Haplessly Crafty: Block Printing

A few samples of historically recreated printed textiles using modern materials. The folded squares at the front are handkerchiefs. Designs and printing by RL Fifield, 2013.

A few samples of historically recreated printed textiles using modern materials. The folded squares at the front are handkerchiefs. Designs and printing influenced by 18th century originals,  by RL Fifield, 2013.

I’m having some fun with block printing textiles recently. I’ve been experiencing a “sewing block” so I’ve moved on to playing with acrylic screen printing ink, foam brayers, and lino gouges. Nothing like getting out the stresses of the work day with a gouge in your hand. In recreating some of these textiles, I’ve realized the overall visual impact they must have had. For instance, the “shell pattern” at the right in the adjacent photo looks like scales. The patterns of printed textiles, mixed with the stripes, checks, and varying colors of the working woman’s wardrobe, contributed to the overall visually intense appearance.

It was a way of getting noticed, on a budget.

IMG_0922

Snapshot: Fabric Shopping in NYC

Tuesday, 2/12/2013, was, amazingly, a holiday at my place of employ. I took advantage of everyone else having a normal work day and went off to NYC’s Garment District. I have two motives when I visit that west side community, sandwiched between Penn Station and Times Square:

  • I’m urgently looking for something specific for a sewing project that is going on RIGHT NOW!
  • I’m trolling for possibilities. What do I think of this fabric for an 18th century handkerchief? Is the check quite right for an apron? How is the weight of this striped linen for a gown?
I made this 1894 outfit in college as part of my Stage Costuming class. It's unfortunately made of synthetics (and horror, a Batenburg lace parasol!). 1995.

I made this 1894 outfit in college as part of my Stage Costuming class. It’s unfortunately made of synthetics (and horror, a Batenburg lace parasol! and the color I wouldn’t choose again…and…). 1995.

Usually, it’s a little bit of both. I benefit from my spare style of Manhattan living because I can tromp off to the Garment District at the drop of a hat. I know this is an opportunity almost exclusive to New Yorkers on the North American continent. High-end retailers and bolt-end discounters smash together in the early 20th century commercial buildings, their gated elevators smelling of grease. The area is a little bit porn, a little bit discount electronics, and a whole lot of fabric business, with rolling racks of ready-to-wear pushing by you on the sidewalks. It is an industry that used to be present in many more cities. I started making historic repro dress when I was 13, finding a reasonable facsimile of a roller printed cotton in blue and white for an 1836 Past Patterns Gown. I lucked out in my fabric choice for that, but as a teenager, I chose lots of wrong fabrics with which to create historic dress. In my town, good fabrics weren’t available (and my parents did put the kibosh on too much fabric spending). I ended up choosing black cotton for a bustle ensemble because something more appropriate wasn’t available at Jo-An’s. The department store fabric department, which I remember visiting at Hutzler’s and Leggett’s when I was a kid, had long gone the way of the dodo. Before the Internet, most of America had turned into a textile wasteland.

RL Fifield 2013.

RL Fifield 2013.

I love the various concerns on 39th street bewteen 7th and 8th. I can always find something, be it unbleached linen, a soft spun cotton approximating 18th century lower grade cotton fabric, kid leather, or $10/yd black silk taffeta. I walk among the bolts, reaching for the free end, feeling the fiber of dozens of fabrics as I walk down the aisle. Is there poly in this? How would it drape? The greater the fire hazard, the greater the find. I’ve found great service  and fabrics in Amin, Fabrics For Less (which has been having an everything must go sale for the last 5 years), Gray Lines Linen Corp), and G&R. The negotiations are much the same, “It’s $10, buy 5 yards and I’ll give it to you for $8.” “For you, $20.” The only guys I don’t like are Ayazmoon. If you are a lady shopping there, you get a real runaround. “Anything for you sweetheart.” “How much is this?” I ask. “Whatever you want it to be, name a price.” It can take 15 minutes to get a price out of them, and I shop too fast for that.  Too bad, as they have nice sari fabrics and a beautiful array of silk taffetas.

Wanderlust Wednesday: Sewing in Sheffield

Stitchers inside Dewey Memorial Hall, Sheffield, Massachusetts.

Stitchers inside Dewey Memorial Hall, Sheffield, Massachusetts.

Sheffield resident Lisa R. and I met through Revolutionary War reenacting. Looking for ways to extend the fellowship of the hobby outside of encampments and to coax local crafters out of their homes, Lisa scheduled a couple of dates for a community sewing/craft day at Dewey Memorial Hall in Sheffield, Massachusetts. Where she will demonstrate the versatility of different machines and techniques, we recommend Quilter’s review for more information. Last Saturday’s was the first; the next is March 23. A small donation is asked for the rental costs for the building for the day.

Dewey Memorial Hall is one of those buildings where you inhale when you enter, you smell the wood and floor polish and you get a sense of its history. To the right when you enter is the library, and in the main room is a small stage and a kitchen. They hold numerous events there, including a pie contest, where townspeople judge the quality of dozens of entries.

While there was certainly a lot of 18th century activity going on (like Amy M. fitting my basted together stays and my draping Virginia A. for a gown), other attendees worked on dressmaking, doll assembly, and clothes darning. A Featherweight Singer was in attendance, as well as lots of knitting. A few scenic snowflakes fell and the room was filled with talk.

Lisa made a great big pot of warming soup, and many other good munchies were to be had:

Scandinavian Summer Vegetable Soup

4 carrots (1 1/2 cup)
3/4 cup peas
Cauliflower 1/2″ buds (1 cup)
2 potatoes (1/2 cup)
string beans (1/2 cup)
4 small radishes cut in 1/2
spinach (2 cups)
1/4 – 1/2 cup heavy cream
1 egg yolk
2 TBSP butter
2 TBSP flour
1/2 lb. shrimp
white pepper
Dill or parsley to serve
Place all veggies except spinach in pot with H2O and 2 teaspoons salt and boil uncovered 5 minutes or until tender. Add spinach and cook another 5 min. Strain liquid and leave in pot. Place veggies in a separate bowl. Melt 2TBSP butter and stir in 2TBSP flour.  Slowly add stock to paste and beat with a wire whisk. Beat in 1 cup milk. In a small bowl combine 1 egg yolk & 1/4 cup heavy cream. Whisk in 1 cup of hot soup 2TBSP at a time. Now reverse and slowly whisk cream back into soup. Add veggies and simmer (do not boil). Add 1/2 lb shrimp, 1/4 tsp white pepper, and simmer 3-5 minutes. Top with 2TBSP parsley or dill and serve.

Dewey Memorial Hall in Sheffield, Massachusetts, was built in 1887 to remember Orville Dewey.

Dewey Memorial Hall in Sheffield, Massachusetts, was built in 1887 to remember Orville Dewey.

Transportation Tuesday: Move Madison Square Garden NOW

LIRR entrance corridor. Andrew Leicester. Ghost Series, 1994.

Commuters rush through the LIRR entrance corridor past artwork that evokes the original and only Pennsylvania Station. Andrew Leicester. Ghost Series, 1994. Photo: RL Fifield.

If you enter Penn Station through the Long Island Rail Road entrance, you’ll see reliefs along the corridor that depict the tumbling Corinthian columns of McKim, Mead, and White’s Pennsylvania Station (1910). If you’d like to grumble along with me, please follow these links to my prior posts about the demolition of Penn Station here and here.

Michael Kimmelman (New York Times, Feb 8, 2013) recently pointed out a pivotal moment for redemption for Penn Station: Madison Square Garden’s permit is due for renewal.  Renew MSG in place and Penn Station maintains its identity of squalor and heartbreak. Kick the garden further west, provide more redevelopment potential for West Side redevelopment, and reinstate the rail station that makes this city tick. Crucially, Kimmelman points out that the Moynihan Station plan in the Farley Post Office is only a shadow of the original idea, looking more like Lautenberg Secaucus Station (read: boring and mostly empty 1980s mall-like space). It will only accomodate Amtrak, and the other 620,000 daily commuters will still be stifled underground in the current Penn Station. The spaces will hardly make a heart soar a la what we squandered in the 1960s; it’s as if we’ve given up that we deserve beauty.

(A momentary pause to consider MSG on Penn Station’s back –  I’m channeling how they killed Giles Corey during the Salem Witch Trials – by pressing him to death with stones in a feeble attempt to get him to confess he was a witch).

Can’t be done! Can’t be done! The suits line up and wave their hands dismissively.  But think about how Grand Central Terminal survived its transformation from a dangerous and dirty street-level Depot to world-class Terminal in the early 1910s, sending all its tracks underground and creating a world class station, allowing real estate development where a train yard and meatpacking concerns once stood, WHILE regular train service continued.

New York manages the miraculous as an everyday operating procedure. Let’s get it done.

The one, the only, the late, the great, Pennsylvania Station. Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division Washington, D.C. 20540 USA http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.print

Museum Monday: Get Rid of Those White Cotton Gloves. Time for Nitrile.

Stop doing this! Switch from cotton gloves to nitrile.

Stop doing this! Switch from cotton gloves to nitrile.

They’ve been with us for years. The basket of white cotton gloves we were taught to use to handle objects, to protect objects from the oils and dirt on our hands. Many of us have moved on to using nitrile, and here’s why the rest of you need to get on the bandwagon.

  1. You can’t get the gloves truly clean –  Don’t fool yourself. Washing them in the washing machine is not removing all the dirt from within the knit fabric of the gloves. You can see them graying. Do you want that dirt scratching photographs? Getting transferred to other objects?
  2. Loss of dexterity – Cotton gloves are very bulky and stretch during wear. They complicate handling jobs.
  3. Snagging and catching – and slippery at the same time!  – White cotton gloves can be pretty abrasive. Try handling gauze with them. Try handling an ethnographic object with a compromised surface, or a surface with materials applied on it. Snag city. But at the same time, cotton gloves are slippery when handling glass or ceramics. While cotton gloves have been marketed with dots on the fingertips for grip, those dots are generally an unstable plastic that can leave corrosive deposits and cause etching of metal objects (you might as well leave your unwashed fingerprint on the object).  Nitrile gloves provide a smooth surface for handling objects with complicated surfaces and just the right amount of grip.
  4. White cotton gloves are not a barrier between you and the object – But the object needs to be protected from me, right? Not the other way around? Wrong. Objects that may have been created with hazardous materials, treated with pesticides, or are stored where dangerous particulates (think asbestos, mouse feces carrying hanta virus, etc) may have been introduced are a risk to your health. But white cotton gloves aren’t a barrier. Nitrile gloves are.

Here’s my fav – Kimberly Clark Safeskin Powder-Free (absolute must – don’t want powder on the objects) Nitrile exam gloves.

I’m promoting nitrile because they don’t pose an allergy risk, like latex, nor do they have the potential to transfer contaminants to collections, like vinyl (and latex, as well). Yes, you need to throw away gloves. Yes, you have to order sizes to fit all of your staff members comfortably. And you need to be smart about it in order for them to protect you from possible contamination. Here’s a National Park Service Conserve-o-Gram about choosing gloves for museum work, with a really handy chart about choosing the right glove for the job.

There are certainly times where wearing any glove is dangerous for the object. Some objects require you have maximum dexterity and even nitrile can get in the way. Textile conservators doing stitching treatments can be hard pressed to do so in gloves. A good wash with soap and water prior to handling is good for the object (although wait! see below new research in 2017!) – and a second wash before eating, touching your face, or going home to your family is an absolute must for your health.

This is especially important for those of us who have started tours where visitors may come and touch artworks –  see Art, Design, and Architecture Museum and Woodrow Wilson Presidential Library – we should provide them the right glove for the experience.

Update: Excellent recent conservation research by Karin Van Der Pal (Twitter @Karin_vanderPalin support of collection stewardship indicates that washing hands accelerates the secretion of oils on fingers, making freshly washed hands more oily than they were before washing. Another vote for protecting yourself and collections with nitrile gloves, in my book, when you can (conservation treatment remains the outlier here).

Communities Past: Former Commerce in Rock Run, Harford County, MD

Rock Run United Methodist Church. Rock Run, Harford County, Maryland. RL Fifield 2007.

Rock Run United Methodist Church. Harford County was a site of early Methodist activity in America. Rock Run, Harford County, Maryland. RL Fifield 2007.

Driving through the countryside anywhere in America, you may pass any number of signs proclaiming towns that no longer exist. My grandfather was in the car  sometime in the 1990s, when we were driving on Rock Run Road toward the Susquehanna River. He pointed to a house on the left and said “that used to be the Rock Run Store.” He was born up the road a mile or so on the right, past the Rock Run Methodist Church. He couldn’t pick out the farm that day – perhaps it had been demolished, or memory had distorted its location. Bowmans have lived in the area since at least the 1780s (read a Bowman family probate inventory from Rock Run here). But the road now just looks as if it drives between farms. The industry on the river at the bottom of the hill is gone, including a brewery (read my post on Cox’s Rock Run Beer here). Fragments of a canal and a mill have been worked into a hiking trail along the river. The store is gone. A few farms trim the edges. Markers of effort during  the 18th and 19th century are gone.

Here’s an advertisement of some misdirected books belonging to a Rock Run resident that got shipped to the local store. Any genealogists in this area recognize the initials? Gallion family?

Rock RunMaryland Journal 03-08-1785

Overheard in the Subway…

Much of NYC’s life takes place underground. Last Tuesday was a holiday for my place of work, and I used the morning to get some errands for some projects done. On the subway, sometimes you are just traveling. This is what most commuters do, enter a sort of stasis between work and home. You might people watch, which is certainly an urban pastime. There are the colorful, the rude, the homeless, the people asking for money. It’s not as “heads down, me against the world” as some elsewhere-dwellers have described their perception of New York.

On the R train between Times Square and 8th Street, a group of older gentlemen sang doo wop. I always give to musicians on the trains. After the men strolled their song down the car, a tall blonde woman in red lipstick and wearing black walked in. Two women sat opposite. “Are you a model?” they asked her. “No, no,” said the woman. “We’ll, you should be.” “I’m only 5’8, too short,” she replied. The ladies across the car shook their head and continued along in their conversation, expressing disbelief repeatedly.

Beauty and Trash. At Columbus Circle. Great job on the case. RL Fifield 2013.

Beauty and Trash. At Columbus Circle. Great job on the case. RL Fifield 2013.

Tuesday was a day for music. An incredible violinist played at 59th street Columbus Circle as I waited to switch from a B train to a C train. You know you are good when people gravitate down the platform to hear you play. My fellow passengers stopped, as if in shock, and turned their face to her. In that moment, the trains fell still, as they sometime do, and the platforms were  filled with the song of this one violin.

Transit Tuesday: Subway Station Renovation – A Few Thoughts About Getting It Right

New York City’s subway opened in 1904. During an era of competing private lines that radiated from the heart of Manhattan into the boroughs, 468 stations were built through the completion of the Independent Subway in 1932. Time is hard on all of us, especially when you have to put up with steel dust, dropped food, people leaning on tiles, rainstorms dumping water into stations, and graffiti. Subway stations require renovation, and rolling around New York, you can tell what state our city and culture where in when the renovations were completed. I snapped a few shots recently of station renovations, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

68th Street Station - Hunter College. While the station's platform level hasn't been subjected to an insensitve renovation like Bowling Green, it sits in a sort of weird stasis. Where the tile border has spalled away from the wall, the original motif has been painted in. The mix of white tile on the wall connects with poorly renovated bathrooms in tenements across New York City. This heavily used station deserves better.

68th Street Station – Hunter College. While the station’s platform level hasn’t been subjected to an insensitve renovation like Bowling Green, it sits in a sort of weird stasis. Where the tile border has spalled away from the wall, the original motif has been painted in. The mix of white tile on the wall connects with poorly renovated bathrooms in tenements across New York City. This heavily used station deserves better.

Astor Place station was renovated in 1986. It gets points for the preserved tilework near the turnstiles, and the reproduction kiosk at street level, but they cheaped out on the tilework that stretches down the platform. Still, this renovation attempted to capture the era of construction during a hard time for the city, much more than the 1978 renovation of Bowling Green Station, which draped the neoclassical details of the station in garish red-orange tile.

Astor Place station was renovated in 1986. It gets points for the preserved tilework near the turnstiles, and the reproduction kiosk at street level, but they cheaped out on the tilework that stretches down the platform. Still, this renovation attempted to capture the era of construction during a hard time for the city, much more than the 1978 renovation of Bowling Green Station, which draped the neoclassical details of the station in garish red-orange tile.

Doing it right, the newly renovated Bleecker Street Station preserved historic materials and combined them with reproduction tiles to reclaim a historic IRT station that had been blah'd by an earlier 1950s renovation.

Doing it right, the newly renovated Bleecker Street Station preserved historic materials and combined them with reproduction tiles to reclaim a historic IRT station that had been blah’d by an earlier 1950s renovation. Not only does it bring back the original design of the station, it puts it in greater stead to weather the future.

The Gardening Itch

At this point during the winter, I start to get the itch for digging in the dirt. Alas, it’s a rather pointless itch as I must confine my green thumb activities to a few boxes hanging from the windows of my Manhattan apartment. But as I pointed out in my post on 18th century year-round gardening, seasonal gardening is a luxury. In the past, each month had purpose in tending the supply of vegetables to the family, whether tending to wintering crops, fostering seed, or getting a jump on the growing season so that green would return to the table as soon as possible.

A Treatise on Gardening was published in Richmond, VA in 1793. I imagine northern neighbors would have to rely on dried goods all the longer. Here are gardening tasks for the month of February:

“So Asparagus, make your beds and fork up the old ones, sow Sugar Loaf Cabbages, latter end transplant Cauliflowers, sow Carrots and trasnfplant for seed, prick out endive for seed, sow Lettuce, Melons in hot beds, sow Parsnips, take up the old roots and prick out for seed, sow Peas and prick them into your hot beds, sow Radishes twice, plant Strawberries, plant out Turnips for seed, spade deep and make it fine, plant Beans.” (p.56)

Curious Objects: Portrait Collages at the National Portrait Gallery

Collage of engraved portraits on exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery in "A Will of their Own: Judith Sargent Murray and Women of Achievement in the Early Republic."

Collage of engraved portraits on exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery in “A Will of their Own: Judith Sargent Murray and Women of Achievement in the Early Republic.”

I was killing time before my talk for the Washington Conservation Guild on February 7. The old Patent Office serves as the home to two Smithsonian Institution museums, the National Portrait Gallery, and the American Art Museum. The Patent Office building began construction in 1836 and its third floor interior is a mid-19th century exhibition hall to behold, in riotous color.

On the first floor, the National Portrait Gallery had a few exhibitions around various themes: Civil War portraits, African American portraits, Amelia Earhart, Civil War generals photographed by Matthew Brady, portraits of early prominent American (a bit boring). But in “A Will of their Own: Judith Sargent Murray and Women of Achievement in the Early Republic,” the curator highlighted Theodosia Burr Alston 1783–1813 using a small engraving among a page of mounted engravings (and a few silhouettes), cut, labeled with the name and date, and a cataloging number.

Unfortunately, the exhibition label only spoke of Theodosia, and not about the curious arrangement of collected visages of prominent persons. The credit line reveals nothing, reading “National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution.” It’s likely these are 19th century assemblages, used to catalog the appearances of notable Americans. It is a window into past museum practice. Their peers include cataloged specimens at the National Museum of Natural History, insects numbered and stuck on a pin.

It’s a pity that the exhibition chat couldn’t have revealed more about these peculiar assemblages.

Collage of engraved portraits on exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery in "A Will of their Own: Judith Sargent Murray and Women of Achievement in the Early Republic."

Collage of engraved portraits on exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery in “A Will of their Own: Judith Sargent Murray and Women of Achievement in the Early Republic.”