases, tough roads throughout the years."

- From the definitive book: Chinese sewing baskets by Betty-Lou Mukerji.

"Gu embroidery is rather a family style than a local style originated from Gu Mingshi's family during the Ming Dynasty in Shanghai. Gu embroidery is also named Lu Xiang Yuan embroidery after the place where the Gu family lived. Gu embroidery is different from other styles as it specialized in painting and calligraphy. The inventor of Gu embroidery was a concubine of Gu Mingshi's first son, Gu Huihai. Later, Han Ximeng, the wife of the second grandson of Gu Mingshi developed the skill and was reputed as "Needle Saint" (针圣). Some of her masterpieces are kept in the Forbidden City. Today Gu embroidery has become a special local product in Shanghai."

- Quote and photograph (inset left) via the Wiki entry for Chinese Embroidery.  (Feminist alert! Note that the woman who invented Gu embroidery - a concubine - remains anonymous.)

"By the T'ang Dynasty, considered the Golden Age of China, thousands of women were employed as seamstresses and embroideresses, and Chang An, then capitol of China, became a trade center for woven and embroidered textiles. By the Song Dynasty, embroidery embellished parasols, fans and shoes, as well as household items such as screens and bed coverlets were being produced. The Ming Dynasty saw the development of the ranking badges, worn on the front and back of robes by military and civilian officials and by their wives. Many of the Imperial Dragon Robes that you see in museums also date from the late Ming Dynasty."

- Excerpt from an article about Chinese textiles found here.

"My new wife is clever at embroidering silk;
My old wife was good at plain sewing.
Of silk embroidery one can do an inch a day;
Of plain sewing, more than five feet.
Putting her silks by the side of your sewing,
I see now that the new will not compare with the old."

- Dialogue between a man and his "old" wife from the poem "Old and New" by an anonymous Chinese poet, 1st century BC. Source: A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems compiled by Juyi Bai, 1919. (Feminist alert #2: Interesting set of cultural stereotypes here: the "frivolously" artistic New Wife, the industriously productive Old Wife and the man who chooses quantity and economy over beauty!)

"After the initial awe, I felt like one of the blind men on the bridge in the classic Zen drawing -- I had no idea where I was going or how to arrive.  Despite these challenges, the intention to affirm my aspiration to practice persisted. As the teacher led me across the  bridge, stitch-by-stitch, I watched myself reflected in the sewing.

Continuing to practice and learn, I noticed that sewing and wearing Buddha's Robe  deepened my understanding... Buddha's Robe began to express for me the essence of compassionate bodhisattva practice.  First came the effort of offering stitches without thought of gaining anything -- even finishing.  Then, in treating the robe with gentle respect as if we were  one, not two, the robe became tangibly steeped in the caring stillness and openness cultivated by practice..."

- Drawing parallels between Zen and sewing; specifically the practice of sewing a replica of
Buddha's RobeInset right (above) is an antique Chinese table apron. Below (inset left) is another. Both were sourced here.

***

It's been spring-like in New Mexico for the past three days... which - if nothing else - informs me that winter's on its way out and it's time for a change. Oh yeah, and it feels really nice, too... puts a little "spring" into your step... makes you think like: "Hey, maybe things aren't so bad, after all."

And maybe they're not.

Then again, I haven't posted an Interlude in some time and this blog is due for one.  You know, the slice-of-life kind of thing. For the (virtual) record, the last "slice" I blogged about was in January of last year... when I was still living in my car, photographing Sandia Crest. (See here and here.) Despite how harrowing the word "homeless" sounds, the situation was not unbearable. I was surviving; I had a self-appointed mission. And, the winter was unusually mild.

Which was okay... till my car was broken into one night (as I slept in a motel) and my camera was stolen. Although I did trying utilizing my phone's camera, the truth was the magic was gone and my mission over.

Cutting to the chase - and I always do - shortly thereafter I was to come across the star of this post: a Chinese Sewing Basket I picked up in a thrift store for one dollar and fifty cents ($1.50 USD). Apparently, those who sold it placed no great value on it. This is commonly referred to as "Buyer's Luck"; in this case, mine.

Every old artifact has a story, wouldn't you say? I can't help but wonder what this basket's was. But, I think I know. It's kind of like when two vagabonds meet or two wild entities cross each other's path. While actual words might never be spoken, a certain recognition, an insight exists. If boundaries are respected, sometimes the strangers fall in together... like this basket and I. Although technically without a home, we share an indoor space together at night. And, maybe even something more: some encoded shreds of cellular-history or a narrative... or a sub-cellular impression of movement and color.

Or, whatever dreams are made of. (Perhaps, nothing, nothing at all.)

Inset right (above) is an example of antique Chinese embroidery sourced from this site. Directly inset left is another lovely piece found here. More about Chinese embroidery can be found here. There are also Chinese Minority textiles, and an interesting, somewhat-related article here.

BTW, I sometimes have some newly-acquired quality time with my computer these days, and have begun to really work again. The image of the Chinese Sewing Basket lid was my first image this year... and, is basically a manipulation of several "live scans." Well, it's a start... just in time for the first month of the Chinese New Year.

***

Addition (April 15, 2019)

Joy - digital - 2019, DS


Well, the news around the world is sad today. Tears came to my eyes when I read about the fire at the cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris. (See the BBC report). Oddly enough, I had only learned last year that the Hunchback of Notre Dame was Victor Hugo's literary attempt to prevent the demolition of Notre Dame during the 19th century (see this blogpost). But, meanwhile, I just finished a reworking of the Chinese Sewing Basket - the last of my detours - and I was in a dead heat to put it up.

Which is not say I didn't like my original graphic... (nor is this to say I didn't keep the original file). It has a mandala-like effect that (I swear) informed a series of my dreams, embellishing them with delicate, Asian-like symbols.

But, the basket lid seemed lonely... so, I gave it an audience... a trio of brass frogs! (See The Significance of Frogs in Chinese Culture.)

Incidentally, the Chinese characters on the tag translate into the word "Joy"... something the world can never have enough of.



Wednesday, July 22, 2015

In the Company of Green Women (IV): Of Lost Creatures & Forgotten Tales (The Textile Artists)


À mon seul désir - one of six in the series of tapestries entitled: The Lady and The Unicorn - Flanders, 1500s - currently housed in the Musée de Cluny - National Museum of the Middle Ages, Paris, France.

"In the nineteenth century Prosper Merimé the French Inspector of Historic Monuments drew the attention of authorities to the beauty and importance of the tapestries after finding them hanging on damp walls in the rat ridden decaying Château Boussac in 1835. They were still there in 1844 when the renowned author of her day George Sand mentioned them in her novel Jeanne. She endeavoured to use her celebrity status to have them removed to safety, but to no avail.They were still there in 1853 when Baron Aucapitaine drew the attention of Edmond du Sommerard, the Curator of the Cluny Museum at Paris to them and he subsequently negotiated long and hard to secure them.Two important details still elude researchers; the personality of the artist who designed the tapestries for Jean le Viste and the place where they were woven."

- Carolyn McDowall, from The Lady and The Unicorn and ‘Millefleurs’ Style Tapestries.


The Unicorn is Found - one of a series of seven tapestries entitled: The Hunt of the Unicorn - 1490-1505, Brussels - currently housed in The Cloisters, NYC, New York.


"I was so excited to see the tapestries, I think I almost cried.  They are so amazing and the colors are still so vivid.  The tapestries are believed to have been created in the Netherlands, between 1495 and 1515.  The first known record of their existence is from 1680 when they were part of the inventory of the belongings of a French Duke...

...During the Revolution, populist mobs looted the chateau and took the tapestries where they remained out of sight for several generations. It was rumored that they were used to cover espaliered trees and protect potatoes. In the early 1850’s a peasant’s wife came forward with news of some “old curtains” that were covering vegetables in the barn. Can you imagine? It’s amazing that they have managed to retain their pretty, bright colors."

- Thimbleanna, from The Unicorn Tapestries

Salone dei Mesi (Month of March) - Francesco del Cossa - 1470

"The most famous remaining medieval tapestry cartoons were the ones painted by Raphael for "The Acts of the Apostles", a series of tapestries commissioned from a Brussels tapestry shop by Pope Leo X in 1515 for the lower level of Rome's Sistine Chapel. We remember Raphael's name... he's a very famous artist. No one remembers the names of those countless Belgian weavers."

-  Found on this Unicorn page.


"Today it is said that the unicorn never existed. However, it is marvelously clear that when the unicorn was first described and centuries later when the tapestries were woven, everyone believed in unicorns."

- From Marianna Mayer, The Unicorn and the Lake.

***

Whenever a medieval or Renaissance work of art is found hosting a colony of mold, plugging up a fireplace, or "protectively" wrapping a bin of potatoes, it almost goes without saying that it must have been "women's work" (the art, that is). At least, that's the impression I got as I vainly pursued and attempted to identify medieval women artists and artisans. It seems to have been a trend... and, one we'll revisit, when we've arrive at the topic of Renaissance paintings (note: despite my best efforts, this will not be achieved in the present post).

Which is why I believe the two sets of Unicorn tapestries (examples shown above; also below the jump) - most especially "The Lady and the Unicorn" - were most likely the work of women. This is not to say that men were not involved in the production of textiles in the late Middle Ages. They most certainly were. Weavers were often members of all-male guilds, because - apart from the work emerging from convents and monasteries - women were supposedly banned from the loom. By the late 1400s and early 1500s, however, when the Unicorn tapestries were created, the situation had reversed, and female weavers began to predominate; especially in the Low Countries, where the Unicorn tapestries - both sets - originated.

Moreover, both the "Lady and the Unicorn" tapestries, and those comprising "The Hunt of the Unicorn," employed the Millefleur(s) - thousand flowers - technique; a style which (I'd hazard to guess) even the most genteel of men would find hard to swallow, let alone spend countless hours over its execution. I think, too, that it's significant that the French feminist writer, George Sand (French Wiki link) , made a point of championing "The Lady's" recovery (from the no-longer-rat-infested Château Boussac). She sensed there was something "curious" about them.*

But, when both sets of tapestries were finally "saved," it didn't take art historians long to realize that the textiles were artistic masterpieces. As it presently stands, the Unicorn tapestries (of both groups) are officially considered to be the most outstanding examples of medieval art and craftsmanship the world possesses...