About Eleanor Kuhns

Librarian and Writer Published A Simple Murder, May 2012

Early looms

Why am I so fascinated with looms? Well, partly because textiles themselves fascinate me. I quilt, dye fabric and have tried my hand at weaving. Some hand weavers I know also spin. For most of human history, spinning and weaving were core to, not just the production of cloth, but to a central experience of living. Every culture has some form of weaving. Egyptian paintings, images on Classical Greek pots, excavations in Greenland all speak to the ubiquity of looms and the equipment by which cloth was made. Some times fragments of clothing are discovered as well, clothing that was worn by people of that era

.Looms, in other words, developed in some form everywhere in the world. All looms must hold the warp threads straight, must be able to form sheds (the opening that is formed by lifting alternate threads and allows a space for the weft thread (or shuttle if one has been invented) to go through, and a beater that presses the weft threads together to form the cloth.

Broudy suggests that basket weaving predated weaving with fibers. That makes sense since the reeds or other vegetable matter are intertwined in much the same way as the warp and weft. No loom necessary. Early looms were probably a cord strung between two poles, or trees and the weft is woven from the top. It must be hard to weave this way. But it is easy to see how the warp weighted looms developed. The hanging threads, especially of some softer fiber, would need to be weighted to maintain the necessary tension.

One type of early loom that I find fascinating is the ground loom. Two pegs are driven into the ground at either end. The weaver sits on the floor. Primitive right? Nonetheless, the Egyptians managed to weave sheer  linen in this manner.Sher linen, I might add, that the mechanized looms do not seem able to duplicate.  And linen is a difficult fiber to weave since the linen yarn has no give or stretch.

Anyway, back to the warp weighted loom. Pictures on Greek pottery clearly show looms with weights at the ends of the threads. Weavers were able to weave tapestries on these looms and both Barber and Broudy suggest that the cloth Penelope was weaving while she waited for Odysseus was a story tapestry. (This makes sense. If it were straight weaving, the suitors would have to be idiots not to realize she was ripping out the rows she’d woven during the day. ) Warp weighted looms have also been found in Scandanavia.

weaving in myths and legends

Spinning and weaving were so important in the past that these activities are a regular feature of the myths and stories that have come down to us. Think Sleeping Beauty, put to sleep by pricking her finger on a spindle.

Usually the myths put the creation of weaving at the beginning of  history. As we might expect, many of the early myths attribute the beginnings to the spider, or, in China, the silk worm. The myth of the spider-weaver was still present in the Greek myths during the Classical period. (Remember, Hera turned Ariadne into a spider for comparing her weaving to the Hera’s.)  So the archeologists say that weaving probably began somewhere in the dawn of prehistory. There was weaving before there were looms. And spinning before that. Barber, in Women’s work, the first 20,000 years, talks about cords and string that were used as netting. Sometimes the fibers were twisted together to make a stronger cord. And then plaiting strands together was invented. Who would guess that braiding would have to be discovered?

Anyway, references to spinning and weaving are all through the folktales we still know now. Besides Sleeping Beauty, there are the three fates, who determine a man’s lifespan. How many fairy tales are there where the simple but beautiful and virtuous maiden must spin straw into gold. Rumplestiltskin is probably the most well known of this theme but there are others.

Remember the Grimm story of the princess supposed to spin straw into gold. She is helped to do so but the price is to invite three deformed women to her wedding.(Rather do this than give up my first born.)  One has a swollen lip, from moistening the fiber, one a large foot from pressing the treadle on a spinning wheel and the large thumb comes from twisting the fiber into yarn. Or the 12 swans where the sister had to weave nettles into shirts by a certain time or her brothers will stay swans forever. She is unable to finish the last shirt and one brother has a swan wing the rest of his life.

These are stories we still know, although I venture to say most children in the past were up close to both spinning and weaving in the home.

Looms – Early history

When I originally took weaving lessons, my instructor commented that language pertaining to men’s activities had come down to us. No so true about language pertaining to women’s activities.

Well, words have come down to us. We just don’t always know them. Heirloom, for example, referred to the loom that was passed down from generation to generation. Looms are expensive now, they were really expensive then. I suspect most people know that spinster derives from spinning. Unmarried women had to spin a certain amount of yarn to make the family linens. We’ve all heard of the Hope chest which girls filled so they had the items necessary for their households as married women.

Eric Broudy, inThe Book of Looms, explains the word loom as from the Old English geloma, which meant simply tool or utensil. He says “The loom, perhaps next to the stone ax and spear, was the tool in ancient times.”

Who knew, right?

Looms and how they work

I had a question put to me this past weekend. How do looms work? Looms are sophisticated pieces of equipment. In the book Women’s Work, the First 20,000 years, Barber makes the point that the first cloths were actually made of twisted fibers. The process of weaving had not been invented.  There have been a variety of looms (more about that later) but all looms share a few characteristics in common.

First, the primary job of a loom is to hold the warp threads taut. For those of you who are non-weavers, warp threads are the length-wise threads. The weft go crosswise.Unlike knitting or crocheting, in which interlocking loops form the cloth, the warp and weft cross each other at right angles. Different methods of holding the warp taut has been employed through history.

The other important feature is the ‘cross’. If one thinks about cloth, it is easy to see that the various threads don’t just lie upon one another. Each weft thread goes over and under the warp threads.Also, in a block of three weft threads, the middle one goes over and under  a different warp thread. So, there must be some way of lifting the warp threads to insert each one of the weft threads. Now handweavers use a shuttle, but this is a relatively recent invention. Backstrap weavers use their fingers to lift the threads so that the finished cloth is woven in a memorized pattern. Without the cross,(I.e. where the warp threads and weft threads cross) there would be no cloth. Heddles and shed sticks (or the sheds in, say the jack loom) make it easy to lift the appropriate warp threads.  Every other warp thread is lifted and then the alternate threads the next pass of the weft. This is how one ‘weaves’ the threads in and out.

Most of the other inventions connected with a loom basically provide some way to weave a pattern. Modern looms employ heddles (which look like long large eyed needles) and reeds (big comb- looking pieces).The more the slots (or dents in weaver talk) o a reed, the finer the cloth. These separate the threads and by connecting the treadles to the appropriate threads  various patterns can be constructed.

As looms grew more sophisticated. they went from the basic warp and weft (2 sheds)  to multiple sheds. A shed is simply the space between the warp and weft. More sheds mean more combinations for lifting the warp threads and so more patterns.

 

Cosmopolitan Salem

From out modern vantage point, we think of ourselves as sophisticated and worldly, and the eighteenth century as primitive and insular. Well, that may be partly true. But international trade during the 1790’s was extensive. Salem Mass, as the city that sent out the first American merchant ships, was especially cosmopolitan and affluent to boot.

We learn in school about the search for spices. And spices were a big part of the trade. The first merchant ship that went to India and environs in 1783, the Grand Turk, returned to Salem with pepper and made a profit of 700%.

But spices, although important, were not the only cargo. Ships went out to Russia and traded furs and iron, to India for spices, cloth and opium, and finally to China. One of the trade goods that became such a part of American culture that no one recalls the origin is the humble bandanna. Yes, these simple cloth squares were imports from India and became an essential part of, first, a sailor’s wardrobe, and then a cowboy’s. The fabric used was bandhini (hence the name) which means tie and dye.

Sailors, primarily whaling men. brought back the art of tattooing from Polynesia. This is why early stereotypes of sailors mark them as tattooed; they adopted the practice before it became popular in the wider American culture.

Moreover, People in Salem saw merchants from these exotic countries. Salem is home to one of the first colonies of immigrants in the US.

Salem declined in importance as a shipping port during the 1800s as the harbor began to silt up and Boston took over. But the East India Marine Society established a museum (and a library as well as a number of other institutions) which included artifacts from India and numbered some Indian gentlemen among the donors.

ALA in Chicago

As a lifelong librarian, I have gone to more conferences than I can count. Mostly local (Library Association of Rockland County, New York Library Association, and occasionally a national conference. I would have wanted to go to New Orleans but I’ve never made it. Not yet anyway, but I hope to one day.

This year, though, the conference was in Chicago. What an interesting city!

McCormick Conference Center

My usual plan is to take a few workshops and hit the exhibits. Always the exhibits.

In Exhibit hall

And now that I am a published author, I do writing stuff.

panel discussion

I look like I’m sleeping but I’m not. Really. I was on a panel with Charles Finch, Julia Keller,T heresa Schwegel and Tasha Alexander. All very talented writers. After the panel discussion, we signed books. I met a fan, one of the great thrills of my life.

SINC booth

I signed three and a half cartons of books at the Sisters in Crime Booth. I am seated with Libby Hellman here.

Any downsides? Well, I didn’t get to stay in Chicago as long as I would have liked. And now I plan to reread the Harry Dresdens. As I traveled around Chicago, I kept looking for a likely building that would house Harry’s apartment (destroyed in one of the newer Books – Ghost Story I think.) I also believe the McCormick Center was featured in one of the more recent works. I want to find out, now that I’ve been here.

indigo sweater

In this image of a child’s sweater, (what I decided to use the indigo dyed yarn for), the different shades of blue are clearly visible. Although I chose to wad up the skein of yarn, so that the strands dyed at different intensities, indigo is usually used in a vat. In a large container like a vat, the fiber can spread out and every part dyes equally.

echild's sweater

more about weaving and looms

As I continue to research the varieties of looms, I came across a book titled “Women’s Work, the first 20,000 years” by Elizabeth Wayland Barber. In it, she traces the history of weaving, from the first beginnings when primitive fiber was twisted into string and used to make clothing.

The modern loom is actually a very sophisticated construct, with many variations that came before. I am thinking of the ground loom that the Ancient Egyptians used to weave linen.

The backstrap loom is another efficient loom that is still used in some places today, such as Peru.

For millenia, the weaving of cloth was women’s work, easily fit in around child care. I am proud to weave (I feel I am not skilled enough to call myself a weaver) and work at other fiber arts; I am at the end of a long line of tradition.

More about indigo

hough indigo is a pain to work with, and will dye your sink, your hands, the vat and practically anything it touches, it produces such a wonderful blue that one can’t help but love it.

Besides the silk scarf I dyed, that came out a pastel, I also dyed lambswool. It is intended for a young boy’s sweater. I prefer the tie-dyed look and that is what I got. Usually the fiber is spread out in a vat so that it dyes evenly.

It is easy to see the variation although these strands are primarily lightly dyed.

indigo lightI

Some of the strands dyed the dark indigo, so familiar to denim wearers.

indigo dark

 

And the skein overall demonstrates the variation, from very light to very dark.indigo wool

King Indigo

If Madder is Queen, then Indigo must be King of natural dyes. Indigo bearing plants occur in many parts of the world. Woad, the blue stuff used by Mel Gibson is actually a form of indigo.

Indigo, unlike onion skins or madder or even cochineal, does not require a mordant. The real problem is preparing the dye to make it useable. Indigo is not water soluble so the water has to be sufficiently alkaline to ‘fix’ the dye onto the fiber.

The real work comes in the processing of the indigo plant into dye. The weed was covered with lime water and soaked. Fermentation began in the vat, resulting in a blue froth rising to the top of the water. The water is drained into a second vat and agitated. Then lime water is added to reduce the dye. Clear liquid rises to the top and sediment containing the dye settles to the bottom.

Excess water is drained and the indigo is dried. It is cut into bricks and left to dry.

I confess I don’t do this. I buy partially reduced indigo dyes, which looks like chunks of blue stone.

indigo scarf

These chunks are heated. I add a reducer; thiox dioxide, plus soda ash. Soda ash is like the lime; it makes the water alkaline. The solution is heated and amazingly enough, the liquid turns a funny yellowish green.

Cloth or fiber dipped into the dye comes out that same yellow green but as it hits the air, it turns blue.

This is a really smelly process. One of my students likened it to having a perm. And the smell lingers long after the vat of dye has been removed elsewhere.

Indigo overdyes beautifully and I dyed the above scarf with both the indigo and the madder. The central section is a very interesting mix of blue and peach.