‘Kiss me quick’ lace bobbins

These two lace bobbins both fall into the category that T L Huetson labelled ‘saucy’ inscriptions in his authoritative book on lace and bobbins. One is inscribed Kiss me quick and the other Kiss me quick [my] own true love. There are lots of variations of these sentiments such as Kiss me quick my lovely darling and Kiss me quick and dont be shy. Huetson also records a pair of bobbins inscribed Kiss me in the dark and Love doo it again. He suggests that the owner of the last two may well have blushed over her lace as she read them! The bobbin on the left was probably made by the bobbin maker the Springetts describe as the ‘Blunt end’ man who worked in the middle of the nineteenth century near Bedford. That on the right is most likely the work of Jesse Compton who lived at Deanshanger and was making bobbins in the first half of the nineteenth century. Jesse Compton has an interesting history. He was the son of a Wiltshire farmer and in his early twenties travelled to Lincolnshire, but was arrested for vagrancy and after a public whipping and time in prison he was sent back to Wiltshire. However, he seems to have stopped off in Buckinghamshire where he married and settled down as a labourer, becoming a turner and bobbin maker in later life. He and his wife had six children the oldest of whom also became a bobbin maker.

Chantilly lace

I bought this lovely sample of Chantilly lace in Bruges last year. Chantilly is one of my favourite laces because of its delicate shading and the way it looks when it’s worn against the skin, for example as a veil. Santina Levey notes that the Chantilly lacemakers originally made blonde lace, usually in white or cream thread, but because of changes in fashion they began making black lace in the 1840s using grenadine, a non-shiny silk thread. Chantilly lace uses a light twisted Lille ground for the net, while the motifs in the design are worked in half stitch and outlined in a heavier gimp thread.

Any bobbin lace is time consuming to make, and Chantilly is no exception. For larger pieces such as veils and shawls, which were fashionable in the mid to late nineteenth century, several lacemakers worked strips of the lace that were later joined together using invisible stitching called point de raccroc. Unfortunately this line of sewing is also a weak point that sometimes comes undone showing where the strips of lace were joined (see above). Although my sample is coming apart, I found it interesting to see the way in which the strips had been divided so that the join interfered as little as possible with the main parts of the design.

The Space Between lace catalogue

What a treat – my copy of the catalogue of ‘The Space Between’ handmade lace exhibition, curated by Fiona Harrington for Headford Lace Project, arrived today and I’ve been enjoying browsing through it. I was going to blog about my favourite pieces but I realise that it’s impossible to choose between them so I’ll give you an overview of the exhibition instead. As Elena Kanagy-Loux reminds us in the introduction, lace is a textile defined by its appearance and numerous techniques are used to make it, many of which are found within this exhibition.

As expected, many of the pieces showcasing techniques celebrate Irish laces. Sr Madeleine Cleverly’s chalice cover edged in Headford lace links the past and the present, while Rosie Finnegan Bell’s Carrickmacross lace tree (see above) celebrates the legacy of lacemaking in South Armagh. The heritage of Carrickmacross lace is also the subject of Karen McArdle delicate photobook. The Irish Crochet lace hat exhibited by the Irish Crochet Lace Revival Group beautifully incorporates three types of Irish crochet to display the intricacy of the technique. The fine working of another traditional Irish lace, Borris tape lace, is displayed in Helena McAteer’s round floral d’oyley. Ann Keller describes her bobbin lace fans as Irish Celtic style bobbin lace, which rather than spotlighting one specific type of Irish lace are designed to include Celtic traditions and art within their folds. Of the other lace techniques, Jackie Magnin uses Torchon lace with variations of her own, Olga Ieromina plays with the size and placing of traditional lace, and Tali Berger makes large scale bobbin lace structures using rattan. 

Many of the pieces were made as a response to lockdown during the Covid-19 pandemic. One of these is ‘Le Messenger’ by Elisa Gonzalez made using free bobbin lace techniques inspired by the colours and the view of a garden. Daniela Banatova’s intriguing abstract bobbin lace forms (see above) are inspired by the trees and rock formations she finds on her travels. Also in the exhibition is one of Mary Elizabeth Barron’s Torchon lace river series based on the Logan River, made from threads she has created from clear plastic packaging to highlight the impact of plastic waste on the environment. Moving from the earth to the sky, Ashla Ward’s complex black crochet pieces were inspired by exploring the darkness in the spaces between the stars in the night sky. Kim Lieberman also incorporates images of the sky in her bobbin lace piece, which comes from a series of works inspired by territories. Her images are taken from banknotes around the world and the chaotic (or wild) ground which holds the currency in a flux explores the interdependence of us all. 

Nature on a smaller scale is depicted in Andrea Brewster’s tatted coral forms and Eleanor Parkes’ needle lace insects. Eithne Guilfoyle’s image of red deer shows the versatility of Limerick lace, while Theresa Kelly’s vessels (see above) inspired by tree bark show the contemporary possibilities for Carrickmacross lace. M Merce Rovira and Atena Pou were also inspired by nature, their free bobbin lace sculpture captures the feeling of a soft breeze under an oak tree. Rather than depicting nature, Saidhbhin Gibson interacts with it by, for example, temporarily covering scars on trees and cacti with delicate needle point lace.

 

Moving from embellishments for nature to those for the body. Roisin de Buitlear’s lace engraved glass visor reminds us of veiling. It speaks of fragility and vulnerability and as such it is a tribute to front line workers in the Covid-19 pandemic. Malgorzata Szpila showed two lovely bobbin lace necklaces, one of falling golden leaves (see above), and the other of frozen silver leaves. Angharad Rixon used silver wire worked in free bobbin lace over a stone found on the beach to reflect the passing of time (see below) and Jane Fullman also worked bobbin lace in wire to produce beautiful patterned pendants and flowers. Suzanne Plamping’s delicate circular hanging inspired by reflection also uses metallic threads. In contrast to these smaller pieces, Kara Quinteros used large scale experimental bobbin lace to produce a bodice and skirt using ethically sourced yarns. 

Family ties are celebrated by Rachel McGrath who uses Irish crochet lace and hair to capture an essence of her past. Two artists exhibited self portraits: Eleanor Parkes’ is representational and made from bobbin and needle lace, while Vesna Sprogar’s is pixelated and composed of bobbin lace and tatting. Ester Kiely also uses technology in her bobbin lace installation ‘Port San Aer’ (see below), which translates music into lace, and you can also listen to the tune by using the QR code in the catalogue. 

Mary St. George, who introduced lacemaking to Headford in 1765, is celebrated by Norma Owens in a series of small round sculptures that incorporate symbolic motifs to represent her life and reflect on the male commentators who tried to belittle her work. Other artists dealing with women’s issues include Amy Keefer whose capsaicin crochet collar considers the lack of means of defence for women throughout history, while Camilla Hanney’s ceramic lace gloves suggest excessive femininity and explore the contradictions involved in traditional handmade lace production. Marian Nunez exhibits two metaphorical works that consider the emptiness of life and the ephemerality of beauty, based on Japanese iconography. Ger Henry Hassett’s moving work ‘A black mark’ remembers the souls of the 796 skeletons of babies who died and were buried at the Tuam Mother & Baby Home and the mothers who were scarred by their experiences there (see below). 

As well as these beautiful and thought-provoking pieces, which were exhibited in an art trail in windows throughout Headford, there were two commissioned works of art. Unfortunately these are not illustrated in the catalogue so I haven’t seen them, but the artists are Selma Makela who painted a triptych remembering those who traditionally made lace in Headford and Tarmo Thorstrom who alters the scale of Torchon bobbin lace by making it in linen and jute rope.

 Despite not being able to travel to Headford I have thoroughly enjoyed visiting virtually through the catalogue. As Elena says in her introduction, lace is not a dying art rather we seem to be ‘on the precipice of an exciting revival’. It is encouraging to see contemporary lacemakers exploring new paths as well as celebrating the revival of traditional lace. If you would like to discover more about the Headford lace project or order a catalogue for yourself you’ll find all the information on the website www.headfordlaceproject.ie 

Thomas Lester and Bedfordshire lace

Thomas Lester was a nineteenth century Bedfordshire lace manufacturer who was responsible for some of the most beautiful English lace designs. The image above is taken from a cap piece he designed which is now in the Cecil Higgins Art Gallery, Bedford. He exhibited lace at the Great Exhibition of 1851 in London where he won a prize medal for his ‘improved arrangement of Bedfordshire pillow lace’. This was probably not an original design but an adaptation which showed that he understood the process of lacemaking and had an eye for designing. It is thought that he may have been able to make bobbin lace and his wife was definitely a lacemaker. In the 1850s there was a move away from the traditional point ground lace in Bedfordshire to the plaited laces which subsequently made Lester famous.

This image shows pages from Lester’s exercise book of designs in the Cecil Higgins collection. He was designing point ground lace in the early 1850s but after visiting the Great Exhibition, and in particular seeing that Honiton lace was not only a more free style of design but also was held in higher regard and fetched a higher price, he began designing Bedfordshire lace in a freer style using plaits to join the elements rather than grounds, which he used as filling stitches instead.

The designs often feature realistic plant forms and animals and the source of these may have been books of natural history, illustrated periodicals or Owen Jones’ The Grammar of Ornament which was used as a teaching aid at art schools. Such realistic natural designs were popular at the time and feature for example in Honiton and Brussels lace as well as other textiles. In the 1862 International Exhibition Thomas Lester was awarded a medal for his new type of lace, which he called ‘Bedfordshire white fancy lace’. He died in 1867 but the Lester family continued their lace manufacturing business in Bedford until 1905 and won medals in several exhibitions including the one in Chicago in 1893. However, the success of machine lace reduced their business considerably, particularly following the 1860s when the Levers lace machine became capable of producing imitation Bedfordshire (Maltese) lace, and they diversified into art needlework and Berlin work as well as continuing to sell ‘real lace’.

‘Frayed nerves’ needle lace

Walking the dog today and looking at the bare branches of the trees reminded me of this piece of lace I made a while ago. Based on nerves rather than branches it still reminds me of this bare, raw season of the year and the feeling of wind and rain tearing everything off the trees, leaving things exposed and vulnerable. It also seemed quite apposite to a time of lockdown and isolation. It’s made of needle lace cordonets and I kept the frayed ends to embed into silk paper and also to reference the title of the piece. As you can tell I’m not an autumn person but I am trying to tune in to the beauty of the season by reading the anthology on Autumn compiled by Melissa Harrison and it is changing my view. I’d always thought of autumn as just a wet cold time we had to get through in the run up to Christmas and then look forward to the spring but Melissa has shown me that it can also be a time of renewal and beauty.

‘For better; for worse’ Amy Atkin lace mats

I’ve had a busy week writing about my response to the life and work of the first Nottingham machine lace designer, Amy Atkin, who although very successful had to give up work on marriage. The idea for using lace mats came from the work of the second wave feminist Judy Chicago who used place settings for famous women in her monumental installation ‘The Dinner Party’. She used complete place settings for her guests but I’ve just made place mats for Amy Atkin. Each one includes a strip of lace inspired by her lace designs, but only tacked in place, to show how easily women’s careers can be taken away from them and that domestic duties still have a huge influence on women’s lives. Each one also has part of the wording from the marriage service embroidered on it ‘for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer’ to reference the fact that she had to give up work when she married. Studying Amy Atkin’s life and lace designs, feminism, and the work of Judy Chicago has been interesting and making a practice based response seemed the appropriate approach to the research so writing about it is a great way to pull all those strands together.

Lace making in Bobowa, southern Poland

 

I’m delighted to let you know that I’ve just had a review published in the journal of Craft Research volume 11 (2) about a book on Polish lace makers. The book is by Anna Sznajder and is called ‘Polish lace makers: gender, heritage and identity’. The link to the current issue and my review is CRRE 11.2 but I’m afraid there are no free offprints with this journal. The book was based on research the author did for her PhD in the lacemaking community in Bobowa, southern Poland, and although it is obviously an academic and thoroughly researched book it is also very readable. It describes how lacemaking was brought to the area in the late eighteenth century and became a cottage industry in the nineteenth century. Throughout the twentieth century various organisations encouraged lace teaching and design but by the end of the century lace making was more of a hobby than a business. However, since 1995 lace making in Bobowa has been revitalised following the introduction of the International Bobbin Lace Festival and the setting up of the Gallery of Bobbin Lace in the town. The author makes lace and clearly has an interest in the lives of these Polish lacemakers. She is interested in the politics, both national and local, that have affected lace making and her interviews with lacemakers allow insight into the changing details of the local lace making industry and women’s role within it. She concludes the book with suggestions on how activities linked to the lace heritage could encourage more tourism to the area. It’s an interesting book, and well worth reading especially if you have been or are planning a visit, to the Bobowa lace festival..