Latest Comments

Katrin Hieroglyphs.
23. Februar 2024
Yes, that would sort of fit that aspect - but you can also go from bits of woods to sticks if you ar...
Bruce Hieroglyphs.
23. Februar 2024
I think the closest English equivalent would be 'Down the rabbit hole'. It has one entrance (No, not...
Harma Spring is Coming.
20. Februar 2024
I'm definitely jealous! Mine disapeared except for one pathetic little flower. But the first daffodi...
Gudrun Rallies All Over Germany.
23. Januar 2024
Vielen Dank für den Beitrag. Ja, wir müssen darüber reden, gegen das Vergessen. Zum Glück haben mein...
Anne Decker Aargh.
17. Januar 2024
This is less likely to have an effect on your personal samples as you likely wrap the same way for a...
JUNI
20
2

Back home from lovely Düppel.

Here I am, back home - after having a lovely time at Düppel for the textile day on Sunday!

It was an absolute pleasure to show and tell about distaff spinning, and have some people join me to give this wonderful technique a try. The weather was sunny and warm, but fortunately there was always a little bit of shade to stand in. There were lots and lots of interesting questions by visitors, and at one point I was even taking a group of them further back into history... to starting out textile works (or proto-textile works) with plant fibres and splicing. It was a fortunate coincidence that some nettle plants grew behind my stall.

It was also the first time that I did distaff spinning with a "join in and try" stall. It did work satisfactorily - but has shown me, once more, how important good conditions are for teaching. There is a reason why the amount of participants for a workshop is limited, and why I much, much prefer having a nice closed room to doing a workshop outside, even though it may be nice and pleasant to be outdoors, and I generally enjoy being outside a lot. Distractions are a thing, and do have an impact on the learning curve. 

Apart from that extra bit of added difficulty, there were the usual problems when learning how to spin with a distaff - some of them easier to solve than others. One issue is always movement of the distaff (which is easier to remedy when I have the very large clamps that I bring to workshops, and that I could not bring to the Middle Ages, due to obvious reasons). Another very common issue is problems with remembering which direction the spindle is turning, and that's something that I've not yet found a solution for. (Sometimes I have left-handed people in the workshop who have been re-trained to use the right hand in their childhood, and they often have this issue. But it's not limited to them, and makes the whole thing really hard.) 

It was a lot of fun, and also an opportunity to try slightly different methods for teaching and explaining, and now I can feel the back of my brain processing everything and trying to see if there's things to change for better teaching in the future... because you never stop learning.

1
APR.
14
0

Teaching Thoughts.

I've been thinking about teaching again recently - because of teaching some more again, in different settings, and because of an upcoming conference where I will do and give a short presentation about the topic.

Teaching is fun, and fascinating, and has its own special challenges and rewards. There are some things that are easier to teach and some that are harder. Personally, I find that the hardest technique to teach from the many textile techniques that I have on offer is filet netting. The knot, once you have it in your muscle memory, is not hard to do. It's a nice, fluid set of motions resulting in a nice tight knot that has the correct size every time.

However... there is no good way to split up that set of motions, at least I have not found any way to do that yet. To form the knot, you have to do all the motions and all the passes over and under the different threads, and you have to do all of them correctly. So learning that knot requires you to memorise the whole sequence in one go, which, according to my experience teaching this, is a significant challenge.

I remember learning how to do that knot myself; I used the instructions provided by Therèse de Dillmont in her book, the Encyclopaedia of Needlework, and I read them bit by bit following the sequence for many, many times until the whole process had settled in my brain. 

So - teaching long, complex (sort of) sequences that have to be done in one block is definitely a challenge - but it is something that can be taught. Other things just cannot be taught (as in directly giving instructions or passing on sequences of movements) at all. In some cases, the difference between individual bodies means that every body needs an appropriate solution for a given problem; one may work for many or most of them, but not for all. In these cases, you can only assist. 

My favourite example for this is tensioning the yarn when knitting Continental style. For most knitters (according to my own anecdotal evidence of looking on hands), wrapping the yarn around the left forefinger works very well. Many knitters wrap twice, some once, some even three times, and the number of wraps may also depend on the yarn. So this is the way how to tension yarn that most people get shown and taught when they start out knitting. 

However... for some people, it does not work. That includes me - if I wrap the yarn around my forefinger, it just won't slide at all, and I get higher tension all the time, or if I jerk more of the thread loose, uneven tension. For me, it works wonderfully to just weave the working yarn through the fingers of my left hand: over the ring finger, under the middle finger, and over the forefinger. When I was learning how to knit, finding my personal way for tensioning the working yarn was actually one of the biggest challenges, because nobody showed me that method; I stumbled across it when trying out different possibilities.

So as a teacher, you can be aware of the possibility that a given method or process might not work for everybody because of physical reasons - and then you can, if you know of alternatives and options, tell about the other possibilities that the student could try. But of course you cannot slip into their skin and try out the options yourself to see which one feels best, and you might not be able to demonstrate the other options well as they might not work well, or at all, for you. In the end, they will have to find their own solution by trying out things. 

Have you come across similar things - in learning a skill, or in teaching? I'd love to know!

0
MäRZ
16
0

Teaching Thoughts.

 With the pandemic lasting for rather long, I started (like some other people) to offer some of my workshops or courses online. So far it's the sewing workshop (about medieval stitches, seams, and hem types) and the spinning workshop.

I've been asked at some points about offering other workshops as well, and I've thought about it, but not every one of my workshops is online-able, at least not in my reckoning and how I teach it.

The most recent in-person techniques that I taught were the tablet-weaving workshop and the loop-braiding one. I can definitely say that I will not offer the tablet weaving one as a digital version. There are several reasons for that.

One of them is that there's often little movements or little habits that influence how smoothly the weaving goes. I need to see these, and in my experience from the spinning workshop, that is just not possible via a small screen and with limited camera positioning possibilities. It's not as crucial in the spinning workshop as it is for tablet weaving, and there it can already cause issues. 

I also need to be able to see the band, in detail and from up close - because occasionally, threading errors happen, or a single tablet flips or goes out of alignment, and, well, see above.

Those are the visual issues. 

Warping is another thing where I have a set-up in the workshop that works well, but it requires using my favourite all-purpose-tool: the clamp. To be more accurate, four clamps per person. These are used for warping, then two serve as anchor points for the warp for the rest of the workshop, and then I pack them up and take them home again. That means that participants in an online version would have to warp with what they have at home, or get clamps on loan and have to send them back, or have to buy clamps, or I'd do the warping and send the finished warp for the workshop. The last would be the easiest version logistically, but it would also mean that warping - which is an important thing to learn - would not be part of the experience.

And then... there's the touching. Warp tension is one thing where it's helpful to touch and see, but that is the least of the points. There's this stage in the workshop when we're going off to weave freestyle patterns based on diagonals - diamonds, X-shapes, diamonds with a swirly centre, diagonals branching off each other. Mistakes happen, confusion might occur, and then I need to orient myself to see what happened, and what needs to be done, and I do that by leafing through the stack of tablets, checking each one.

And this is where, at the very latest, the idea of doing this virtually would die. I'm still hoping to some day, when it gets less busy here, finish filming and making the instruction video for tablet weaving planned and started oh, way too long ago - but transforming the in-person workshop on tablet weaving to an online version is just not possible. 

(In case you're wondering about the difference between a video course and the live online version: The video can be watched again and again if there's something unclear or difficult. Since different people tend to have their problems at different places, watching individually and re-playing the passages in question would not be an issue. Explaining something online live without the possibility of showing it on the band, and having potential visual problems caused by the participant cameras, well... let's say that this is sure not to work out well. It would also mean factoring in a good amount more time for the workshop in advance, making an already rather long one... impossibly long.)

0
FEB.
19
7

Warp Weighted Loom Thoughts.

A long, long time ago, I made this little model of a warp-weighted loom, and after a few more years, I set it up again properly, trying to scale things down as well as possible.



The model has come in handy for a lot of occasions now - it's the perfect way to very quickly explain how a warp-weighted loom works, and much easier to transport than a full-size one. For weaving purposes, though... it is obviously not the most suitable thing.

For actual weaving on a warp-weighted loom, you need a full sized version. And due to some people putting a flea into my ear, I've been pondering the question of how to organise a loom-weaving workshop, in logistical terms. Because you'd obviously need a loom for every weaver...

Now, in my personal opinion, the weaving itself is not the crux in learning how to work with a warp-weighted loom. Yes, you can of course muck up things wielding the shuttle and beater - but according to my experience, the stage where the main decision happens on whether you will end up with thread salad or a proper fabric is the setting up of the loom. Which also happens to have a lot more steps, and a lot more varied tasks, than the actual weaving itself (which is, basically, change shed, beat, insert weft, repeat). So to learn the how-to, I would actually aim to teach setting up... followed by a bit of weaving.

Whether the one or the other, though, you still need a loom for every weaver. Preferably one that is a good, efficient tool which would be suitable for production weaving. Also relatively cheap and easy to make (even without a woodworking workshop and lots of tools), suitable for normal-sized women (a plus would be easy adaptability for body size), and with the option of making it free-standing (in case the workshop area does not have enough wall space). It should be possible to take it completely apart for storage or transport, preferably with no single piece longer than 2.2 m.

The most important measurement for me, at the moment, is a suitable and sensible depth of the natural and artificial shed. How deep does the shed have to be, in order to weave comfortably? At one point, it will be too shallow to pass the shuttle (or weft ball, or whatever) through. (Obviously, the wider the fabric, the more fiddly this might get.) Making the shed deeper than necessary, though, means that you have to pull your heddle stick out further than necessary each time, and that is not very efficient.

Mathematics say that the depth of shed and height of loom will dictate the angle of the loom, and thus how far its bottom will stick out from the wall, and thus how far forward you will have to lean to pull the heddle stick, and how long the rests will have to be for the artificial shed - so, basically, everything.

Which means that construction-wise, deciding on a smart depth of shed is the most important thing... which also means that if any weavers with experience on a warp-weighted loom are among you, please let me know about your thoughts - and your experiences with shed depths!
0
SEP.
02
0

Weekend Weaving Workshop: Done.

I've spent this weekend teaching weaving to six wonderfully enthusiastic people - and I can tell you that while everyone enjoyed it (as I was told so) - I think nobody had more fun that I did.

Tablet weaving is one of my favourite teaching topics. It's simultaneously easy and brain-bending. There's simple rules to follow, and within those rules, you are completely free to do as you wish. Mistakes are easy to make, but they are also easy to spot, and after a while you make less and less of them. And for teaching purposes, with the system that I have developed for weaving both "normal" patterns and twill patterns, it's even not relevant whether someone has been doing tablet weaving before or not.

So everyone gets the basic explanations, then we get to work making a warp, and then weaving starts. Which, about inevitably, results in a room full of very quiet, very concentrated people, exploring the structures and possibilities of tablet-woven bands, conjuring up patterns. It actually was so quiet that I could hear a pin drop. (Yes, I actually tried. It was only just audible, but that was because the floor in the room was relatively soft, so the pin made very, very little noise.)

In my course description, I purposely did not promise that we'd get into twill, as this can be hard to gauge. While a weekend course is usually enough to at least touch the basics (the plain background, and the principle of how to weave a motif in that), I can't guarantee that more will be covered, as this very much depends on the individual group. In some groups, the weavers want more time to explore diagonals patterns, for instance, and that, of course, is a wonderful thing as well.

This weekend, however, everybody was keen on getting some twill shenanigans done, and so we did. I can tell you that for me as the teacher, seeing that first line in everyone's band move first there, then here - that is the most exciting simple line that I know. Also, it means that I get to tell one of my favourite teaching stories: The one about the little renegade tablet that wants to start a revolution.

That is another thing teaching in this style has taught me - if you work paperless, without drafts, stories and mnemonic aids are wonderful tools to help explain things, and to help remember them. I don't know how pattern instructions were passed on in medieval societies, but I could well imagine a teacher tell a story to the pupils to help them remember what needs to be done at a given place in a pattern. It would probably not have been the story about a little tablet being a revolutionary and turning everything around (which is something that would not have latched onto basic cultural knowledge and background as it does with today's people), but it might have been something else fulfilling the same purpose. Songs and stories make wonderful tools for keeping things in minds, and I thoroughly enjoy teaching with stories. And daring little revolutionary tablets that prepare their revolution in the underground, quietly, looking like every other tablet for a while... until, suddenly...
0
FEB.
26
1

Things you don't think about anymore...

On of the challenges when teaching is teaching things that have become second nature so much that you don't think about them anymore. It has been done so often, it is so basic to the task, that the muscle memory has long since taken over, and there's just no thought, no effort to the part anymore.

Which means that if you are teaching, it's a challenge not only for the student, but also for the teacher - and for the latter, it's actually a multi-part challenge.

Part one: Realise that you are doing something in a certain way, which your students are struggling with, because they are not doing it in just that way. This step becomes easier when you are aware of the fact that something like this may happen, and that you may not be aware of everything you do, and that there might be a small detail that you do that makes all the difference. Even if you know about this pitfall of teaching, though, sometimes part one will not happen, as you are concentrating too much on other stuff. This realisation, for me, needs to either have a large and looming problem which is too obvious to ignore or leave aside for later, or it needs enough time and free brain space for me to mull over what the problem might be, and then arrive at a conclusion. The latter sometimes happens only after a workshop has finished, and it hits me on the way home, or the next morning as I wake up. (Which tells you that these problems do stay with me, and irk me, and I really want to solve them.)

Part two: Find out what, exactly, you are doing, and how it differs from what your students are doing. That sounds easy, right? But this can actually be rather hard - see above, for things that have become so much second nature that you don't think about them anymore.

Case in point, not textile-related? A few days ago, we went into an indoor pool to teach a young man how to swim. Obviously you can only cover the very basics in just one session, so that's what we aimed for.

One of the very very basics is the fact that water offers little resistance to slow movements, and much resistance to quick ones. There's also more resistance, much more, if you have a larger surface area than if you have a small one. So if you want to push yourself into one direction, you go quick with your hands or legs, trying to press as much surface area against the water as possible, and to "rewind" for the next push, you go slower, with as little surface as possible.

Now, both the Most Patient Husband of Them All and me are "Generation Swimming Pool Boom". As we found out a bit later, Germany saw a huge amount of pools built in the 60s and 70s, and of the Germans between 30 and 50 now, almost 90% are swimmers (as in they can reliably keep over water and move forward for at least a few hundred metres). Swimming has been so normal for us, having learned how to do it as children, that this slow-fast-thing is nothing we'd think about. It is something, though, you have to experience, and then learn which part of the motion is supposed to be quick and which is slow. And there's more little details to the motions, things that are surprisingly hard to explain.

So part two means looking at what you do very closely, looking at what the students do very closely, and figuring out what the differences are. They might be as minute as reducing pressure by slightly opening your fingers at one point of the movement, something not blatantly visible but actually quite potent (it's what I do when I turn tablets when tablet weaving). As you've got to find the difference in a motion or a sequence of motions, this may take some time - which may or may not be available in a workshop or lesson situation, depending on how much of a "safety time margin" you have calculated into your lesson plan, and how the overall thing is going.

And then, of course, what follows is part three: Explain what you are doing, and teach this to the students. The explaining part, for subtle things, can also surprise you by not being straightforward; and then the students need to try the new method until they find the right motion, the sweet spot, or the correct amount of tension or pressure. This, too, may take more or less time, depending on how difficult the task is for the students, but if you are in luck, they can work on this while you are moving on to help someone else with their problems.

Part four, finally, is: Take notes of what you figured out, and taught, and how you taught it, for any future lessons in this regard. Once some detail like this has been identified, it's much easier to spot if that is a problem the next time around, but it's always helpful to make a note or two in the teaching script at the appropriate place... which can then serve as a reminder for you, not only about this particular thing, but about the fact that these hard-to-spot pitfalls may lurk somewhere else as well, and that you would do well by keeping an eye out for them.

So... have you made similar experiences? Have you stumbled over teaching something because parts of it were so second nature you had a really hard time passing them on? And did you manage to solve it?
0
JAN.
24
0

Teaching Thoughts (part 3)

So... I've covered the explanations, and the hunt for words - that is one of the challenges when teaching, and it relates to the mind part of the task, the understanding only.

The things I am teaching, though, are crafts. Which means that there is not only theory (understanding how things work, and how the process should look at every stage of the work and why, and how to check if it is correct) but also practice. Which, in turn, means fine motor skills - getting your hands to do exactly what they need to do to turn those tablets, spin that spindle, control these fibres, tighten the thread, hold and swap those loops.

Motor skills of that kind are not as easy to confer to someone else. Once you've found the right words and gotten that concept across, it's there (and hopefully there to stay), but you can show someone a movement, a motion, a way of holding the body or parts of it, and it might just be so uncomfortable or new or hard to do that it is not really happening for that student. Even worse, there might be issues that prevent someone from successfully doing something - a finger that once was broken, latent tendonitis in a hand, arthritic joints, limited range of motion in a shoulder. The human body is astonishingly strong and resilient in some ways, and astonishingly ill-designed and prone to failure in others.

Even when there are no illnesses or accidents or other things that have left their traces, some folks will get there quicker, and some will need more time to learn that motion. It has to do with what one is used to doing - having mastered other, similar movements for something else before will be helpful, and having never done anything of the sort of motion needed will make itself felt. So some students, naturally, will be faster and some will be slower.

And also naturally, the slower ones will tend to be frustrated, and look at the others who are quicker and start to doubt themselves and think they will never get it. This, for me, is the hardest thing to deal with when teaching crafts - because I would so love to help them be just as fast as the fastest student in the class, and spare them the frustration. I would love to transfer them my own muscle memory, my own experience of how to grip, how to loosen, how something feels when you have to let go just a little more, or hold on a tiny bit harder. Of how the fibre should feel when it is running through your distaff hand, how that stack of tablets resists a bit and then you loosen your grip in one way and turn a little more and there it is.

But this, alas, is not possible. Everyone has to find these little treasures of practical knowledge for themselves. Experience cannot be transferred directly. There is no quick fix for the muscles not getting it as fast as the brain did.

It's frustrating when you know exactly what you want to do, and your body just refuses to do it. It's also frustrating when other people do just the same task with an apparent effortlessness that makes you doubt yourself. Believe me - I know that feeling very well. Not from textile crafts (where I have been doing so many things over the years that I usually get the new motion very quickly). I know it all too well from bouldering, where I regularly have fits of frustration over not being able to do a problem that others just dance up - or so it seems to me. I am still not very strong, so some moves are right out (pull my body up with one arm? Oh forget it!), and I'm still not very tall, so sometimes my angles are different and it makes things very different indeed, and sometimes my hands are too small for a specific grip on a hold. But sometimes, all these things cannot serve as an excuse, or an explanation why something is harder for me. Sometimes I only lack the strength, or the muscle knowledge of how a motion is done, or both - and consequently, I  fall off. Again and again and again, while other people (including other women, and sometimes other women who are a similar height) just... you know... float up.

There's only one solution to this problem: Keep trying. Keep practicing. Even if it is hard, even if it is frustrating, every time of trying and failing means one more time exploring possibilities, making new connections between muscles and neurons, learning something. Eventually, it will click, and the motor part of the brain will realise that oh, this is how the movement should feel, and this is how the muscles here and there and there have to work together, and suddenly it works, not all the time at first, but the seed is laid and with some more practice, it will grow.

There's no shortcut here - but if you have a hard time getting your muscles to do just what they are supposed to do, you can at least have this consolation: The next time you try to learn motor skills similar to the one you are struggling with now, it will be easier, and even easier the next time, and at one point you will be floating along, effortlessly. Don't give up. Keep practising. Be gentle with yourself - you will get there.
0

Kontakt