first steps with woad

Over the winter I read everything I could find about woad, including what must be my longest ever loan from the library (nearly five months... so far): Jamieson B Hurry's 'The Woad Plant and its dye', originally published in 1930 and apparently considered the resource on woad. It covers the biology of the woad plant, its cultivation, manufacture of woad dye, mediaeval and 'modern' dye vats, woad history and economics, use in art and medicine, the word woad in language and place-names, and the bit I still have to read: "the death of a great industry".

Ian Howard of Woad-Inc has a mission to return woad to its status as a great industry. I had joined a morning workshop at Woad Barn in Norfolk to learn what I could. Ian outlined his experience of growing the plant including how he got into it in the first place (even before the Spindigo Project!), and later learned the process to make woad (indigo) pigment, and from this to dyeing with it. Woad-Inc now sells various woad/indigo-dyed clothes and soft furnishings, soaps, candles, and knitting wool as well as the pigment and woad seed. While the other participants prepared silk scarves for dyeing with shibori I snuck off with Ian to put my organic cottons through the test, plus a four-dip trial on prima to compare with that done last year in indigo. I'll post about these soon. In terms of doing-the-dyeing there doesn't seem much difference between working with a woad or indigo vat (I think) but it was definitely worth going to learn first-hand considering Ian's years of experience with all aspects of the dye. I have bought a jar of pigment and some seed and now need some equipment and, ahem, a suitable place to keep the vat. I have a cunning plan...

It was also good to have a week's holiday: the weekend was spent in Norfolk with an old student friend, and I visited friends and family on the way up and back. It's a long time since I've travelled around England, I had forgotten what a lovely place it is. Taking time, I pootled around on A roads, through towns, villages and forest parks. This way I could really appreciate changes in regional character crossing from one county into another. So much of English (Western) culture is the same but architecturally regional differences are something to be cherished.



Pictures. Top: Dyed scarves and my test pieces airing and drying outside the dyeing room at Woad Barn. Bottom: Tidal markings in mudflats at Holkham Nature Reserve, Norfolk.

soda ash - where from, how, and what is it really?

The early part of February was taken up with investigations into soda ash, that versatile white powder used not only with fibre reactive dyes as a "fixative" but also as a traditional and versatile household chemical. The article was published in the March 2008 Batik Guild magazine and is also available on my website. There was a lot for me to get my head around, and indeed I needed (repeated) assistance to grasp some of the chemistry. Looking back to my first delvings into soda ash last July I realise that what the article doesn't do is assess the sustainability of using the chemical - in end use in dyeing and scouring (or by inference household use) and through sourcing and manufacturing. The trouble is I'm not confident or clever enough to draw conclusions, only to take them from published research. And I don't know if there is any.

However, I have no problem 'feeling' my way... science is all very good and proper but there is nothing like trusting instinct for getting it right.

After I'd finished the article I sat back and while resting my tired brain considered my earlier thoughts on the white stuff (pre-July 2007). I hadn't really thought about it, of course, but had a vague inkling it was naturally mined something like salt, say. But without any regard for resource sustainability. So my research has left me gobsmacked!

Of the three processes - manufactured (as in UK), mined (as in eg, US and Kenya), and 'gathered' from kelp or salsola ashes (the Old Days) - I cannot say with any certainty or feeling which is the most sustainable. But I've a feeling that at quantities produced globally today, none are. In line with everything else... I feel very uncomfortable at the thought of ripping out Mother Earth's innards, as required to retrieve limestone and rock salt for manufacture (but recognise my hypocrisy as today I put 33 more litres of petrol in my car without flinching). I'm less sensitive to surface mining of trona or natron as they are naturally renewing resources, but I feel Nature is hard pushed to keep up with our consumerist demands. Burning plants would seem the most eco-friendly resource as their annual replenishment is easy to gauge and thus Nature would set the limits. But... 'society' would collapse and (new) resource wars break out if this became soda ash's only source.

I need help to get answers, obviously.

irony and purpose

Next month the Renewable Transport Fuels Obligation comes into force requiring biofuel to be included in 2.5% of petrol and diesel. It is now widely known (see here and here) that most biofuels are now discredited for being more damaging than the fossil fuel they are meant to replace. Not just for increasing greenhouse gas emissions but for putting up global food prices and destruction of pristine habitats such as rainforest.

The irony of a fuel designed to reduce greenhouse emissions but that actually increases it is not lost on me with my predicament over the direction, future, purpose of my art. My batiks reflect and interpret the natural world and/or environmental issues in the hope of inspiring or enlightening others to appreciate and live more respectfully with nature. But until recently I had minimal consideration for the consequences of their actual existence... not just the materials and processes used but the fact yet another "object" had been created and added to the world of consumerism.

edited 7 April

nettle fibre (and leather)

Despite my research into cotton production that lead to testing of organic and fair trade cottons I am still a little uncomfortable at the thought of using fabric that is produced thousands of miles away and on land that (today) might better be used for (local) food crops. I slightly reconcile it with myself with the thought that trading of such 'commodities' has gone on for centuries, so it isn't such a problem.

But I have been pondering whether I should learn to work on materials that are available locally, ie in Cornwall. Being cattle and sheep country that means leather or wool. As wool needs to be dyed at high temperatures that obviously rules out batik work (though other resists may be possible). Batik on leather is possible, but I don't get on with the smell of leather and am not sure how well I'd wax while gagging! Last year I learnt that my great-great-grandfather was a saddler by trade and his father, grandfather and great-grandfather before him were shoemakers and cordwainers - if leather work is in my blood perhaps it is my destiny. (For those who also need to look 'cordwainer' up: my old Collins dictionary says shoemaker or worker in leather. More about cordwainers here.)

And then, in today's Guardian, an article about stinging nettles being used for fibre - which mentions a nettle clone crop is being trialled in Cornwall. Leaving aside any ecological issues with cloning for the moment (it may just mean being grown from the same rootstock - easy!), there is hope for a locally produced fabric to make batik on!

I have already tried dyeing an organic nettle/cotton mix from Greenfibres - but only a scrap as it's expensive. This fabric is delightfully soft but being slightly stretchy isn't ideal for waxing. But other mixes or types of cloth may well be developed and be suitable - and smelling much nicer than leather!

loose dye update 2

A few weeks ago I uncovered the reason for the loose 'magenta' dye, forever slightly washing out but not seemingly weakening the colour on the fabric. Or rather I didn't uncover it, it was explained to me by Stuart at Kemtex... With Procion MX, small amounts of both 'magenta 'and 'cyan' dyes (but especially magenta) continue to move around the fabric a bit when drying. Thus when re-wetted they will rinse out.

It reminds me of warnings on labels in red clothes in days gone by, to always wash reds separately not with other colours, and of ensuing white pinkiness when the warning hasn't been heeded. I think non-MX Procions are used for clothes-dyeing these days which eliminates pink residues.

I did find cyan ('turquoise' in MX parlance) washed out initially then stopped, then magenta ('brilliant red') took over. At least there's no need to keep testing for errors in my dyeing ways. Although I'm a bit annoyed at the time-wasting, there are benefits in that I've learnt more about MX requirements along the way.

Stuart said there is a cationic fixing agent available on the market (and at Kemtex) which is supposed to address this loose-dye situation. Formerly this was formaldehyde based but due to environmental reasons no longer is (info on formaldehyde here and here). Although it resolved washfastness issues it compromised lightfastness so wasn't that wonderful anyway! The new version isn't formaldehyde, but I don't know what it instead IS.

A couple of websites list similar sounding products, Fineotex in India, and Shanghai Tuebingen, a Chinese subsidiary of German company CHT, who make Rewin.

Rewin ST seems the most promising, mentioning the difficult dyes by name but will give "slight shade changes". Slight changes could be catastrophic if a perfect harmony or balance of colours was intended but was then altered. What is so good with Procions is the brilliance of the colours, that complimentaries (or other pairings) can really sing and vibrate against each other. Take that edge away and the whole appears flat and lifeless. Fineotex NFE is apparently eco-friendly but we have only their word for that (or maybe not even that: "the information is in good faith but without warranty"). It doesn't say if it will affect lightfastness or change colours.

Anyway, as my Procion batiks are generally never re-washed after framing there seems no reason for me to need (read 'risk') this additional fixing solution. Or waste world's resources.


I also learnt from Stuart where their MX is made - Indonesia (he did tell me the company name but I'm not going to reproduce it here obviously!). Indonesia is an obvious place for it to be manufactured, considering how much batik is made there and it being an ideal cold water dye that won't melt wax. Stuart assumes it is also still made in India.

wild and free

Since mid-November when my car went back on the road I've been sampling the delights of driving again. Visiting petrol stations with an empty tank is not a delight. The concentration needed for driving after being a passenger only for a year is not a delight. Not being able to gaze out across the fields, daydreaming, is not a delight. The knowledge that driving pollutes is definitely not in the delight column.

But the feeling that I can get on and do things, can get places, can get to events whenever and wherever they are, can visit people anytime... this is wonderfully liberating!

Except.

Of course it's not sustainable both ecologically and economically. A 1.4 litre Peugeot 306 doesn't generate carbon as bad as some other cars but nor is it in there with the least worst. But the independence! So what is the solution, where is the right balance?

In my year of not-driving the few weekday buses from the village instilled some discipline in me – shopping lists probably being the most practical. But I no longer need the extreme of planning my route around the town in order to get everything done in time, or if seeing a friend or acquaintance saying a rushed "hello, sorry can't chat gotta catch a bus". Awkward was when additional extras came up, like needing to browse for a present for someone, or trying on clothes, or getting back already outdated library books. But I did manage to evolve shopping (and banking) to one half day a fortnight, a habit that seems to remain.

Impossible was trying to get anywhere independently other than Launceston. Of course there are onward buses to Camelford, Bude, Exeter, Plymouth, and Liskeard and getting to these places was there for the taking. Getting back in the same day would mean leaving the village on the 9 am bus, and getting back at 6 pm – all for about an hour in the intended end destination and much loitering in Launceston waiting for connections. That's when you're lucky – other places like Bodmin, Truro, Redruth, Penzance and Falmouth pretty well require an overnight stay.

A-ha! What about my shiny new bicycle? Well yes, I cycled to Camelford, Callington, Launceston, and the coast a few times. But not across the moor on the A30 to only-14-mile distant Bodmin. It's a good quality dual carriageway but chocka with trucks, caravans, cars being driven at 100 mph, and cross winds. There's a 40 cm wide rough hard shoulder when you're lucky.

The ever-present reliance on friends to take me places became humiliating and sometimes brought its own unimaginable difficulties such as a driver's last minute decision to alter their timing – throwing your careful logistics planning into disarray.

During the summer I gave up trying to exhibit. Most of my work is in my work storage unit in Launceston, and I needed to get it back here and checked over before sending out anywhere. One lift. Next lift to deliver. Final lift to collect at show's end (usually best to assume no sale!). It all becomes too much.

It's strange, once the pattern is lost the momentum goes too. I am having to make super effort to feel inspired to exhibit again. I hadn't realised how much public feedback actually boosts an artist's... confidence? Or maybe it's that the exhibitions/organisers seem oblivious to sustainability issues, while I am thinking about number of journeys/fuel costs.

It may also link to the unproductive time I had over the second half of the car-less year. I produced no new batik. This is scary, you start wondering if 'it', the motivation, will ever come again... Of course I was doing a lot of research into sustainability, and writing this blog and other articles. But starting the blog was mostly a tool to keep me focused, to give me purpose and direction while I was feeling exceptionally dependent and hopeless and frustrated. It gave me short term deadlines. Although I originally had loads of other plans for my 'year out', few were fulfilled.

But now I am frustrated at not creating. The blog now needs to take backstage and give me a chance to get going again. I now want space without 'public' commitments (for that is what it now seems), and definitely time with less computer. I may be away for a while but be assured I will still be working on sustainability and reporting findings.

The bird image that started this article is – as you can see – a work in progress (as we are to call unfinished pieces). I am going to start on completing this. It's hung around so long because this, the final stage of adding pond water, is going to be even more complex than the rest. I am really done with complexity... "Wild and free", the title of this post, refers to those birds with no inclination to interest in being fed bread.

asking the right questions

I went to a Transition Town event in Wadebridge on Wednesday to hear both Rob Hopkins, the founder of Transition Totnes and the wider Transition Towns movement, and Anthony Gibson, Communications Director of the National Farmers Union and founder of Taste of the West, speak about Peak Oil and the future. Without digressing too much I already felt that Transition seems the only way forward for western culture, and certainly for those of us at the geographic/geopolitic margins – never mind that rural areas are the food and water providers.

Although both speakers had areas of common ground (eg locally produced food, return to importance of British farming, great need for re-skilling people) they diverged strongly over the sourcing of energy beyond peak oil. Rob believes in addressing a powerdown, there being no serious feasible option to provide a fuel replacement to oil (petrol) to give us and our culture the mobility it has become accustomed to. Anthony is still selling biofuel as the future solution, though I don't feel he is as strong an advocate as he used to be. He indicated that second and third generation biofuels should overcome some of the problems of currently produced biofuels. He believes that British farmers further in the future may not be producing crops for biofuel (other than for farm use) and instead will be producing high quality food for domestic consumption with biofuel being imported from developing countries. But for now he encourages farmers to go for growing biofuel crops, even where it displaces food crops, as it's where the market is at now.

The market? As a member of the audience pointed out, the market, the existing economic system, seems to be causing the problems as it doesn't recognise that nature and the planet are finite, and can the answer really be to chase money all the time. Frustratingly this economics discussion often and did also on Tuesday lead to the dead end/let's-not-go-there-now of if not the market then there is only state control. When really we need another system, one that looks beyond GDP and competition or quota and control to... something modelled on nature's patterns, planetary capacity. Yes I'm no economist and I don't know the answer except change is needed.

As events are meant to, it got me thinking. Certainly I am looking to make my practice sustainable and ecologically sound, but is attempting to use quantitative measurement the right way? After all, the tipping point for irreversible climate change cannot be proved without actually going there, which only apocolyptickers would advocate doing. I am attempting to use carbon equivalent emissions as a measurement tool, which I still think is OK. But can I really pitch a petro-chemical method with no conceivable long-term future against one of renewable abilities? Do I really need to prove it? Have I been asking the right question?

Shouldn't I instead be asking:

How should I be making batik in a transition culture?

What purpose will batik hold for my community? What can batik give?

Or even:

Should I be making batik? Or something else?

Yeah yeah, sounds a bit drastic eh. But as a Transition Network leaflet says:

"The need for change is urgent and these profound changes can't happen overnight. We still have some time - if we act now. By thinking and acting together, the transition to a way of living that consumes substantially less carbon energy yet is a happier, more fulfilling and abundant place will become much more achievable."