For the specific fabrics used in Palette No. 12, please subscribe to CLOTH & KIND’s emails. Details for each textile are provided exclusively to my email friends. Happy Friday!
Spring I
Guest edited by Tami Ramsay.
It’s Spring, well, technically. Marked by the Vernal Equinox on 20 March 2013, relative equal days and nights are upon those of us in the Northern hemisphere, whether your sidewalks are still covered in snow or your native azaleas are in full bloom. Invariably though, I liken Spring to a slow boil, the kind that takes forever when you are pot watching, and only bubbles when you finally walk away to visit the loo. Spring is a bit of a flirt too, teasing you with enough warm and sunny days to ensnare your loyalty, but then like a classic photo bomb, ruins a good thing of tank tops and flip flops with a cold snap that makes you regret that recent seasonal overhaul of your closet.
Alas, though, I am a willing mistress to Spring and hang on to all that it promises, even when I come up jilted and cold. Some of the first early Spring bloomers in my region, known as Zone VIII, are the tulip magnolia, the loropetalum chinense, and the common flowering dogwood. Each of these beauties appeals to me for different reasons but when combined and artfully arranged together, I am overwhelmed by their modern and graphic effect. Pair that with sun streaming through the window, casting its golden glow on buds in bloom, and it’s got to be Spring o’clock somewhere.
The tulip magnolia, also known as the Japanese magnolia, is actually a deciduous shrub, but presents rather as a small to mid-sized tree, that kicks off early Spring with a profusion of large pink to purple provocative flowers, all before shedding them and assuming its role as a common, less than showy and leafy specimen. But when that bloom erupts on that woody stem, its like Heaven and Hades meet, with a splash of love and heat.
Although the white variety of loropetalum has its place in the garden, the pink flowering variety featured above, often referred to as a Chinese fringe flower, is my favorite. When this deciduous shrub is left unattended, sans pruning to a tight hedge, a subsequent leggy-ness prevails which leaves the branches swaying at the mercy of the wind’s movement, and encourages the long eyelash-like petals to flit and float this way and that. The combination of those hot pink strappy petals, along with their lilt and lightness, totally slays me, every time.
Relatively synonymous with Spring and the Southern landscape is any variety of Cornus florida, or the flowering dogwood, and its characteristic petal bearing flowers--a total showstopper in all its glory. Nothing screams new beginnings and beckons warm days more than the budding of millions of tight little fists of dogwood flowers, just trembling with anticipation of busting out of their nubby incubators; but, it is folly to be fooled completely by these blooms. Commonly referred to in the Farmer's Almanac as a Dogwood Winter, a colloquial term used in the American Southeast, farmers knew it wasn’t safe to plant their crops without fear of frost until after these blooms had come and gone. Even still, those tightly packed pink and green tinged flowers make for a very textural and graphic accompaniment to the tulip magnolia and loropetalum below, nestled in a silver compote and finished with black shredded pine mulch.
Whether you are sipping hot cocoa by the fire or drinking ice cold sweet tea in the garden, Spring has sprung. Let the show begin!
IMAGES | Floral styling, arrangements and photography by Tami Ramsay
Madeline Weinrib
what is your idea of perfect design happiness?
COPYRIGHT LAWS THAT PROTECT DESIGNERS
AND NOT BIG BUSINESS.
what is your greatest fear in design?
FEAR CAN LEAD TO BETTER DESIGN.
which historical design figure do you most identify with?
FORTUNY.
which living designer do you most admire?
JACK LENOR LARSEN. I ADMIRE HIM NOT ONLY FOR HIS WORK,
BUT ALSO FOR HIS SUPPORT OF OTHER DESIGNERS.
HIS COLLECTIONS ARE WONDERFUL AS WELL.
what profession other than design would you like to attempt?
COOKING.
what is your greatest design extravagance?
MY STUDIO. IT’S A BIG, LIGHT-FILLED SPACE
AND A PLEASURE TO WORK IN EVERY DAY.
when and where were you happiest with your design?
I’M VERY CRITICAL OF MY OWN WORK.
FROM CONCEPTION TO COMPLETION, THE PROCESS CAN TAKE ONE TO TWO YEARS. IT’S A HAPPY DAY WHEN I FEEL A DESIGN IS FINALLY FINISHED.
what do you consider your greatest achievement in design?
CAN YOU ASK ME THAT AGAIN IN ANOTHER 20 YEARS?
if you died and came back as another designer or design object,
who or what do you think it would be?
IRONICALLY, I WOULD NOT BE A RUG.
I DON’T LIKE TO LET PEOPLE WALK ALL OVER ME.
what specific design related talent are you lacking
that you would you most like to have?
THINKING IN SQUARE FOOTAGE.
what is your most treasured design related possession?
MY FORNASETTI CONSOLE.
I FOUND IT YEARS AGO IN A SECOND HAND SHOP.
what do you regard as the lowest depths of misery in design?
SEEING MY HANDMADE DESIGNS COPIED AND MASS PRODUCED.
what curse word do you most frequently use?
I USE THEM ALL.
what is your favorite design related word?
HARMONY.
what is your least favorite design related word?
KITSCH.
what turns you on in design?
AUTHENTICITY AND ORIGINALITY.
what turns you off in design?
KNOCKOFFS.
what is your motto in design?
KEEP IT SIMPLE.
ABOUT PROUST ON DESIGN // Answered by our design icons, these must-ask questions come from a 19th century parlor game made popular by Marcel Proust, the French novelist, essayist & critic. Proust believed the direct questions and honest responses that they elicited revealed the true nature of the individual. For this column, we have put an interior design related spin on the traditional questions. While this method has been used by many journalists throughout the years, we were primarily inspired by The Proust Questionnaire, which appears monthly on the back page of one of our all time favorite magazines, Vanity Fair (also Krista’s alma mater). Read all of our previous Proust on Design questionnaires here.
IMAGE CREDITS // Lead image of Madeline provided by Madeline Weinrib & taken by photographer Jason Frank Rothenberg, Painting of Moroc wallpaper pattern, Moroc wallpaper, Jack Lenor Larsen photograph, Larsen Retro fabric, Madeline's studio image provided by Madeline Weinrib, Bedroom image provided by Madeline Weinrib & styled by Lili Diallo.
Palette No. 11
For the specific fabrics used in Palette No. 11, please subscribe to CLOTH & KIND’s emails. Details for each textile are provided exclusively to my email friends. Happy Friday!
Provenance: Kasuri
The idea for this Provenance column has been in my mind for a couple of years, yet I've never quite had the wherewithal to make it happen in the substantive way in which I imagined it. For this reason, I am thrilled beyond words to have someone here now who is perfectly suited to pen this column because of her unique background as a design historian and also because of our shared appreciation for a global sense of style that often times comes from the use of age old techniques. Please welcome CLOTH & KIND's newest guest editor, Jacqueline Wein of the wonderful blog Tokyo Jinja. Jacqueline is an antiques dealer, design historian and “trailing spouse” living in Tokyo, Japan with her husband and two beautiful daughters. Tokyo Jinja (jinja means shrine in Japanese) tells the story of her travels throughout Asia and elsewhere looking at decorative and fine arts as well as chronicling her interior design projects. Always able to spot the proverbial needle in a haystack and sort the valuable from the junk, she combs Tokyo flea markets, better known as shrine sales, for treasures each week for clients around the world. Porcelains, textiles, woodblock prints, baskets, vintage fishing floats, and katagami stencils are just some of the finds that come her way. And there is nothing she likes better than imagining and researching an object’s past and finding a modern day use for it. She cut her teeth at the 26th Street flea markets in New York and Les Puces in Paris, and honed her Asian expertise along Hollywood Road in Hong Kong. Jacqueline's incomparable background makes her the most natural guest editor to author this column, which offers a scholarly nod to the history of iconic styles in textile & design. KRISTA
prov-e-nance \ˈpräv-nən(t)s, ˈprä-və-ˌnän(t)s\ noun. the place of origin or earliest known history of something.
Guest edited by Jacqueline Wein.
These days, ikat has become a household word, extending well beyond those in the textile world. Kasuri, on the other hand, is not, although it is the Japanese form of ikat, in which the weft and/or the warp threads are tie and resist dyed before being woven. That simply means that very tight binding threads are wrapped around all the places that are not meant to take the colored dye. Traditionally, kasuri was made from hand spun durable cotton using natural indigo and patterns were white against the blue, created by those areas left uncolored by the binding threads. Like many other indigo cottons, these were everyday fabrics worn by the common people. Aptly so, as indigo is credited with having the ability to strengthen fabric, making it more durable, as well as being able to repel bugs and insects which makes it ideal for the clothes of those working in the fields. Even as late as the early 1970s, most rural workers in Japan were wearing kasuri garments and Amy Katoh, author and owner of the iconic Blue & White store in Tokyo remembers the gardeners around the Imperial Palace wearing it through the 1960s.
Over time, additional pigments and modern designs were added to the mix. Occasionally, I stumble across an unusual two-tone piece that is not blue, like this madder colored one, although these tend to be more recent examples. But most kasuri still has an indigo base, even the modern machine-produced ones.
The complexity of the kasuri technique lies in having to plan where the pattern will go, not just before weaving, but as the thread itself is dyed. The charm of the technique lies in the slight blurring at the edges of the patterns and images, giving the fabric a soft sense of movement. Most ikat is designed with patterns laid out on the warp – the stationary threads on the loom – which is much easier to produce. Kasuri tends to be weft ikat, which allows the weaver more control in varying the piece as they go, but is also harder to plan and create. The paler wispy white areas in these examples are woven that way. Solid white areas in kasuri are actually double ikat, meaning they have patterns placed across both the warp and the weft, which is very technically demanding. Interestingly, while there is a tradition of ikat in almost all world cultures, only three countries - Japan, India and Indonesia - produce double ikat. Kurume kasuri, as shown below, is a regional geometric form that highlights this double ikat very well.
The areas of single and double kasuri are also easily distinguished from each other in the traditional length of fabric sourced by designer Maja Lithander Smith and I in Kyoto, which she had made into this beautiful bolster pillow. And I love the textile play with the more common Uzbek-style ikat on the pillow behind and the Japanese classic asa-no-ho (hemp pattern) on the vintage geisha pillow on the side table shelf.
Much kasuri is comprised of small repetitive geometric shapes, but it is also possible to create images and scenes with the technique. Pictorial kasuri is referred to as e-gasuri and the variety of patterns is endless - from literal patterns like this butterfly, to allegorical ones like this thunderstorm dragon pattern. Debate rages about where from and when ikat techniques were introduced to Japan, and some even believe it was invented independently at the end of the 18th century, but either way, this distinctive e-gasuri is Japan's own.
Kasuri is width limited by the narrow loom size prevalent here, being approximately 12-14 inches wide. Weaving was and is devoted to making kimono and other garments, which are constructed of vertical strips of cloth sewn together. A single tan, or bolt of cloth measures approximately 9-11 meters long as that is what is needed to construct a kimono. While it’s not unusual to visit antique markets and shrine sales in Japan with their racks of vintage kimono, it’s less common to come across great varieties of old kasuri ones, although I occasionally do. It’s eminently possible to take a kimono apart and re-use the fabric for other projects. Small vintage pieces perfect for modern day uses as pillows, table runners and accent fabrics are often found this way.
Larger items such as futon covers and furoshiki (wrapping cloths) were made by sewing strips of kasuri together. This early futon cover is made from hand-spun cotton and features both a realistic camelia and a stylized floral diamond called a hana bishi. It has aged and faded over time, adding to its charm and now displays beautifully as a throw over the back of a sofa.
Modern developments in weaving after WWII meant that yarn was no longer necessarily handspun and much of the dyeing process changed. Different kasuri stencil techniques emerged wherein the fabric was loosely woven first, stenciled with color and pattern, only to be tightly rewoven again. This sped up production and allowed for additional complexity in designs. Foreign influences and more varied coloration became common. Today, the word kasuri is often thrown around incorrectly referring to other kinds of Japanese textiles that use an ikat-like technique such as Meisen, Omeshi and Tsumugi silks, which were extremely popular from the art deco era through the post-war period. Their designs were the height of modernity at the time, and still feel extremely fresh today.
I am always hunting for vintage kasuri in good condition. If you are seeking Japanese textiles, including kasuri, shibori, katazome, tsutsugaki, silks, patchwork boro or anything else interesting please don't hesitate to reach out to me at jacquelinewein(at)yahoo(dot)com. And if you have any examples of kasuri in your home, please do share with us at info(at)clothandkind(dot)com.
Kelly Beall
ABOUT | Kelly Beall is a freelance graphic designer and author of Design Crush.
My favorite textile isn't exactly a traditional one, rather it's a set of handkerchiefs from my grandmother. As a young kid I was lucky enough – and so were my parents! – to have my paternal grandparents look after me Monday through Friday, breakfast through dinner. This included but was not limited to: making sure I didn't run into traffic, keeping me occupied in my Grandma's ceramic studio with discarded clay scraps, and carting me back and forth from Montessori pre-school.
Every day before my Grandpa drove me the few miles to school my Grandma would tuck a tiny handkerchief in my pocket. I've always had a notoriously runny nose, and I think this was her last ditch effort at me not wiping my face on the kid next to me. Each handkerchief was tiny, pretty, and perfectly Kelly-sized. I remember that they smelled like her dresser drawer and comfort, who knows how many I must have lost along the way, dropped in hallways and parking lots.
I can't remember when it happened, but somewhere between graduating from high school and turning 30 the handkerchiefs became mine. I don't even think my Grandma ever used them herself, so they had always been mine really. But now they were in my possession and I had no idea what to do with them, so into a dresser drawer of my own they went.
A few weeks ago I was combing through my things, gathering up the unwanted and unused for a garage sale when I came across the stack. I no longer use handkerchiefs but had no plans of getting rid of them, so what to do? I decided that I'll frame them. I'm still deciding whether they'll go into their own separate square frames or collectively overlap one another like in the photos here. I don't even think I'll iron them, the creases have been there for years and seem like a part of the fabric now. All I know is that they'll make me smile every time I glance their direction.
Hue: Alabaster
SUZANNE TUCKER Casablanca in Alabaster | FROMENTAL Chinoiserie Wallpaper | L'AVIVA HOME Cameroonian Juju Hat | COUNTRY LIVING A Victorian in San Francisco | CIRCA LIGHTING Alabaster Ring Table Lamp
Burmese Silk Sarong Pillow
Today I'm drooling over this. What have you seen lately that's got you all excited? Share, please!
Palette No. 10
For the specific fabrics used in Palette No. 10, please subscribe to CLOTH & KIND’s emails. Details for each textile are provided exclusively to my email friends. Happy Friday!
Susan Hable
Guest edited by Tami Ramsay
Artist and textile designer Susan Hable spent her formative years in a microcosm of creative support. Encouraged from an early age by her parents, Hable studied art in various mediums and methods with two talented and local female artists in her small hometown of Corsicana, Texas. Greatly inspired and largely influenced by these experiences, her eye for color and form were coaxed into life and, in many ways, set the tone for what was to come. Formally trained as a graphic designer with a minor in art history, her focus has always included a blend of fine art and design, specifically painting and sculpture. With stints in Florence, Italy to study jewelry design with Betony Vernon and mixed media work with the Fuji Studio, as well as studies at Parsons in New York City in fashion accessory design, Hable’s particular brew of art has strong and deep roots in the power of form and seduction of hue but her path to painting simply for the sake of art has been a winding one. The journey initially started in the fashion accessories industry which ultimately led to textile design and the founding of Hable Construction in 1999 in Brooklyn with her sister and business partner, Katharine Hable Sweeney, a company aptly named after their great grandfather’s twentieth century road construction business. “We used textiles to get my art into the commercial world,” she said. This shift into the world of interior design, screen printed fabric and home accessories production provided a different platform for Hable’s designs and marked the beginning of a successful career as a textile artist.
Her unique spin on design has landed Hable Construction multiple collaborations including creating products for Garnet Hill, Barneys New York and Neiman Marcus, as well as exclusive fabric lines with S. Harris, LoomSource and Hickory Chair. Additionally, because of her expertise in the nuances of color and hue, Hable serves as a committee member on the Color Association of the United States, whose members split hairs to create a concise color palette that is agreed to be representative of the major influences, trends, and directions for upcoming seasons. Her whimsical designs can be also found in their newly launched project Gosluck, where you can find playful, fanciful and practical products, like the bullseye watercolor dartboard above.
But life will have its way, and Hable found herself beckoned at an interesting crossroads. Tagged by Didi Dunphy, curator for The Gallery at Hotel Indigo, to contribute a few of her textile designs as art for an exhibit, and encouraged by Hickory Chair creative director Ron Fiore to include some of her paintings in the decoration of their showroom at High Point Market, Hable's art was front and center. In both cases, her work created a buzz and several of her paintings sold on the spot with requests for commissions to follow. “It really ignited something in me,” she said, “and I realized I hadn’t tapped into this part of myself and it was time.”
Hable hit the sweet spot though when she and her husband Peter moved two 1918 tin mill village houses, snatched up at $400 a pop since they were slated to be burned down, from Eatonton, Georgia, into the backyard of their home in Athens. Reconfigured and refurbished as her art studio, “I told myself that I would repay the cost of it one painting at a time,” she said. Having moved from New York City to Athens four years ago, her studio now is a sun flooded creative respite. “It has been such a huge part of my painting. Just having the space for the large paper, plus the beautiful northern light, the quiet and no distractions,” she said. “It is one of the most important things that Athens has given me for my art.” Plus, the history of the tin mill houses is the stuff of legend. “People would come from the train tracks behind the mill houses and say that their great-grandmother died in the front room or that their family lived there for 50 years,” she explained. Although the closets were absent any skeletons, the walls were full of relics from the past. "We found, among some other odds things, a huge skeleton key, a baby shoe, a child’s toy top, an old spoon, and a magnet,” she said, all of which are now at home in the new studio.
Hable now finds herself an artist, in her own right, creating original works of art that are bold, fluid and honest. Her draughtsmanship is part abstraction, part minimalism but unmistakably Susan Hable. Her distinctive quality of line and unassuming technique of hand is everywhere evident, equally in her art as it is in her textile designs. Whether working solely with india ink or with bleeding pools of Hydrus liquid watercolors, her work is a graphic study of free floating flora and fauna, an interpretive color story of her keen observations and inspirations. “In my world, whimsical forms are combined with a unique color palette inspired by nature and beauty, rather than trends,” she said. “My design process begins with the most mundane of moments.” Humble beginnings though they may be, the resultant work is nothing short of a beautiful confluence of graphic shapes, unabashed color and negative space.
IMAGE CREDITS | Photography by Tami Ramsay at the art studio of Susan Hable; Gallery wall vignette image photographed at Bungalow Classic, an interior design retailer of Susan Hable's artwork in Atlanta, Georgia.