Growth and new research replacing old

My SCA kingdom, Artemisia, is gearing up for its 20th Anniversary this June. My favorite event locally, Arrows Flight's Toys for Tots,is also celebrating its 20th Birthday this year in November. The wave of nostalgia has me looking at my own SCA history. I originally began playing the summer I graduated high school in 1991. I happened to start in exactly the place I now live, and Arrows Flight was a Canton. I had spent the previous summer costuming shows for the Park City Shakespeare Festival and I thought myself very knowledgeable about the 16th Century.That summer I played recorder with a group of musicians, fought rapier with foils, and made a dress out of old table cloths. It was exactly what I was looking for and I wished it would never end. Seventeen is a very silly age, but oh so very magical.

When I left for college, I hoped to continue doing SCA stuff, but the local group had been going through a lot of political things and there wasn't a group to join. As I was broke, didn't have a car, and very, very young, I didn't realize I could have kept playing even without a local group. I reached out a couple of times to see about getting a group going, played with the incipient Shire of Ard Ruadh when I could get down to St. George (and they existed,) costumed for the Utah Shakespeare Festival, got a B.S. in history, played recorder and sang with friends who were alumnus of Renaissance Ensemble, played with the local Empire of Chivalry and Steel group when it cropped up, hung out at the Ren Faire, began researching Elizabethan Sumptuary Law and built the perfect garage for a Scadian with all kinds of hobbies and skills and the accompanying equipment.

Then my husband got a job up on the Wasatch Front and we were able to move north where there were active groups playing in the SCA. I jumped in with both feet almost a decade ago and haven't looked back. Seems like it is about time to do that, I guess. Evaluating progress is a useful tool for making future plans. This seems like a great time to create some focus for myself.

With that idea in mind, I pulled out my oldest major project; the gold coif I embroidered. It is based on an extant piece in a private collection. It also happens to be the cover image for Mary Gostelow's book Blackwork. Originally published in 1976, the book is usually pushed as the beginning book for historical blackwork. This was even more true 10 years ago when I was doing my research and there weren't as many other options.

I was displeased with the research flaws and problems with this coif, even before I finished it, However,  it is still something I am proud of. It is a beautiful, wearable piece of art as it is as well as being a case study in where mistakes can be made. All in all, it seems to be the perfect project for me to re-do as a growth project. I consider research to be my major art and I have certainly improved in that respect. The resources for materials and information have vastly changed, and so has my actual embroidery ability. I'm excited to do a better version of it.

I am starting with Jacqui Carey's book, Elizabethan Stitches, where this coif is case study 19, and laying out the embroidery pattern today. Better scale, more appropriate materials, and the correct stitches are the first changes. in the works.

Lazy S pattern for the camicia

Plate from Vavassore "Corona di Racammi" originally published in 1530

I love the 100 or so books published in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries jam packed full of embroidery patterns. After spending a couple of years collecting links and hard copies of them it is always exciting to have a project to use them for.  I considered just selecting a random pattern from one of the modelbuch published before 1545 to embroider on the cuffs and neckline of my camicia. I was seriously tempted by several from Engelnuff. (Yes, I do have a favorite modelbuchlein. Yes, I realize that says something about me.) After taking the excuse to browse through modelbuch for a few hours, however,  I went back to what was depicted the portrait. I was actually a bit disappointed by that. Here's a reason to utilize all this other data and I'm just squinting at the portrait?

The camicia has a simple scroll pattern of Ss on their side. There are quite a few lazy S and simple scroll patterns in the earlier books and I had originally pulled 5 or 6 to look at with various levels of simplicity, including a couple that added a flower or a heart and a few that omitted the acanthus style flourish. After looking at them a time or two I decided not to use them. This one from Vavassore is pretty much a dead ringer for the portrait and once I'd decided to do the S style, it only seemed right to do the exact pattern. But you have to admit, being able to find the exact pattern is at least sort of a good use of far too much research, right?

Closeup from Anea's site

The biggest reason for settling on the lazy S was balance. The pattern is actually rather plain and compared to the hundreds of other choices. It is just an s on its side with a tiny amount of flourish. I think with the overblown presence of the dress fabric, that's probably a necessity visually. If the embroidery was polychrome or more figural like several of the borders I was tempted to do are, it would get lost against the dress. The camicia is a contrast to the scrollwork and texture of the dress. It is simple. The sleeves aren't even gathered at the cuff. I was surprised to notice them coming out of the bottom of the sleeve floppy and a bit rumpled looking with no cuff or gathered frill.  I think the counter balance of the organized pattern and the informal finish helps sell the dress. it's also refreshing to see in all the uptightness of the mannerist portrait and I like that.

The best view I can get of the top edge of the camicia is from the Detroit Institute of Art portrait, There are two versions of the double portrait, one in Uffizi Gallery in Florence, one in Detroit. There is also a third portrait of just Eleonora in the dress painted posthumously. It is in the Wallace Collection in London. The Detroit portrait isn't quite as finely done as the Uffizi. If you are interested in finding out more about the differences between the two double portraits and seeing how the workshop of Bronzino was more involved in the Detroit version, there's an interesting article from the Journal of the American Institute of Conservation authored by Serena Urry comparing the two portraits and pointing out paint burs that show how the background was done and the faces left for the master. It also points out mistakes in the pattern of the dress fabric as well as looking at the simplification of the embroidery so it looks less three dimensional as compared to the Uffizi portrait. The Detroit loses the acanthus flourish and is a great deal more boxy. The extant published modelbuch, Furm-oder Modelbuchlein by Schonsperger published in 1523 has a pattern very similar. (Top one of the 3, although the bottom is a nice lazy S as well.

I like the Uffizi version via Vavassone a  bit more I think. What I don't like nearly as much is that either way, the cuffs and top edge are my least favorite blackwork type-- counted and reversible. I rather detest counted blackwork and have sworn off it. The cuff is turned up with a fully visible pattern showing in all 3 portraits, however. It is most definitely reversible. Sigh. I guess getting the correct look for things is why I embroider in the first place.

Spot printing and embroidering over it.

When I started this outfit in the past, I decided to do a plain camicia with embroidered neck and cuffs. I embroidered them with a pattern of griffins and mermaids taken from Giovanni Ostaus' Perfection of Design. While I love the cuffs and collar (and they still haven't found their way on to a camicia yet,) I think it is wrong for the outfit. The original plan was to have this be my Disney Challenge dress and to have the dress read as Ursula the SeaWitch. Therefore I was going to have the underdress be more purple and less pink. Since I'm going back to having it read like the portrait, the deep purple and green in the cuffs just seems a bit stronger and more noticeable than what I want to go with the pink painted on gold I'm now planning. Therefore, the new plan is to do a camicia with little spot motifs embroidered in gold.

http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O20024/panel-unknown/

As I'm currently playing with block printing, I think I will use the blocks to transfer the design and make certain it is consistent. This is an approach used in the 16th century. There are some examples of printed fabrics sold by printers for embroidering on. The two in the V&A show a variety of patterns. One is spot motifs that could be for embroidered slips or they could be used as is on a shift. The Vand A also has a smock with similar animals embroidered on it.  The other extant example is a coif that has been printed with flowers to shape with the printing visible. There is also a matching panel with the same design

http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O20024/panel-unknown/

that has been embroidered with black thread in a speckling stitch with added spangles.  

My plan is to use a small heartsease (pansy) stamp all over the linen for the camicia and then go back in with gold to match the spot motif in the portrait. It isn't quite the same pattern, but I like heartsease and they were a popular embroidered flower in the period (one of Elizabeth I's badges as well.)

I also happen to already own the cute little pansy stamp pictured first. I purchased it from Blockwallah on Etsy.
Using a supply already on hand wins in this case. Although I have to admit I am very temped by some of the cute animals in the extant panel. Or possibly a seeblatt.

http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O364616/coif-unknown/

I do have a small heart with some interior detailing and I may use that alternating with the pansy for the cuffs and collar. Or, possibly something more geometric. I'm going to have to do some tests to see what I like. I figure the spot printed camicia will make a nice project to work on at events, sort of like the little printed cross stitch kits I did as a kid that were my first exposure to embroidery.

50 seems like a nice round number

I still have loads to do on the mermaid bands for the camicia neck and cuffs, but they are coming along.  I have about fifty hours in to them at this point. I still have about a gryphon and a half to go with the backstich in the purple silk. Then there are four mermaids to do in the green silk. Then I've got to do some satin stitch and couching in gold. I have absolutely no idea how much more time it is going to take. I played with the gold on one cuff just a little in order to decide on whether to plan for gold, but I am nowhere near finished with what I want to put in. I'll probably put some gold on the centers of the mermaid tails and maybe some in their hair. The design looks a bit bare and I think it needs some bands on the edge, but there's not enough space on the linen strips, so those will need to be worked once they are attached.  It probably needs some lace as well.

Sirena Bicaudata

Mermaid from Egenulf, 1527

I decided to go the easy route and use the mermaid and gryphon band pattern I found first in the Ostaus modelbook for the bands for neck and cuffs. I did a quick sample at about 3 inches wide and it will be rather beautiful I think. The unusual style of the camicia makes it a rather long band however, and I don't want to use it for the spot motifs after doing all of that. Something simpler is in order. So, I've continued to look for design inspiration.

I hit the jackpot with search terms earlier. Sirena Bicaudata brings up some wonderful flickr pools of historical mermaids. There's a gorgeous series of them from a 12th century Swiss church that I'm in love with. Not to mention a 1513 siren by Durer that is totally fabulous (keep scrolling in the first link.) This group of images, many of them architectural, is also tons of fun to go delving into.

I also found a siren pattern in one of my favorite modelbuchs, Christian Egenulf's 1527 Modelbuch aller art Nehewercks un Strickens. I love the goofy book because it is so very hand drawn. It doesn't have the slicker more etchy look of so many of the other books. Nor anything as formal as grid lines.  It is inspiring me to simplify the mermaids for the motifs and to just go for it. The date is also helpful for my early documentation.

And just to throw in one more design inspiration and make sure we keep it 16th century Italian, despite my drooling over sirens hither and thither and yon, here's a roundel from a print made in 1460-70's Florence. It's held in the British Museum and the curator's comments state that it was probably reference for ivory or wood carvers.

Bronwyn's Laurelling hood: the re-do

So I saw this amazing hood that some embroiderers and costumers had made for a friend stepping up to the Order of the Laurel. Then I got to thinking that I knew someone pretty amazing that was going to be doing the same thing. Unlike me, she is not a "More is Better" sort of person, so a giant cloak of glitz and pearls and well, MORE is not the right thing for her.  But a hood feels like something you'd wear.  Something that would keep you warm and protected from the elements and if your friends had something to do with it, it might feel like a hug. So I pestered Bronwyn's Laurel to see what she thought and she said "go for it."  Even better, Varia drew up the embroidery designs, provided the linen, made copies of the pattern, and handed me some wool for the hood.

I really tried to get this done on time for 12th Night.  What I ended up with was some last minute scrambling and a hood that was wearable but not quite right.  She got to wear it for her ceremony and then I swiped it back to work on it some more.  It's been staring at me since as a house full of plague has kept me from crafting.  Progress is happening again, though.  I've unpicked everything and am putting it back together.  It's slow going, however, as perfectionist chick has snatched the scissors from my normal whirlwind self and is at the helm on this project. Be prepared for probably more detail than you want to hear about on this one.

First up is some beautiful embroidery that I had basically nothing to do with.  They look a little raggedy at the moment because they used to have a layer of bias and braided trim on top of them. They've also been trimmed and stitched together to follow the curve of the hood up a couple of inches from the bottom and back from the buttons and button holes along the front.  Yeah, I HAD to try to do something more complex rather than just putting them along the bottom and calling it good.  Believe me, I'm kicking myself, since some puckers in the curve and the placement of the trim is what is making me re-do it.  I swear it'll look good when I'm done or I'll die trying.

The entire curved piece along with an extra slip that I got too late to include.  It it only half the size and was trimmed so I'm still trying to figure out how to make it fit.

Everyone was given a laurel wreath and either a fleur d'lis or a scallop shell from Bronwyn's heraldry.  We tried for even distribution of the motifs, but since the stitching time was smack dab in the middle of holiday commitments several people were unable to complete their embroidery.  To be honest, I'm glad about that.  If everyone that wanted to stitch on this had managed it we would have had 3 or so rows of embroidery and I'd be appliqueing bits on dags or something.  As it is, I probably need to gather up the unfinished pieces and made a needlebook, pincushion, scissor keep, sweetebag, scroll case and assorted other bits for the new Laurel. I think there's enough floating around to do everything and more. I refuse to investigate further until I'm done with the hood.

Front of the right side is Dame Varia Goff, who Bronwyn was apprenticed to.  One of the most touching things said at the Laurelling was her speaking about that.  "This has NOTHING to do with me.  You did this all on your own.  I just wanted to say that you were mine." 

The pieces got put in the order they did primarily due to what motifs got finished, but another good friend, Laurel for his embroidery, and household member of Bronwyn's is the front of the other side. Baron Hachmood Karl Braden von Sobernheim O.L., O.P., (a whole bunch of other initials) did gorgeous laurel wreaths in the fleur. I, of course got a crummy pictures of his gorgeous blackwork.

Next to Varia's square is THL Bethoc ni Coiseam du Cruford.  She hosts the Loch Salaan embroidery guild at her home (and one day I will make it to a meeting rather than just intending to.)

 Next is Lady Marguerite de Chenanceux.  I love her little mockingbird!  We were each supposed to put an initial or a personal sigil/badge inside the wreath to show who embroidered which.  Hers turned out so cute.

This one is mine.  I'm not showing you the whitework shell because it's a little sad.  I'm considering trimming it out and inserting Aurora's half square over the top of it.  I tried some pulled work that I'm just not particularly pleased with.  I do like the simplicity of the detached chain for the wreath though and the texture in my krin.

 This one is Mistress Aurora du Portugal's. She was the Kingdom Youth officer when we started locally and my kids still look for her at events.  She's going to teach her period roses class at the collegium I'm helping organized.  She mentioned it during the pomander class I taught at the last one and everyone there was very, very excited for it.  I think I'm going to treat it as an Elizabethan era floral slip and trim it, applique it on and couch gold around the edges.  Yup, trimming out my shell seems like it might just be the answer.

Lady Fiametta da Trastavere is center back. It's not nepotism, I swear  She was the only other fleur and I did it for balance  I do have to say the couched gold and flaming heart make my blingy heart happy.

Lady Bronwyn y Ceredigion is next on the way around the circle with its tiny little spider.

Baroness Sumayya bint Suleiman O.L. is this one.  She was determined to be a part of this, hunting me down to make sure I had her square.

Lady Cecelia di Caravello just sort of got handed a square and told to do one.  Show's you what happens when you sit with the wrong crowd at court when I'm busy plotting stuff                                                       

Next up I'll bore you with the trim and buttons I made while I try to get this put back together.

Working on garters

I spent the weekend on the road where I determined that my garters are the perfect travel project. Since they're a repeating counted pattern all I needed was needle, silk, and the garters which all were easily shoved into my pocket. If I had daintier legs they'd be done, but I am rather close to finishing the first one. Just have to do the return journey on one section and attach the buckle. I'm working on a prefinished aida cloth trim that I bought at the thrift store. I got an entire roll (about 100 yards. . .) for $2. I'm pretty thrilled at having come up with some way to use it. Its ten squares wide so it limited the patterns I could use, but one of the first places I ever encountered blackwork, The Reader's Digest Complete Guide to Needlework had a repeating heart motif that I've always loved. While that's not exactly an historical source, it is very similar to this pattern from Nicholas Bassee's New Modelbuch of 1568.

The chart is one of Claudette Ziemann's. It used to be available for free in "The Bronwyn's Blackwork Library" but has been taken down. You can still find it via The Internet Archive. The difference between the historic one and the modern is the stair stepping rather than the use of diagonal lines for the sides of the hearts. Leslie Wilkins has a fill pattern very similar to the Reader's Digest one in her Beginner's Guide to Blackwork pictured on one of the band samplers, but it is not charted. Rosemary Drysdale has a chart for the smoothed out heart border identical to the Reader's Digest one in The Art of Blackwork Embroidery.

I started with the hearts and made a few adjustments. I modified the cross in the heart by adding more diagonal lines and turned the cross into something closer to my fleur/krin. That was about it though. This is the fastest pattern I've ever done since its totally straight journey, no trips off the line.

I'm planning to put a buckle on one side and did a bit of fringe on the other end. I left it long enough so it can loop around and hang down. I don't have any documentation for this form of garters, but the last time I went looking at extant examples they were so wide ranging in design that I don't feel that it is crazy. Sprang, woven, macrame, embroidered, knitted, plain fabric, leather. . . the only thing they have in common is that they hold up stockings.

I'm hoping to finish the other garter next weekend at Solstice Court. It's the perfect sort of project to have at an event and I have the entire day without my children to chase.

Update:
I finally found somewhere that has the fabric I used. I was looking for cotton aida cloth trim or ribbon. Apparently its called banding or just aida bands. Zweigart makes one that seems to be what I have and its available in lots of colors. Not for nearly the nothing I paid for mine, but I like it so its nice to know I can get more. There are also similar products in linen. I was thinking this sort of thing might be fun to make for largesse as either garters, bookmarks, or trim. As I said, its a fabulous travel project.

Another salvage operation

I'm looking at my list of stuff to do and already despairing.  EVERYTHING has to be heavily embroidered.  I don't have a lot of trim in the stash either, having used most of my reserves for the IRCC.  I started opening random boxes in the garage, hoping for inspiration when I came across the lengha.  Heavily, heavily embroidered with mirrors and goldwork its been something I haven't ever found the perfect use for.  I did use one of the sleeves to make a bag to keep my zills in for bellydance, but the rest of it has just been sitting around for several years.  While the motifs aren't really correct for Russian, I'm thinking the sheer amount of gold and bullion knots might make it something I can work with.  I'm still amazed at how useful the Christmas ribbon salvage was for the Italian.  The cord and the ribbon itself went into quite a few of the different pieces of the outfit.  hopefully this will be half as useful. The little flowers aren't obnoxiously wrong.  So, I'm plunging in.  As sad as it makes me to waste some of the embroidery, I think cutting the individual bits apart, mounting them and appliqueing them to create some trims is the best use.  I'd already planned to integrate some orange and gold in with my green and red (it ties in with the fabric for the letnik and clashing is a good thing anyway.


Holding my breath and starting to cut.  Ouch!

Some inspiration for the embroidery

Most of what we have preserved of old Russian embroidery is ecclesiastical, and this piece is no exception, but it uses old motifs.  This follows the Russian pagan cosmology with the tree of life, the birds in the heavens and the stags on earth.  This piece also demonstrates one of the major hallmarks of all Russian embroidery: axial symmetry.  The piece combines the upperclass hallmarks of gold and pearls with the older peasant symbology.  For that reason its one of my favorites.  Conveniently for me it is also dated 1544.  Most of the other extant pieces with the tree of life motif are either earlier (12th century) or later (19th.)  That's not to say that the motif didn't continue all the way through, its just preserved pieces are few and far between so its nice to have something in the middle to point to.  I plan to use the Tree of Life, the birds, and the sirin (bird woman hybrid that is a symbol of happiness) as my major decorative motifs in combination with the krin/heart design.

The krin dates clear back into the Scythian felts.  I babbled about it a bit here  The picture I have there is actually from 12th century embroidered Russian pieces.  If you'd like to see some more examples of the heart and the tree of life and some birds, one of my favorite articles is here  with an English translation here.    Again, it is a continuing motif with some older examples and lots of post period examples.  My middle piece is slightly post SCA period, dating to 1667.

I've seen some other examples in period and better showing the heart than this one (which replaces it with bezants/plaques,) but I can't lay my hands on them this morning. I'm not finding a couple of my books on Russian embroidery.  FRUSTRATING!  Both of these come from Early Russian Embroidery in the Zagorsk Museum Collection by T. Manushina, Moscow 1983.


I think I'm going to do some sketching for designs for the muff today and see what I come up with.

Modelbuchs how I love thee

The terrible sketch to the right is my first quick idea for what I wanted in my couching pattern. I knew I wanted the lily, the heart, some flourishing curly ques and possibly a seeblatt or two. I riffed on that for awhile and drew up 5 or 6 more ideas and then stared at them all for days, unable to decide which one to clean and tighten up for use as the actual pattern.

Then I did what I should have done in the first place, since it was so much quicker and easier. Not to mention totally historically accurate. I flipped through some modelbuchs. I found the perfect pattern on page 15 of Christian Egenulf's Modelbuch aller art Nehewercks un Strickens. Its dated 1527, so the time period is really nicely in my portrait's time period. I love this particular modelbuch because all of the patterns are suitable for freehand embroidery. So many of the other compilations are intended for lace or counted work, so its nice to have variety. The entire book is available in pdf if you follow the link. I darkened my copy and simplified it a tiny bit, ignoring the flowers and dots. Then I taped it up on the big window of my kitchen and traced it onto my linen. Quick, easy, painless. I should have started with that.

That's the extent of the progress, however. My house is suffering from serious neglect, so I'll be spending some time cleaning this weekend. We're taking the kids to the Utah Renfest and Fantasy Faire today. It's been raining for 4 days straight so its probably going to be rather muddy, but its the last weekend. We've gone every year since moving here. Last year I didn't get to go since the twins were only a week or two old so I'm looking forward to it. I usually get my Mother's Day present from the faire. Last year my husband bought me a GORGEOUS handforged Francisca throwing ax. It totally made my day, since I was in total mom mode with the new infants, to have him buy something specifically for the part of me that is Hastings and not mom. Counting down the minutes to when we get to go play today.

The Krin and the Seeblatt

I've been trying to decide what to embroider on my breeches and stockings. There are so many options. Maybe too many. I started by looking at blackwork patterns because the extant pair that I like the most has blackworked (or blue in this case) acorns, Byzantine eagles, and little plaques with mottos. I took a look at patterns from a 16th century Italian sampler. The original is held in the V&A. Several people have been sweet enough to chart the patterns. The most easily accessible is at Dragonlore but if you go to Bronwyn's Pattern Library via the Wayback machine and check it around 2004, there is a beautiful selection of patterns graphed from this same sampler. Like I said, maybe too many options. I am not the biggest fan of counted blackwork and honestly don't know if I have the time to do a pair of breeches that intricate.

So, there's the other pair that I like, the pink silk breeches seen under a fine cutwork smock in Patterns of Fashion 4. It has polychrome floral embroidery in diagonal lines. Really pretty, but also crazy to try to get done in the time allotted. I'm also not really a girl girl with a love of florals. I've been driving myself crazy trying to figure out what to do.

Then, I had a tub epiphany last night (I do my best thinking in the bath.) I've already got pink linen for breeches. The diagonal bands are really nice. Doing simplified embroidery in that shape in one or two colors shouldn't be too hard. Not great history, but it should be pretty and I already have decided that this isn't going to be an A&S competition sort of project. If I split the difference and sort of mix the floral and the heraldic it should be reasonably good looking. Enter the seeblatt. Its a heraldic symbol that is supposed to represent a waterlily leaf. It sort of looks like an inverted heart with a club (the card suit type) inside it. Another vaguely floral heraldic symbol I like is the Krin (that's it there is the second line in the corner.) Krin is Russian for lily. The symbol is a descendent of the Greek wild lily (the Fleur de lis is also descended from this.) It means natural beauty, growth and life. If you want to wade through a really great article on a Kievan Rus jewelry hoard, there's some information on the Krin on page 73. The krin has a red central bud and then is surrounded in leaves. The symbol is really old. There's a beautiful representation of it in felt dating from the 3rd century BC. I used it as a border on a felted wall bag I made last year.

It is, however, in constant use. That's one of the great things about old motifs, especially when they find their way into silk patterns. They linger. The lily in the heart is perfectly correct for 300 B.C., 11th Century Russia, and the France of Marie Antoinette, but would look just as fresh today. As I said, not perfect research, but it does have all the hallmarks of what I love most about history. It falls into my "fun and not jarring" category.

So, I think I'll be drawing up some bands that combine lilies, spades, hearts, and clubs. It'll probably look like I'm ready to play poker. Just need some diamonds.