Still meditating on the book 'The Story Book of Rayon' - it's actually by Maud and Miska Petersham (now I have it in front of me).
An amazing little tome, copyright 1939 by the John C. Winston Company, published by Wells Gardner, Darton & Co Ltd of Redhill, Surrey and printed by Lithotone Printing Works, Bournemouth.
Redhill, of course is not that far from Farnham, Surrey where I lived in the 1970s and 80s.
The book's bright little primary-coloured cover has pictures of a spruce tree (woodchips) and a young black man with a basket of cotton bolls on his shoulder. The wood and cotton, blended together and chemically enhanced, make up the new thread, Rayon. And who knows? the book enquires, one day we may even have thread made from petroleum!! There is the spinneret - with threads shooting across the page like rays from a Star Wars weapon and lots fo reels of brightly-coloured rayon - yellow, blue, green and red.
I think I'll use the covers of this book in my final work, with a long concertina-page or artworks telling the story. That's my idea for the moment. It needs refining.
In the meantime - the competition.
It's run by Blarney Books and Art. Check out http://www.blarneybooks.com.au
The 2011 competition closes on April 29 - an auspicious occasion - isn't that the Royal Wedding Day for Wills and Kate?
There is a $1500 first prize, $250 storytellers prize and $250 people's choice.
For my part, I'll have a go at anything that keeps the creative juices jogging along, and a deadline is a wonderful incentive.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Setting out
Biblio Art is what it's called. The competition involves buying a remaindered book from Port Fairy's Blarney Books - a second-hand (or pre-loved) bookshop in the Victorian seaside village; using the book to create an artwork in whatever medium, and submitting it for selection for the exhibition.
I am a writer as well as a tapestry weaver and I love the idea of weaving words and weaving threads, so the idea appealed.
At Blarney Books, I met the owner Jo - a writer - who indicated the wheelbarrow of books.
How do I choose? Do I look at the material of the book - is it strong enough to be woven? Do I look at the size of the book - is there enough book quantity? Do I look for illustrations I could use in a woven design?
So far I had a few ideas for weaving a book, but most were based around using the book's pages as a form of weft, even though I wasn't completely sure it would work. I knew I wanted to feel that the book would somehow be 'absorbed' into my tapestry and not just used as a tool from which I would create a design separate from the book itself.
At one stage I worried that I might even have to change my art practice into collage or painting as it grew more and more difficult to visualise quite how the two - old, brittle, musty paper in an artform that needed its material to be soft and malleable - could be melded successfully together.
In the end, I decided to let the book find me and worry about the methodology later.
I hovered over the wheelbarrow, turning the old cloth-covered hardbacks over to see whether the titles interested me.
One immediately caught my attention. The Short Story of Rayon by Merle and Miska Petersham. Rayon - a fibre, a thread - it resounded well with tapestry weaving. Then I saw a tiny book about Therese of Lisieux, a saint I have always been interested in - a French saint as well, whose name I believe was that selected by my belle-mere as her saint's name at her confirmation. It's also my daughter's second name. It resounded, too.
So I sat for a while with both books in my hand. St Therese said nothing at all to me (maybe she was holding her silence as a way of getting me to explore the other direction) so try as I might, I couldn't visualise anything from her book, while at the same time, my mind kept throwing up different images of the rayon book.
Drawing out literal threads and story threads strongly appealed and already the wheels and cogs in my head were starting to crank up. Reluctantly I returned Therese to the wheelbarrow, bought the slender volume all about rayon and signed up for the competition.
I needed a coffee and a time on my own with the book in my hands.
I am a writer as well as a tapestry weaver and I love the idea of weaving words and weaving threads, so the idea appealed.
At Blarney Books, I met the owner Jo - a writer - who indicated the wheelbarrow of books.
How do I choose? Do I look at the material of the book - is it strong enough to be woven? Do I look at the size of the book - is there enough book quantity? Do I look for illustrations I could use in a woven design?
So far I had a few ideas for weaving a book, but most were based around using the book's pages as a form of weft, even though I wasn't completely sure it would work. I knew I wanted to feel that the book would somehow be 'absorbed' into my tapestry and not just used as a tool from which I would create a design separate from the book itself.
At one stage I worried that I might even have to change my art practice into collage or painting as it grew more and more difficult to visualise quite how the two - old, brittle, musty paper in an artform that needed its material to be soft and malleable - could be melded successfully together.
In the end, I decided to let the book find me and worry about the methodology later.
I hovered over the wheelbarrow, turning the old cloth-covered hardbacks over to see whether the titles interested me.
One immediately caught my attention. The Short Story of Rayon by Merle and Miska Petersham. Rayon - a fibre, a thread - it resounded well with tapestry weaving. Then I saw a tiny book about Therese of Lisieux, a saint I have always been interested in - a French saint as well, whose name I believe was that selected by my belle-mere as her saint's name at her confirmation. It's also my daughter's second name. It resounded, too.
So I sat for a while with both books in my hand. St Therese said nothing at all to me (maybe she was holding her silence as a way of getting me to explore the other direction) so try as I might, I couldn't visualise anything from her book, while at the same time, my mind kept throwing up different images of the rayon book.
Drawing out literal threads and story threads strongly appealed and already the wheels and cogs in my head were starting to crank up. Reluctantly I returned Therese to the wheelbarrow, bought the slender volume all about rayon and signed up for the competition.
I needed a coffee and a time on my own with the book in my hands.
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