Signed Tapestries (part 2): Weavers

The first part of this double-post looked at the inclusion of artist's signatures in tapestry designs and their subsequent weavings. This post will examine the inclusion of weavers' initials in Dovecot's practice.

Detail from Lord of the Hunt, 1912-1916 1919-1924, designed by William Skeoch Cumming, woven by John Glassbrook, David Lindsay Anderson, Gordon Berry, George Cribbes, Ronald Cruickshank, Stanley Ebbutt, Richard Gordon, John Louttit and James Wood.

Lord of the Hunt was the first tapestry to be completed at the studio, woven from 1912 to 1924 and interrupted by the First World War. It was the war that led to the poignant inclusion of the initials of master weavers John Glassbrook and Gordon Berry. Their initials are set behind a bobbin and shears on the lower border of the tapestry; not only do the commemorate the weavers, they mark the extent of weaving that had been achieved when war was declared.

Detail of The Admirable Crichton, 1927-1930, designed by Alfred Priest, woven by David Lindsay Anderson, Ronald Cruickshank, Stanley Ebbutt and John Louttit.

Detail of The Admirable Crichton, 1927-1930, designed by Alfred Priest, woven by David Lindsay Anderson, Ronald Cruickshank, Stanley Ebbutt and John Louttit.

Initials continued to be included on the front of tapestries up to 1939. The images above show the Head Weaver David Lindsay Anderson's initials on the lower border of The Admirable Crichton, with the weavers initials above the top border.

After the Second World War the practice remained the same, but at some point initials were moved to the back of tapestries. This was not a sudden change but happened gradually. The images below show the weavers' initials and Dovecot symbol (a subject for another blog post!) on the selvedge that is turned back on the tapestry.

As a researcher these initial serve a practical purpose. The archival information about Dovecot's history is patchy at best. Studio weavers are at risk of becoming anonymous if their names are not recorded in surviving archives or included on the physical tapestry. Some Dovecot tapestries do not include any initials!

In recent years the studio has been at pains to ensure that this does not happen in the future. There remain some projects that do not have an appropriate space for initials, such as quick, slow illustrated in the last post. However, in most cases it is possible, as in these small Peter Blake designed tapestries woven by Naomi Robertson - her initials are on the side of the mounts:

Signed Tapestries (part 1): Artist-Designers

Whilst researching the 1950s at Dovecot, under the Directorship of Harry Jefferson Barnes and John Noble, I came across correspondence relating to the inclusion of an artist-designer's signature in a tapestry. The artist in question was Nadia Benois. On 5 November 1955 Benois wrote to Sax Shaw (Dovecot's Artistic Director) enclosing a copy of her signature. The studio was weaving a tapestry to one of her designs, Night and Day, and she expected her signature to be included on the front.

Just a few months earlier, on 7 August, Director John Noble had written the following to Shaw about Benois' tapestry:

I am entirely in favour of tapestries being marked to show designers and weavers. It is an old tradition and a good one, interesting for posterity. But I am not sure about the wisdom of signing them on the front. I feel that it suggests 'wool pictures' rather than tapestry and that the signature is apt to get in the way of the design to a much greater extent that it does in the painting.

These letters, found in the private archive of the Shaw family, illustrates that there was no 'correct' way of incorporating an artist's signature into a tapestry design - it was constantly up for debate. I thought it would be a good idea, therefore, to survey some examples from Dovecot's history and explore the debate from 1945 to the present day.

Detail from Marine Still Life, 1949, designed by Edward Wadsworth, woven by Richard Gordon, Dovecot Studios. Private Collection.

Detail of black and white photograph of Three Figures, 1950, weavers and location unknown.

After the Second World War, the Directors of Dovecot (then called the Edinburgh Tapestry Company), decided to invite famous contemporary artists to submit designs to the studio; the Directors then selected a number of them to be woven. The Directors (all members of the Bute family) were inspired by activities in France but also encouraged by the Council of Industrial Design. It was believed that collaborating with such artists would revitalise tapestry weaving, boost its profile and make the works easier to exhibit and sell. The name of the artist was an essential part of the marketing of the tapestries.

When Noble and Barnes became Directors in 1954 they decided to move away from using external artists as tapestry designers. Instead, they employed Sax Shaw as an in-house Artistic Director and tapestry designer. It was hoped that this change would save money (from artist fees) and make the tapestries more salable in a world that was increasingly aware of 'design' in the home. However, Shaw continued to include signatures on the tapestries he designed and, of course, in the Benois tapestry discussed above.

Detail of Still Life, 1950s, designed by Sax Shaw, weaver unknown. Private Collection.

Detail of Theseus and the Minotaur, 1956, designed by Sax Shaw, weavers unknown. Private Collection

The practice of including a tapestry designer's signature has continued to the present day. However it is not a consistent feature of tapestries at Dovecot. From the 1960s onwards signatures have only been included where necessary (e.g. if the artist or patron insists) or if it is able to fit comfortable within the design. Here are a couple of examples:

Aberdeen '64, 1964, designed by Archie Brennan, woven by Archie Brennan, Douglas Grierson, Maureen Hodge and Fred Mann. Aberdeen Art Gallery & Museums Collection.

Detail of Olive Terrace, 2009, designed by Barbara Rae, woven by Douglas Grierson, Naomi Robertson and Jonathan Cleaver. Private Collection.

There are some obvious examples of tapestries that have no appropriate space for a signature. This is especially the case when the tapestry is not meant as a simple wall hanging:

Tapestry woven for quick, slow, 2010 by Claire Barclay, woven by David Cochrane. Arts Council Collection.

Tapestry Circles and Green, 2011, David Poston, Bangle of welded stainless steel wire, tapestry woven cottons.Collaborative piece with Dovecot Studios, Edinburgh Jonathan Cleaver.

So far in this discussion of signatures the weavers have been absent. The second installment of this blog 'Signed Tapestries (part 2): Weavers' will examine Dovecot's inclusion of weavers' initials. Here's a taster of what's to come:

Tapestry and Reproduction: a useful research structure?

I am finally taking time to digest the papers of the 'Tapestry and Reproduction' CAA conference session. First I'll give a round up of the papers, then reflect on the value of 'tapestry and reproduction' as a means of inquiry for 20th and 21st Century tapestry practice.

Lorraine Karafel from Parsons the New School for Design spoke about 'reproduction and change in Raphael's designs for tapestries'. Lorraine explored the changes and alterations made to the borders of subsequent weavings of Raphael's Acts of the Apostles tapestry designs for the Sistine Chapel. These new borders were often designed by an artist contemporary to the new weaving and could be personalised with the iconography of the patron. Jonathan Kline, of Temple University, also discussed the Acts of the Apostles but focusing on three sets of tapestries all of which deviate significantly from Raphael's original cartoons. Jonathan questioned whether these sets would have been valued for their connection to celebrity artist Raphael, or for their own material, style and subject matter.

Susan Wagner of Columbia University moved the session forward in time with her paper on Boucher's 18th Century tapestry designs. Susan reinforced the fact that at least two of Boucher's oil paintings were made specifically for reproduction in tapestry. She asked: 'In what ways can we consider these works as being at once paintings and tapestries?'

Virginia Gardner Troy's paper examined the critical reception of the tapestries commissioned by Marie Cuttoli in the 1930s to 1960s. This subject provided the perfect paper with which to precede my talk as Dovecot would never have made tapestries designed by famous contemporary artists had it not been for Cuttoli's work in France.

As is often the case in conference sessions, the most exciting element was question time. I felt that the questions at the end of this panel were particularly astute and brought up many more issues than had been answered by the papers. Particularly, was the notion of 'tapestry as a means for reproducing painting' a valuable method of research and investigation? My response would be that it is limited. Though it is of great use for the Renaissance period up to the nineteenth century, There are many more centuries for which I do not consider it relevant. It is unlikely that Coptic tapestries were woven from paintings. It implies a hierarchy in which a painting holds the higher ground - but was this the case in the Medieval period? For example, were the painted cartoons of the Lady and the Unicorn held in higher esteem than the paintings? I suspect not. It is also problematic as we enter the twentieth century. Dovecot's collaborative activities with artists as designers has in many ways sustained a connection between painting and tapestry as many of these artists are indeed painters. However the relationship between each painting and tapestry is far more complex and nuanced than a simple reproduction. In the case of independent artist-weavers, I suspect for many the idea of reproducing a painting of tapestry does not play any part in their practice. There are of course some for whom painting and tapestry go hand in hand, but there are also others who do not paint at all. This is not a criticism of the CAA panel. The purpose of the session was to explore this very issue and the papers selected were all really well written and covered a rich and varied selection of topics.

My conclusion therefore is that there is no 'one-size-fits-all' method for studying tapestry. Each researcher has their own subjective views, and each weaver their own way of working. If I were to put forward what I think is most important, it would be to approach the topic with an open mind and begin, always, with the tapestry itself.

Tamielle - a social enterprise

For Christmas, and as an early wedding present, my Mum gave me this:

It is a beautiful hand-embroidered handkerchief with a print of an Edwardian bride.

It was made by a company called tamielle. Initiated by designer Tamar Kovner who works with developing communities to create ethical and highly desirable handmade products. One such series of products is the Handkerchief Club. Each handkerchief is made in a workshop in a deprived area of Bulgaria near Veliko Tarnovo. The boxes are made by hand by a man names Elijah and within each is a small note inscribed with the name of the embroiderer. Tamar does not simply send out her designs, but has formed a personal collection with the women of the workshop, spending time in their homes getting to know them. It was such a special gift, in more ways than one.

tamielle.com

tamielle.com

The Minotaur in Tapestry

The story of Theseus and the Minotaur can be found in Plutarch's The Rise and Fall of Athens. Theseus was the illegitimate son of Aegeus, ruler of Athens. Athens had been defeated by Minos of Crete and every nine years Athens was ordered to pay tribute in the form of seven young men and seven young women (anybody spotting the inspiration for The Hunger Games?). On their arrival on Crete, the youths were sent into a labyrinth which was inhabited by the Minotaur a vicious beast half-man half-bull. When Theseus first arrived in Athens (as a young man) tribute was due and he volunteered to go. Though Plutarch wrote that the details of the story differ from author to author, it is said that Theseus defeated and killed the Minotaur and led the other 13 tributes back to Athens safely.

Le Minotaure (1928) Pablo Picasso, black chalk and paper on canvas, National Museum of Modern Art, Pompidou Centre, Paris. Donated by Marie Cuttoli 1963.

The minotaur first features in a twentieth century tapestry in 1935. Marie Cuttoli owned a picture by Picasso of Le Minotaure and commissioned a tapestry of it from an Aubusson workshop. Picasso's image does not reflect a specific point in the story of the minotaur. The artist visited the subject of the minotaur repeatedly in his prints and drawings; this particular image is thought to be the first and is concerned with the grotesque combination of bull and man. It is an uneasy image, as if the legs of the man are struggling to escape from the head of the bull. It is an unlikely image for tapestry: it has a plain background and the central figure is executed as a line drawing.

Theseus and the Minotaur (1943-44) designed by Marc Saint-Saens, woven Aubusson, 284 x 478 cm, National Museum of Modern Art, Pompidou Centre, Paris

The subject of the Minotaur appears again almost a decade later in a tapestry designed by Marc Saint-Saens. Saint-Saens chose to focus on the moment that the minotaur was killed by Theseus. It is a bloody image as theseus plunges his sword into the bull's neck. His treatment of the subject and its translation into tapestry is in keeping with French tapestries of this period. Saint-Saens and his colleagues (includign Jean Lurcat and Dom Roberts) employed bold bright colours and plentiful detail to create weavings that took advantage of the unique nature of tapestry. This is in contrast to the Picasso piece which is essentially a drawing enlarged and copied into tapestry. Interestingly, the Minotaur is no longer half-man but is all-bull. It is reminiscent of bull fights and we may think this was the tapestry's subject were it not for Theseus' ancient dress. Given the political situation in France at this time, it is not surprising that Saint-Saens chose to focus on the moment of the Minotaur's defeat. Theseus takes on the role of France overcoming the fascist occupation of the Nazis.

Theseus and the Minotaur (1956) designed by Sax Shaw, weavers unknown, woven at Dovecot Studios.

detail of Theseus and the Minotaur

A Dovecot tapestry of Theseus and the Minotaur was woven in 1956 and designed by Sax Shaw, then artistic director. Shaw was very influenced and inspired by French tapestry designers and often adopted their imagery. However, he used these images and motifs in very different ways. His version of Theseus is more simplified and less violent that Saint-Saens'. Theseus' arm is raised, about to strike. Movement is suggested by the swirling patterns of solid colour, typical of Shaw's design style. This work makes the most explicit reference to the story as 14 tributes can be seen in the background (though it really ought to be 13).

Topics like this are one of my favourite parts of research: selecting a particular theme, image or effect and tracing its origins and development in the woven medium. I'm sure there will be many more to come.

Making Connections

There hasn't been much blog activity recently. Not because my research has ceased or the weavers have stopped weaving, but because I am in my third (and final) year - a time when editing and writing overtake active research.

I have been struggling with this stage - its doesn't involve looking at or feeling tapestries, delving into archives or visiting interesting places. It involves sitting at my desk staring at a screen or hundreds of files day after day. It is at times very solitary and frustrating, but I am also trying to remember how fortunate I am to have the space to think. I remind myself that when I am back at work I will not have such a luxury!

One real benefit of the editing process is that I am beginning to better understand the connections that can be made across my thesis, cutting through the chronological divisions of its chapters. For example, the issues of church decoration that influenced West's design for the Gould Memorial Tapestry are the same ones that Joyce Conwy Evans had to think about in the Canterbury Cathedral Altar Frontal. Both tapestries needed to feature religious iconography, fit in with the surrounding interior design and be visible to a large audience from a distance (both pictured above).

Numbered cartoon for Cycle of Life (1957-8) designed by Sax Shaw

The shadow (or light?) from French tapestry weaving was a constant presence throughout 1945 to 1970 in Dovecot's practice. Immediately after the war French tapestry became popular in Britain thanks to a major exhibition at the Victoria & Albert Museum in 1947. The successful resurgence of contemporary tapestry weaving under the guidance of John Lurcat was one of the influencing factors in Dovecot's decision to collaborative with living artists. Lurcat's influence continued into the 1950s when Sax Shaw was Artistic Director. Shaw adopted the French artist's methods - including the creation of full scale cartoons numbered with the corresponding colours to be used (images above). Tapestry by numbers indeed. By the 1960s, French tapestry was not so much an influence, but a parallel. The Lausanne Biennales, begun in 1962, enabled to Dovecot to promote its tapestries on an international level and develop its communication with international tapestry weavers.

On another note, I have two new reviews on RIO Magazine: Scotland Can Make It! (on at the People's Palace, Glasgow) and the annual Scottish Furniture Makers Association Exhibition. A review of Nuno Japanese Textiles currently on at Dovecot will be up shortly.

If I had to choose...

If I had to choose a favourite tapestry in the current Dovecot exhibition it would have to be Sky Cathedral II (1974) designed by Lousie Nevelson and woven by Gordon Brennan, Fiona Mathison, Neil McDonald and Jean Taylor.

photo

This tapestry took me completely by surprise. Before seeing the exhibition, I would have chosen Claire Barclay's quick, slow (2010) or Overall (1967) designed by Harold Cohen. I had only ever seen images of Sky Cathedral II and though keen on Nevelson's work the pictures of the tapestries she designed weren't really doing it for me. I think the nature of my encounter with it in the gallery had a big impact. Before reaching it in the exhibition, you come across an altarpiece designed by Joyce Conwy Evans. It is dazzling full of rich gold and bronze and bejewelled with embroidery. As you walk past it and round a corner you are suddenly met by the cooler, enveloping Nevelson.

photo

Photos rarely do a tapestry justice (the ones above certainly don't). They can't convey the deep vibrating blue yarn contrasted with the technically complex pale areas of weaving. This is a tapestry outstanding not only in its design and conception, but in its execution. The sense of texture, a reference to the three dimensional quality of the maquette on which the design was based, is achieved through a variety of techniques which are captivating in their delicate detail.

It is captivating.

 Details from Sky Cathedral (1982), Lousie Nevelson, Smithsonian Collection, Washington DC

A little valentine rug post

In 2010 the artist Willie Rodger commissioned a cheeky wee rug from Dovecot to one of his own designs. In the spirit of Valentine's Day, here it is:

The Wee Romp 2010 Willie Rodger, made by Jonathan Cleaver, Private Collection, all photos courtesy Dovecot Studios

I haven't spoken much about Dovecot's production of rugs, as the period of my thesis stops before rug tufting was introduced at the studio. Rugs are, not surprisingly, faster to make and therefore more affordable. They provide extra revenue which can help to support the tapestry weaving element  of the studio. Rug tufting is the only part of Dovecot production which includes a mechanised tool - the tufter. It looks a cross between a drill and a gun, and shoots little forks into the supporting canvas of the rug, from back to front. Here are some images Jonathan took during the tufting process:

This pictures are taken of the back of the work, which is where the tufter stands. It can be a messy process, as you can see from the loose bits of wool stuck to the canvas, with Jonathan finding pieces of wool felted into the pockets of his jeans days later! The use of mechanised tufter does take away some of the artistic control of the weaver, but only to a small extent. More than one colour can be fed through the tufter, so the weavers still use colour blending to achieve different interpretations of design. Plus, the more intricate the design, the more skilled the weaver needs to be at controlling the tufter. It can easily run away itself (I've tried it!).

Once the tufting is complete, the back of the rug is sealed using latex and another layer of canvas. When it's dried, the rug is cut away from the frame and laid flat. The front of the rug is then smoothed using a machine which looks a little like a small lawn mower, with a hoover attached to suck up the trimmed pieces of yarn.

Hey presto, you have a rug!

Tapestry Biographies

'This is a book of tales about the lives that buildings lead...'
(The Secret Lives of Buildings, p.9)

Inspiration for this blog post struck on my flight to my parent's house for Christmas. Though I was in the mood for a bit of Charles Dickens, I decided to take a book which had been on my bedside table, waiting patiently to be read: The Secret Lives of Buildings by Ed Hollis, Lecturer in Interior Design, ECA (now part of University of Edinburgh). The intention of the book is to give buildings individual biographies, as a balance to the numerous existing biographies of architects.

I have always been interested in the use of biography as an art historical tool. This partly stems from an interest in technical art history, as taught at Glasgow University. The method involves looking at the life of each object, it's meaning, creation, life etc. Ed Hollis' book struck a particular chord with my research because, though there are numberous biographies and monographs on the individuals who designed for the tapestry studio, there are very few for the tapestries themselves. So, what tales can they tell?

Have you seen these tapestries?

There are some tapestries which have not been seen or recorded for decades; they exist only in archives and black and white photographs, despite the efforts of Dovecot and other interested parties. These include:

Three Figures, 1940s, designed by Henry Moore, woven at Dovecot Studios

Vision After the Sermon (Jacob and the Angel), c.1947, based on a painting by Gauguin, woven at Dovecot Studios

 Where have they gone? These two tapestries were woven shortly after WWII when Dovecot was creating a new identity for itself, weaving designs by contemporary artists - Gauguin was the exception and was most likely woven very early on, in order to create some works to show prospective artists what they could achieve. This is not a case of the tapestries being lost; rather, their lives have been lost. Working with archives is always liable to be hit and miss and some objects such as these have disappeared with very little trace left behind. Their biographies are necessarily short.

Changing Hands

Many of Dovecot's biggest and profitable tapestries were corporate/public commissions. These include Cycle of Life (1958, Sax Shaw) for Warriston Crematorium, Genesis (1970, Robert Stewart) for Strathclyde University and Had Gadya suite (1986, Frank Stella) for PepsiCo. But, as the current recession has illustrated, companies and organisations are not fixed, and are prone to change, especially when it comes to their physical location. In some cases, when a company moves from the building a tapestry was originally intended for, the weaving may be gifted to a eminent member of staff on their retirement, or put into an auction for sale. Their are two examples of incidents such as this leading to an interesting new chapter in the tapestry's life.

BP Tapestry, 1966, designed by Harold Cohen, woven at Dovecot Studios

The BP Tapestry, designed by Harold Cohen, was commissioned by BP for their new building in London. The weaving of this tapestry, and the collaborative process which evolved between, is an interesting story in itself, to be explored another time. When BP eventually moved from its 1960s location, Brittania House, in 1994 the company had to decide what to do with the tapestry. At over 26 feet long it was unlikely to find a comfortable new home in an office environment. Instead, it was given to the University of Hull, where is now hangs in the university library.

Five Gates of London, 1975, designed by John Piper, woven at Dovecot Studios

The tapestry shown above was woven for an insurance company, Sedgwick Forbes, for the entrance foyer of their new offices on Whitechapel High Street, London. As you can see, the tapestry was designed in a similar way to a theatre backdrop, covering the full height of the wall. For the design, Piper visited the print collection of the Guildhall Print Room, in the City of London, and chose five of the City's historic gates. Many of them can be seen in this print. Sedgwick Forbes was eventually purchased by a larger financial firm, and the tapestry was put up for auction. With such a large tapestry, it is not surprising that it was bought by a gallery, rather than a private collection. The tapestry was purchased by the Guildhall Art Gallery, situated in the City of London.

Five Gates of London, Guildhall Art Gallery

In the years since Piper drew his design for the tapestry, the Guildhall's print collection has moved to the London Metropolitan Archives, a far less historic location. The Guildhall Print Room became part of the entertaining space of the building and, by happy coincidence, is now home to the tapestry.

Stolen!

Portrait of Mr John Noble (1979) has had one of the most adventurous lives, of all Dovecot's works. Designed by Archie Brennan and depicting the former Director of Dovecot, the portrait was stolen along with other items from the Noble family's home at Ardkinglas. Such was the disappointment of the family that a replacement was woven in 1981. Thanks to some police work, the original was eventually recovered!

Other Tapestries in Paris

In addition to the Gobelins, I visited the Jean Lurcat Museum in Angers, to see some of the tapestries designed by the man often held responsible for the renaissance in modern tapestry in France and beyond. Again, photography was not allowed but some images can be seen on the website, linked above. My overall feeling was one of disappointment. Lurcat has a very distinctive style, often featuring bright, almost acidic colours and supernatural or religious imagery. Visually they are striking but overwhelm the tapestry element - they are woven so finely you have to look quite close to realise what they are. In addition to this, many of his designs, especially the enormous suite The Song of the World (Le Chant du Monde) feature large expanses of black. The hours spent by the weavers on this must have been mind-numbingly dull and it seems a waste of tapestry's potential as a medium.

So, leaving aside Lurcat, here are a selection of photographs of other tapestries seen in Paris. I would encourage anyone visiting Paris to go to the Cluny Museum, now called the National Museum of the Middle Ages, and the Musee des Arts Decoratifs.

Augustus and the Sybil, early 16th Century, National Museum of the Middle Ages, Netherlands

Detail of above

Crucifixion, 16th Century, National Museum of the Middle Ages, Brussels; this is an exquisite tiny tapestry

The Art of Sword Forging - Tubalcain & Giohargus, 1st quarter of the 16th Century, National Museum of the Middle Ages, Netherlands; this tapestry was part of a wonderful exhibition about swords, which also featured a screening of Monty Python and the Holy Grail!

The Liberal Arts, c.1520, National Museum of the Middle Ages, Tournai

Detail of above

Sacred Love - Tapestry with the Arms of Guy de Baudreuil, 1515-1520, Bruges, Musee des Arts Decoratifs