In any fiber, craft or design studio, there’s multiple things happening at once. I keep two workspaces, one workspace at home and one at Studio Place Arts in Barre, VT. Having equipment available to me at home means that I can do a little work in the middle of other activities. Put dinner in the oven, weave for a few minutes. Wake up before the household, spin a few hundred yards. The home workspace is typically utilized for work that requires less concentration, can be easily interrupted and is less design-focused. If I did not integrate my materials preparation into the flow of the other parts of the day, it’s unlikely I’d be able to be a productive, working artist. For the purposes of our weaving here, I’m at the spinning step of the process, which is time and labor intensive, but allows my mind to wander to other things. I typically use two methods for making yarn—spinning and spindling.
Using a hand spindle is the oldest form of fiber preparation and I’m fond of top whorl drop spindles, which have weighted tops. The spindle is secured to the fiber via a lead thread, stabilized by the brass hook on top and then the spinner will set the spindle spinning with a flick of the wrist or by rolling it against the inner thigh. Letting it spin midair, gravity stretches the fibers out to the right thickness, while the spinner lets more and more fiber to be spun as the spindle drops. The spinner then catches the spindle, winds the spun yarn around the shaft, sets it in the hook again and continues until the shaft is too heavy or loaded with yarn for the spindle to spin without wobbling around chaotically. Spindles appear across nearly all world cultures and their design and use depends on what kind of fiber is being spun. Wool and linen fibers are relatively longer and are well-suited to drop spindles, cotton relatively short and suited to bottom-whorl and supported ones. If you’d like a deep dive into spindles and how archeologists utilize experiential research methods to learn about historical fiber production, check out Linda Olofsson’s article Spinning in the Past and the Present, which starts on page 114 of Traditional Textile Craft - an Intangible Cultural Heritage? , available for free download as a pdf from the Center for Textile Research at the University of Copenhagen.
Here is a close-up of some Wensleydale wool I’m finishing up. Wensleydale is a long-fibered, silky, low-crimp wool from the UK that spins up with a lovely sheen. Each wool will have its own unique characteristics and often they are blended together to achieve an optimum outcome for a piece of cloth.
Here is a close-up of our Clun Forest wool. You can see that each individual fiber is wavier or kinkier than the texture of the Wensleydale. It also has less lustrous sheen and reflects light differently. This means that, when woven, our Forest Clun will provide an excellent matte background for any design elements woven into the cloth. I’ve finished a few hundred yards of spinning today and am headed out for a short ski. All this spinning means that I’m at risk of too much stooping over and sitting in one place. Regular breaks and regular strength-building exercise are vital elements of being a working craftsperson or artist—particularly because of the risk of repetitive stress injuries or tendonitis. The body is the primary instrument through which all of this flows. If any part of one’s body becomes injured or overly strained due to poor ergonomics or overuse, you won’t be able to work. That said, sun just peeked out, time to get outside!.