I teach a great deal, which I love doing.   Yet occasionally I relish the opportunity to learn from someone else – someone who has different experiences and who causes me to look at my own process in a different way. Last week I took a class in natural dyeing at Shakerag in Sewanee, TN with Charllotte and Sophena Kwon of Maiwa. When I immerse myself in a class such as this, I know that I will come away with new understandings but I can never be sure what the lessons will be.

Charllotte organized a week that included dyeing  cellulose and protein fibers in many different dyes, combinations of dyes, and with some ferrous applications. The palette was extensive and yet I knew that we were just scratching the surface of what is possible.

We used the classic dyes – those that have been tried and true over many years and used in production and industry in different parts of the world. When one invests so much time preparing and mordanting fibers, it’s important to have the best dyes possible and ones that will last as long as the fiber. All the dyeing was done using formulas that are easily repeated.  Maiwa produces a line of naturally dyed clothing and as a result they have refined their processes and dye choices. We found plenty of inspiration in Maiwa’s collection of masterfully dyed fabrics from all over the world.

When it became time to dye with indigo, I was surprised that we used chemical vats reduced with thiourea dioxide. Both Charllotte and I learned the organic indigo vats from Michel Garcia, where the reduction comes from plants or fruit sugars.  I have spent the last 8 years using only these organic vats in my studio work: how to start them, to read them, keep them alive, and dye successfully with them. I didn’t think I would ever return to the chemical vats.

It was a revelation to be re-introduced to the “thiox vat”, a real “work-horse” indigo vat that is most appropriate for quick samples or when a hard-working vat is needed for a group of people or an intense dyeing period. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the dominant smell of the vat came from the natural indigo and not the reduction chemical.

We made 8 indigo vats one morning and all the vats worked successfully well into the night.  The organic vats would have required more rest time, more fussing, and ultimately may not have been as rewarding for the dyers in such a setting. The thiox vats were not without maintenance; we checked the pH, added thiox or lye water as necessary, and more indigo when needed.

The lesson for me last week was to always keep an open mind. My studio practice will continue to include an organic indigo vat. Had I not spent these years committed to these organic vats, I wouldn’t understand them and they would not be an integral part of my studio. But I left last week’s class with a new attitude about choosing a process most appropriate for the setting. I am sure that there will  be a few chemical indigo vats in my future.

Last fall, I was in China for the 9th International Shibori Symposium (9ISS). Following the conference, I travelled with 20 other adventurers on a remarkable tour of the Silk Road in Xinjiang Province. We began at the Xinjiang Regional Museum in Urumqi.  My first introduction to this part of the world was through Elizabeth Wayland Barber’s book, Mummies of Urumqi. We viewed these mummies and dozens of remarkable textiles dating back 2,000-3,000 years. I couldn’t help but think about the fibers, the colors, and of course the dyes: brilliant, deep reds that have truly survived the test of time. Madder is the dye. It has been documented. I have never seen such richness.

Early one morning we visited an animal market in Kashgar.  This is where locals came to buy and sell camels, goats, donkeys, and of course sheep. What struck me as significant were the different colors of sheep. Today, in the larger commercial wool industry, nearly every color has been bred out, leaving only pristine white wool. White fiber is typically where we begin our dyeing.

When the starting point for dyeing is already shaded with tones of brown, beige, and grey, the colors we dye will take on an added depth and richness. Michel Garcia refers to this the DVD, Colors of the Americas. He begins with dark colored wools to obtain near black with combinations of madder, cochineal and indigo. Two thousand years ago in China, it’s likely that there was very little white wool. Naturally, the question I ask is “what if I use different colors of animal fibers in my woven textiles and dye the fabric afterwards for various shades from a single dye bath?”

It proved a challenge to find commercial sources of colored wools in a weight suitable for my weaving. I settled for alpaca, which was readily available in a variety of grey and brown, light to dark. I wove fabric with multiple shades in the warp, and then chose some of those yarns for the weft.

I have grasped a deeper appreciation for fiber and natural color. Our starting point deeply affects the ultimate result. We’re not just dyeing cloth, but yarn and ultimately the fiber itself. I have a new appreciation for diversity of that fiber. Many of our local breeders raise naturally-colored sheep, but these wools rarely become commercially spun yarns. During the plenary sessions at 9ISS both Zhao Feng, Director of the China National Silk Museum and Alejandro De Avila, Director of the Ethnobotanical Gardens in Oaxaca Mexico, referred to similar historical fabrics, from their respective countries. Each of the fabrics was woven in a simple check pattern of natural brown and white fiber. The fabrics were resisted with similar tie-dye processes and then dyed red. Resourceful and creative weavers and dyers have used naturally colored yarns for centuries.

The presentations by both Zhao Feng, and Alejandro de Avila, as part of the 9ISS proceedings, may be viewed here.