Samples from Sharon H and Lauren S arrived today.

Tricia’s writing tonight:

You may have seen some of our earlier hand-wringing over the linen and if it would get here in time for the first session. Well, we managed to get a piece that was 1.9 yards long while we were waiting for our original order of 7 yards. We had been really worried that in the transfer of such a large and complicated pattern, we would make many mistakes. This process of cutting the fabric for tracing became an enormous word problem. It went something like this:If you have 1.9 yards of fabric of one dye lot that matches no other fabric, how big can you cut the pieces to fit the only 11 slate frames located on earth (insert 22 sets of frame piece sizes here)? Note that there are 16 pattern pieces to fit in the frames and each has some random grain direction you must follow. But be sure to end up with some leftover pieces big enough to use if you screw up the inking. Now what time did the train reach the station? Please state the answer in millimeters.

Well, the answer wasn’t obvious. Finally, I cut up pieces of freezer paper to the estimated sizes needed to fit the pattern pieces in the frames. Laid out on the fabric, I was able to nest them to optimize the fabric cut. Phew. I could mess up the transfer on three large pieces and still have fabric of the right dye lot to make a new transfer.

The cutting of the linen proceeded and the freezer paper had an unintended use. I realized that when I ink quilt fabric for autographs, I always iron freezer paper to the back to keep the fabric nice and stiff for inking. So that should work with the linen too! It was the best idea ever for the pattern transfer! If you have ever tried to transfer a pattern to linen before, you will know that the pencil, wax, or ink nib always makes the linen shift. By applying it to freezer paper, the pattern could still be seen through but it was almost like writing on paper.

Since I don’t have a light table that is as big as the pattern pieces, I improvised one. I had a piece of clear Plexiglas cut to 24″ x 36″ and laid it over my existing light box. This allowed me to tape the pattern onto it and then the linen-freezer paper on top of that. The entire piece of linen was taped down around the edges. When I needed light near the ends, I shifted the Plexiglas over the light.

Tracing proceeded using an archival Pigma Pen in black with a 0.01 nib. It took forever. About 16 hours total. But amazingly – no mistake – but lots of hand cramps.

Tricia

Tricia continues the story of how the embroidery pattern was transferred to the pattern pieces and the decisions that needed to be made along the way.

As we talked about previously in the blog, we decided to add a matching coif and forehead cloth to this mad project. Since we didn’t have a piece to use as a model, we used the pattern for one that Plimoth has made many times. (Jill here. We chose one of our several coif patterns, different sizes and slightly different shapes, all copied from original 17^th-century coifs.) Then the question was how to orient the pattern. After examining many pictures of historical coifs, I noted that the majority of them do not have any symmetrical patterns. They all seem to cut a pattern out of the master without regard for left or right. From our ‘dead bird’ episode, you will know that I was too wrapped up in symmetry to note which side was up or down on the coif and got going the wrong way and seemed to kill a few birdies in the process. After we discovered my mistake (which was immortalized in a nasty photo of me on-line), we wondered if any care was made to line up the pattern on the seam line that goes atop the head. Our conclusion from viewing photos was that there wasn’t a great deal of fussiness going on in the 17th century, so we barreled ahead with live birds a second time.

For the forehead cloth, a similar viewing of historical photos revealed a similar disregard for symmetry. But the 90 degree point of the cloth was the ‘up’ on the pattern.

Tricia

AUGUST DATES: There’s been a little confusion about the dates of the August embroidery bee. We’ll be meeting and embroidering for three days, WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 8, THURSDAY, AUGUST 9, AND FRIDAY, AUGUST 10. On the questionnaire that went out with the sample kits there’s a typo which I will not reproduce here lest I cause more confusion. These are the right dates. See you in Plymouth.

Tricia describes the process of adapting the embroidery pattern for the cuffs, collar, and wings, (which are absent from the jacket whose embroidery pattern we’re using):

The jacket pattern that we are working with has a collar, cuffs, and the little wings that come from the shoulders. When it came time to transfer the pattern to these pieces, we had to do a little research. The jacket we are adapting does not have these details, so how do we choose? For the collar, we looked at several examples to see if the collar had a mirrored pattern or was cut out from the repeat. The second question to answer was if the design was right side up or upside down when viewed from the back. [Jill here. The collar is a small semi-circular piece of cloth, on the left in the first picture. It is sewn to the center back neckline. The collar hangs down the back, with the embroidered side up. The side that touches the back of the jacket is unworked.] On the ones we looked at, the collar is cut from the repeat such that the curve of a coil fit in the center rounded part of the collar. This means it is viewed upside down when installed in the jacket. The jackets we viewed also showed that the pattern on the collar matched almost exactly the pattern on the part of the back of the jacket which was covered by the collar. So we followed this guidance.

For the wings (the second picture), the examples showed that the design was just cut in the same orientation as the front of the jacket, and the pattern was right side up when viewed from the front. For the cuffs (the two shapes on the right in the first photo), we had a great picture of a cuff laid out before the MET jacket was mounted years ago. It showed that a modification had been made to the design to put a carnation at the center middle, pointing to the free end of the cuff. Then two coils emanated from the bottom of the carnation, each holding a different motif – but mirrored. We tried to follow this lead the first time we drafted the pattern, but the cuffs for the Laton jacket are not as deep as those on the MET jacket, therefore this scheme didn’t work out. Instead, we put a pink motif in the center and cut the design with the edge of the pattern.

(The third picture is two of the five gussets.)

For the gussets, we followed the V&A jacket and used the area of the design that has thistles on it for each of the five gussets.

Tricia

Tricia finishes last night’s story:

While we were transferring the embroidery design to the pattern pieces, we found several exceptions to the master repeat. Sometimes it was a simple change form a rounded wing butterfly to a spiky butterfly, sometimes a bud was replaced by a leaf. There are two big changes. For some reason, on the arms the bird no longer sits on the borage coil but sits on the honeysuckle coil. This meant that the honeysuckle bud is eliminated and the borage has a butterfly in the coil. Both flowers appear on the wide part of the upper arm so we can’t quite decide why the bird was moved by the original pattern drafter. And this change is mirrored on each arm.

A second much more subtle change may have been a mistake. A bud was replaced by a folded pansy on the jacket in only one spot. This motif shows up multiple times on the panel that is owned by the Embroiderers’ Guild (see page 9 of Raised Embroidery by Barbara and Roy Hirst for a picture of the full panel). I am not going to tell you where this folded pansy appears on the jacket – you’ll just have to visit to see it! We plan on making this a game when the jacket is displayed – a “Where’s Waldo?” sort of treasure hunt.

Because of the minor changes we had noted, once our tracings were done, we had to go over each pattern piece and compare it to the jacket. What a time-consuming process. Every tendril, bud, and leaf was checked to try for the most accurate pattern we could get. From that process we were able to note some of the inconsistencies mentioned above.

Tricia

Here I am again. Tricia uses the editorial “we” too – in this case she really did all the checking and double-checking, in the process probably becoming more familiar with this embroidery pattern than anyone since the original designer.

…opened with a flurry of getting settled, again. Thursday night we brought everything up to the Wardrobe Department work room, but didn’t set up. Friday morning everyone found a table, chair and frame stand to suit and we ran extension cords and power strips again. A few stitchers found the overhead daylight fluorescent lights so bright they didn’t need a task lamp.

We weren’t able to accommodate every stitcher in the department’s big workroom, so we spilled over into the adjacent large office. That was where we’d planned to set up the snacks and lunch, so the food had to be pushed back to a small alcove. We also set up the invisible barrier which prevents food & coffee-carrying people from crossing through the doorway into the work rooms.

Late morning, everyone walked over to the collections storage area, where Karin Goldstein graciously gave the group a show & tell talk about the sewing-related artifacts in Plimoth Plantation’s originals collection, and displayed the two 17^th-century samplers we have.

Another guest, Joanna, a textiles conservator, had brought a special treat for everyone to see: a 17^th-century stumpwork picture. Some pictures posted here (click on the image for more views).

So where to have lunch? It was a gorgeous clear sunny day, so Laura swept the courtyard and put tablecloths on two picnic tables. I was going to take a picture, but decided to eat first. Just as I sat down (one of the last), a dark cloud blew in. “Hey, it’s getting pretty dark” someone remarked. “Is that rain?” The words were hardly out when a clap of thunder opened the floodgates. We finished lunch standing around in the hallways, squished as far away from the frames as possible. By the time the stitchers were settling down to work again, the sun was breaking through. No picture of happy embroiderers lunching al fresco.

After lunch the stitchers began finishing their work for this session. Tricia’s organized mind has established an amazing record-keeping system. We’ll be able to track and analyze all sorts of data based on the notes the embroiderers are keeping as they work.

One element of the system makes it possible to record exactly which elements are worked by whom. For this, Laura photocopied the master embroidery pattern. Each embroiderer then signs the individual motifs she has worked. The first picture is Pat, carefully matching the worked motif to the pattern (it’s easy to get turned around, with all the swirls). The second picture is Ann (in the background) and Carol sorting out what they stitched on the sleeves. Another part of the plan has two embroiderers with similar hands working on the mirrored pieces, like sleeves and fronts, and switching frames partway through the session to further meld the styles. Ann and Carol were both working on sleeve pieces this week.

We had little thank-you gifts for the embroiderers who participated this time. Everyone received a copy of Plimoth Life, Plimoth Plantation’s magazine. This issue contains an article about the jacket, as well as others on the 50^th anniversary of Mayflower II’sarrival in the US, and Plimoth Plantation’s mission to become a bicultural institution. Thanks to the skilled Kristen, one of the Crafts Center’s potters, we also gave everyone a hand thrown cup. My daughter’s hand is in the picture for scale.

The hard part of this day was the farewells. In only a few days we’d formed a team, a community. Some renewed old friendships, others made new ones. We all enjoyed the company and conversation of others who are passionate about embroidery.

When considering this project and beginning the planning, I knew it would be a huge undertaking, that it would be at times exhausting, that there would be unforeseen difficulties and comparable triumphs. But I never imagined how personally rewarding it would be to meet so many talented people who are so generous with their time and skill. It was a pleasure getting to know the ladies who participated in session one. I’m looking forward to meeting many more of you in the coming months.

See you here tomorrow.

Day One of Session One is history and went very well. I was really more nervous about yesterday, when so much had to be done. Today was just meeting lovely people I’d only corresponded with, or at most talked with on the phone.

Much of the morning was spent in introductions, ground rules (NO COFFEE NEAR THE WORK AREA), and adjusting frames, lights, and magnifiers. Tricia assigned work stations and got everyone started. It seemed like that first stitching was a little nerve-wracking; breaking up the white space with the first bit of colored silk is so irrevocable.

Lunch was delicious, like all the other food. Our meals are being catered by Marcia, a southern cook in the best tradition. We’re eating like princesses. Cheese & tomato tart, abundant salad, fruit, pound cake; if we’re not careful we’ll all have to be rolled out of here in a few days!

A bit of shopping was squeezed in after lunch. Volunteers receive a 10% discount in our museum shops, and a number of special treats including books, scrimshaw needlework tools, and charts, were stocked especially for the delight of the embroiderers. There are more goodies on order that will be in before the August session.

This is the back of the jacket, where Tricia has been stitching one of each motif. As she worked, she took detailed photos of the steps which she used to create instruction manuals for each station.

The only cloud in the day involved what is now called ‘the dead bird coif’. While everyone was working, Tricia began to trace the embroidery pattern onto the paper coif template. This bit is truly fascinating, as it is a glimpse into how these patterns may have been used in the 17^th century. Months ago Tricia had deciphered the ‘master pattern repeat’ of the jacket. She and Denise created a master pattern, several repeats of the pattern both vertically and horizontally which enabled them to then lay the garment pattern pieces over the embroidery pattern and trace.

Tricia had the coif-shaped paper I traced off for her and laid it over the master pattern on a light box. She was about 2/3 done when I peeked over her shoulder. She showed me how she’d moved the paper around to get the most complete repeats in strategic places. “Wow, that’s beautiful. But, umm, the birds are upside down.” The coif shape is odd, and it is really hard to see how it goes together unless you’ve made some (and sometimes even then) or worn them. In order to really see how the pattern would lie when worn, we eventually had to tape it together and put it on. Amid hearty laughter at the silly paper hat, we all agreed that, sadly, the birds were not only upside down, but with their feet in the air like that they looked dead. “It’s a lot faster to trace than embroider” Tricia observed, glad we’d discovered the mistake sooner than later.

Tomorrow I’ll have more pictures of the embroidery.

Here’s Tricia continuing the story:

For the last two entries we have been talking about the sample embroidery we worked and the insights we have gained. Another insight is that of the pattern drafting.

Remember that Denise drafted the sample pattern from the photos and I worked the embroidery. Well, I had difficulties with some of her drafting as just the perimeters of some of the shapes were taken. When examining the photos and trying to apply the same stitch to the piece, I often had to add lines so I had anchor places for my detached stitches. Take a look at the photo. The borage flower can’t be worked as one piece as the direction of the detached buttonhole has to change for each petal. So each petal needed to be drawn separately. Looking at the close-ups of this flower showed that there were ’seam lines’ if you might call them that, which were visible in the flower.Because of this, our original plan to have Denise draft the pattern and trace it to the linen had to change. An embroiderer needed to draft the master pattern to take into account the lines which needed to be added (or subtracted in the case of the butteryfly’s detached wings). Unfortunately, Denise left Plimoth before she was able to transfer the pattern to the linen – so I got to do that too…but more on that in a later blog entry.

When looking at the numerous stumpwork or tent stitch pictures worked by girls and young women, you often see pattern lines that have not been covered. If the girl bought the piece with the transfer and then chose what stitches to use, the draftsman cannot decide what lines to omit or place to aid the stitcher. In the case of the jackets, I don’t recall seeing yet any lines that are uncovered. The exception of course is where a black thread has degraded, but the needle holes are still obvious. I wonder what this says about the relationship between the draftsman and the embroiderer. We do know from primary sources that these two professions could stand alone and were not always one and the same.

As we have been surveying the jackets and coifs with coiling stems, a pattern is starting to emerge about stitch choices for particular motifs. At this point I have seen numerous birds worked in trellis and spiral trellis. Trellis also seems to be the often chosen treatment for a butterfly body. This may have been more general than at first glance and may have been a constant in a particular workshop. If a draftsman was part of the staff, he may have been familiar with the code in the shop and able to transfer a very workable pattern for use. This is just a thought – a conjecture from a limited amount of data and our own observations. A fresh look at pieces in many collections would help to build a case for these and other hypotheses that are being developed as part of this ‘living history’. We put them out there to start to solicit comments from the collective memory of the readers of this blog.

Tricia

Tonight Tricia finishes the story begun in yesterday’s post of how the pattern for the embroidered jacket was drafted. This story is just one example of the many things we’re learning by doing that might not have been discovered just by studying existing examples.

Well, after a long day of trying to come up with the right master pattern, Denise and I called it quits. I took the materials home and was to start again with a fresh vine tracing. As you can see in the photo, I covered the dining room table with pictures and kept staring at the sleeves, front, and back trying to work out what was going on with the piece. All of a sudden I could ’see it’ – a nice 3 x 4 coil block. The repeat leapt out at me and I quickly sketched it out. Then I took the motifs and cut them from our xeroxed tracings. Even though I assumed that I would have to totally redo the vine tracing because we had taken that from the EG panel, I placed the motifs in order on top of it. To my amazement it worked perfectly! I was stunned. Not only did the two historic pieces share many motifs and a very close stitch/color vocabulary – but they seemed to be built on the same coiling stem pattern. This is another piece of circumstantial evidence which leads to a conclusion that these pieces were worked from the same professional workshop.

From the experience, I conjecture that the following MIGHT be how some of these pieces were designed. A master coiling stem pattern would be drawn up by a draftsman on staff and would reside at the company. A set of standard motifs would then be available to choose from to place on this vine depending on the purpose of the intended object or the whim of the customer. That way some customization was available with with very little original design work.Something I had seen before seemed to support this hypothesis and a well timed business trip through Washington, D.C. provided the opportunity to check a rare book again. A very expensive and rare modern reproduction of The Great Book by Thomas Trevilian (1616) resides at the Folger Library in Washington, D.C. I have been viewing this and its original cousin (1608) by the same author for years everytime I am in town. Thomas Trevilian is thought by scholars to have been a draftsman of pattern for the decorative arts – woodworkers and embroiderers primarily. In any case, he certainly had access to many patterns. It seems late in his life he sat down (twice as he didn’t expire too quick)
to record in one place patterns he knew, had in his possession, or invented. We many never know which. He also recorded well know plates from other earlier publications in his manuscripts. Plate no. 947 in The Great Book (1616) is a coiled stem design which resembles closely those used for jackets such as our source and the Laton jacket. The one
thing that had always bothered me about this plate on other visits was that it was incomplete. This was unusual as the other hundred or so plates for embroidery in the books were complete and could easily be traced and repeated. This coiled stem was missing many of the leaves and small bugs that fill the voids.

Well, after the experience of making the master for our jacket, I wonder if the Trevilian plate is closer to what the professional workshop may have used. A master vine with many motifs which could be moved around and a few of the filler leaves/fauna that could be repeated where needed. Just enough to allow the draftsman to customize the pattern for a customer.

I will leave you with those thoughts and a few answers to some questions that were posed in the comments. A reader was interested in if we would publish the pattern on the web for download. The answer is no. We have been very fortunate to have such cooperation from the many institutions which house the historic embroideries, therefore we must respect their ownership of the intellectual property and design. We have been granted a one time use of the pattern at this point. That said, if many write in with such interest, we will explore a royalty relationship with theV&A and might publish the manual we are developing to stitch the jacket complete with the patterns. What I can say now is that Thistle Threads has entered into a contract with the V&A to adapt the jacket pattern into a series of kits using the same materials. These pieces will range from smalls to a larger piece that uses much of the repeat pattern. The kits will come out sometime in the early fall and will help to support both the V&A and Plimoth Plantation with part of the proceeds.This is the same reason why there aren’t any non-public domain historical pictures up yet on the blog. We are negotiating with the institutions for permission to use the photos we took of their collections on the blog. We really hope we will be able to do that in the future. Until then you may need to find a referenced book to see some of these beautiful images.

Tricia