Constructs and Blackwork

So I’ve been thinking about “blackwork” a lot. This has been influenced by my research for an Expert panel for Athena’s Thimble, but also by some recent discussions on facebook. I repeated my assertion that counted reversible blackwork is really not the norm for 16th century English monochrome embroidery, and definitely ruffled some feathers. And I understand why- as a constructivist, I understand that knowledge is based on constructs, and it’s upsetting when constructs are challenged.

In brief, a construct is a belief that is built and developed over time. As adults, our constructs tend to be very firmly built and solid- children have slightly more fluid constructs especially during the 0-5 years. Constructs include an emotional component, and people react violently in some cases when a construct is challenged. This is why you can teach a child that a cat is not a dog, even though both are furry and have four legs, but try to convince an adult that “blackwork in England is mostly not counted or reversible” and you will have a fight on your hands. And I understand. My very first pieces of blackwork were a charted counted reversible cuffs and collar. It was only when I really began LOOKING at what was there that I began to think maybe I wasn’t seeing the whole picture. And that took years of looking.

People respond with exceptions, citing the portrait of Jane Seymour with geometric counted cuffs. Which is a valid example. However, where do we draw the line? If we can say, well, rough 70% of the paintings during this given time and this given place, and 85% of the extant items show these characteristics, then, to me, those would indicate something “true” about embroidery in that specific time and space. And I think we need to recognize that time and space are CRUCIAL- just because we have examples of a low-neck gathered camisa in Italy in the 16th century doesn’t mean that English smocks in the 16th century were made in the same way. Embroidery, likewise, is not necessarily universal in style and technique. We can say with some certainty: This is most common of the pieces and paintings we have. There are always exceptions, and those rare anomalous examples. We have an incomplete record, so we may have to change our constructs in the face of new evidence. If someone unearths a treasure trove of counted reversible cuffs and collars, I will rework my hypotheses. But we have to make our assertions based on the evidence at hand- not we “want” to be true. And this means understanding ‘the common’.

If I’m judging A& or taking a class then I’m looking for an understanding of what we can prove are the dominating trends and characteristics, and NOT someone cherry-picking examples and pieces- that, to me, shows a lack of understanding about the art form as a whole, for a given time and space. But this also assumes everyone thinks like me- I strive to be a historian first, and an artisan second. As a historian, I have rules and confines which govern me- the historical record that exists is my teacher. I must make my decisions based on the reality of that record.

So that happened.

On Saturday, at Mudthaw, Their Majesties of the East, Edward and Thyra, offered me elevation to the Order of the Laurel. After much contemplation and counsel, I accepted. So I am now technically Mistress Amy Webbe, of the East. :) Here's a pic...I'll post more as I get them.

Projecte Update

Here as a progress shot of the blackwork shift- one and a half sleeves finished. I really love the look of the "free" blackwork. Which leads me to my next thought: I'm finding very, very few actual examples of counted English blackwork. We absolutely have counted monochrome embroidery from other parts of the world; however, if we work with the definition that blackwork is "16th century English monochrome embroidery", then, by it's very provenance, extant pieces of 16th century Italian monochrome cannot be examples of blackwork. More on this to come.

On mastery- more questions than answers...

In response to my post about "thinking", someone made the comment about obtaining mastery "if that's what one wants to do". Which got me thinking about what exactly mastery is. What does it mean to be a master?

It occurs to me that we can point to some forms of mastery. We can look at an athlete, a musician, a fine artist, a dancer, and say that they produced something flawless. But can we say that about a novel? A dissertation? A composition? A theorem? It seems the products of our hands are far more likely to be objectively considered perfect than the products of our minds.

So what does it mean, then, to obtain "mastery"? Is it the act of producing a flawless object, or is it the journey required to produce that object? Can one be separated from the other?

And when does one become a "Master"? Is it a title one assumes on one's self? Is it a title one accepts from one's peers? Or from one's students? Or does true Mastery come when one accepts that one knows nothing? (Or perhaps one should not write blog posts when watching "Kung Fu Panda".)

Is Mastery even something one can seek? Or does the very act of seeking it nullify it?

What do you think?

Interlude- Drawnwork and Needlelace

The shift is very slow going. I'm possibly intimidated by the scope of the project, or possibly the actual size of the panels that need to be embroidered. The motifs themselves move quickly- 40 minutes or so. So I should be much further along, but I'm trying not to feel too guilty about it.

It occurred to me that perhaps I needed to do something smaller for a break, so I could finish something and feel like I accomplished things. I have a tendency to choose huge projects requiring hundreds of hours, so I needed to do something smaller.

I was considering the categories for Athena's Thimble, and realized I still had no ranking in 4 of them- drawn/open work, lacis, needlelace, and padded work. I had started working on a raised-work bee at Pennsic, and I may go back to that. But I decided to give drawn thread work a try.

I began by taking a piece of 3.5 ounce linen (approx. 80 threads per square inch) and remove 6 threads together. This may have been slightly more than I wanted, but I wanted it to be visible. I did a hem stitch to create a half-inch hem, and then went back and worked the drawn threads in both directions, creating, in theory, little boxes. Somehow, I got a torque in the material, so my lines slant- this may be a result of tension, hemming, or of removing too many threads. I should experiment in the future. I then decided to add a simple needlelace border, using 40/2 linen thread. Ideally, I would like to use 60/2, or perhaps 90/2, but I couldn't find those in my stash. the 120/2 was simply too lightweight too work. Overall, I'm happy with how my border came out, but it is a little "thick", probably due to the thread weight. The border was worked by making bars and covering with a buttonhole stitch.

Blackwork Shift- Progress Shot!

Here is a pic of almost half of one sleeve completed:

It moves much faster than the polychrome embroidery, averaging about 40 minutes or so a motif. I'm still struggling with stem vs. outline stitch, and sometimes the stitch just looks "rope-y" no matter what I do, but that is in keeping with extant pieces, so the overall effect is still Elizabethan, at least to my eyes.

I rather enjoy how each little critter has their own personality.

Thinking about Thinking

Today was the first day of school for teachers in my district. (I'm a teacher-librarian.) Like most in-services, this one touched on more effective teaching methods, and cited Bloom's Taxonomy. Bloom's Taxonomy is an organization of "higher order thinking skills" going from basic memory and recall at the bottom, to creation or evaluation at the top (evaluation is the traditional top, creation is at the top of the revised taxonomy). Here's a graphic from Miami of Ohio Office of Community Engagement:

It occurred to me that this also applied to the construction of deep knowledge in the SCA, particularly in applied Arts and Sciences. Let's use embroidery as a "for instance". When we begin looking at embroidery, we may begin by learning about the extant pieces. We can name them, locate them, and maybe find new ones. We are at the stage of "knowledge". We may then begin examining them more closely- maybe we identify the stitches being used, and maybe we figure out how the object was made. We may share this knowledge with others, demonstrating our "comprehension" of the subject. When we actually make a replica of an object, we've moved up to "application" of our comprehension. We don't just own the information, we've used the knowledge to construct something similar. Now this is where it gets tricky. What, exactly, is the difference between "application" and "creation/synthesis"? Well, it really depends on the next step, "analysis". Without a thorough analysis of the subject as a whole, one cannot truly synthesize their knowledge. Without an understanding of time and place, motifs, themes, and styles, one is left only applying their knowledge, instead of synthesizing it into a new creation.

At the top of the pyramid is synthesis and evaluation. These two really do go hand in hand. Without a critical eye (and I mean constructively critical) one cannot truly create a period artifact. One needs to evaluate what is (and is not!) there in the object before one can make informed choices about the object one is about to create.

So, in slightly simpler terms, using embroidery as a metaphor:

Knowledge: There is a polychrome coif in the Met, acquistion number 64.101.1258.

Comprehension: It's worked in detached buttonhole and plaited braid stitches.Motifs are birds, butterflies, roses, lillies, cornflowers.

Application: Experimenting shows that outlining the flowers first in stem stitch makes it easier to do the detached buttonhole evenly. Starting with a row of running stitches stops me from making too many buttonhole stitches.

Analysis: These flowers are all found in an English kitchen garden; many others also use blue borages; the plaited braid is done using gilt thread on the extant examples, whether coif, nightcap, or jacket.

Synthesis and Evaluation: A new design is created, using the most commonly found examples from extant pieces. The designer can explain every decision, without having to cite rare or out-of-period examples. The designer can also note where he or she may have deviated from the extant pieces, and discuss why.

These stages do overlap each other, and constructing deep knowledge is a never-ending process. We always begin with some sort of memory/recall/knowledge of the subject, and tease out comprehension as we apply. But it's in the synthesis and evaluation that one can really begin to achieve some mastery over the subject.

So what do you think about this? Does Bloom's Taxonomy apply to you and your field? How? Should it apply in the SCA? How?

Moving along...

My classes yesterday seemed to go very well. My polychrome class is down pretty solid- it helped to have done it twice at Pennsic. My monochrome class was a little bit rougher, but I think I communicated successfully what I wanted to, which is that that is a whole world of uncounted blackwork out there that should be explored, especially for the Elizabethan time period.

Moving ahead, I think I'm going to be working on two more classes: The first will be "Elizabethan Embroidery Emblems Explained". While driving to the site yesterday, I was reflecting on how the contextual Elizabethan understanding of motifs is missing from my knowledge- I know that these motifs meant something to their audience, in part due to their shared socialization, but I don't know what that is. For example, we (mostly) understand what "he's an ant, I'm a grasshopper" means. So using an image of an ant or a grasshopper would have meaning for ourselves and our audience. The Elizabethans had a similar and similarly complex language of symbols and metaphors, and I need to research that, and assimilate it into my schema, as best I can. (I'm suddenly reminded of a Star Trek episode and a culture that only dealt in metaphors.) This will absolutely help my understanding of the embroidery in it's time and place in history.

The other class I'm considering is "How to Share Your Joy: Tips for Teaching an SCA audience". My husband and I were discussing some of the classes we took at East Kingdom University yesterday. And he remarked that I should consider teaching a class for teachers- I'm an educator by trade, having done informal museum education while an undergrad, and then teaching formally in public schools over the past decade. My recent graduate school experience has trained me to be a facilitator for adult educators- a "teacher of teachers". So I think that class may be worthwhile as well. It's not an attempt to criticize- we have many, many knowledgeable people in the SCA. But not everyone is trained to think about HOW they are communicating and interpreting for their audience. Something as simple as "Know what your objective is. Know what you want students to understand when they walk out the door", could really help people create strong lessons that leave everyone with a positive feeling about the interaction.

Reflections

I taught a class on Late 16th/Early 17th C. English Polychrome embroidery. Here are the class notes: Polychrome Class Notes.

I feel like the class went very well- my goal to was to "root" polychrome embroidery in it's historical time and place, as well as to communicate what I see when I look at the embroidery.

Too often, I think that when "mistakes" are made, it's a matter of interpretation. The scale is off from the historical examples, the colors or use of white space are off, and this is something I tried to communicate. And it's also something I only truly understood after thousands of hours of looking at the same pictures, revisiting them again and again.

It's such a tricky thing. Because each extant piece was made by a person, there are bound to be variations. Nothing is true all the time, and we can always find exceptions and anomalies. What I try to communicate is what I see to be the most common- what I see again and again when I view extant examples. Sure, anyone can find the one random example, but I prefer to go with the things I see consistently, and can document to more than one item. It just feels more "right" to do that. It doesn't mean, however, that I know everything. I frequently feel a sense of panic over just how much I don't know. I learn new things all the time, and one of the reasons I love teaching is because I have the opportunity to learn from my students. I'm sharing what I see- but each person brings their own eye to it, so what I see may be different from what you see, and that's awesome. :)

I'm teaching this class again at East Kingdom University on 8/25, and I'm also teaching a class on 16th C. English Monochrome Embroidery. This one makes me a bit more nervous- I'm trying to do an overview of a century of a style of embroidery, and a style that I believe to be often misinterpreted. I may take on the sacred cow of counted reversible blackwork, and it will be interesting on a couple of levels. #1 is that is may not be as sacred a cow as I think it is, and #2, it's possible that my own confirmation bias may be playing into it. That's one of the most challenging things, I think. Am I honestly seeing what I think I'm seeing, or am I merely finding examples that confirm what I expect to find? I don't think it's confirmation bias, because I developed my theories from observation of the extant pieces, instead of looking for extant pieces to fit my theory. But it's still important to be mindful of the dangers.

I hope you've enjoyed this little glimpse into my thought process. :D Here's a progress pic from my shift:

Upcoming classes

I will be teaching at Pennsic XLI:

Late 16th Century English Polychrome Embroidery: This class will cover the historical context of late 16th century English polychrome embroidery. We will discuss materials, techniques, and meaning of this embellished, exquisite domestic art form. We will view many historical examples, including coifs, jackets and nightcaps. This class is a lecture/dicussion only.

I will also be teaching at EKU (East Kingdom University) on August 25th, in Bhakail:

Late 16th Century English Polychrome Embroidery: This class will cover the historical context of late 16th century English polychrome embroidery. We will discuss materials, techniques, and meaning of this embellished, exquisite domestic art form. We will view many historical examples, including coifs, jackets and nightcaps. This class is a lecture/dicussion only.

and

16th Century English Monochrome Embroidery: This class will cover the historical context of monochrome embroidery (colloquially called "blackwork") in 16th England. We will discuss materials, techniques, and design of this art form. This class is a lecture/discussion only.

I'm focusing on the historical context of both of these embroidery forms, in attempt to "train the eye" of my students. I find that there are a lot of videos that demonstrate techniques, and there are also a lot of classes that focus on the "how" instead of the "why" of embroidery. I really love the "why", and want to share that understanding. For instance, we often teach blackwork as a reversible, linear, counted form. But when we really examine the extant pieces, and the paintings, that sort of blackwork is a very small percentage, early in the century. The vast majority of monochrome embroidery, both extant and in portraits, is uncounted, often curvalinear, sometimes naturalistic, speckled, filled, representations of actual objects, such as plants, animals, and flowers. The reversible linear, counted blackwork is such a small part of monochrome embroidery, I'm really beginning to wonder why it is so often the focus of classes. But, I'm on my soapbox again. Please feel free to add any dissenting input in the comments. ;)

My class notes will be available on my wikispaces, as soon as I get them finalized.