Paths of Molten Wax on Volatile Cloth

My latest publication!

2010-05-08T16:48:00.000-07:00

Take a look inside my book and purchase a copy!

My Batik Creations from Around the World

2010-04-23T12:35:00.000-07:00

Quarterly report #4

2009-08-06T13:50:00.000-07:00

Although batik has been adapted by fine artists in Europe as a medium of expression, it was the trade industry that first brought it over from Asia and later carried it all the way to West Africa. While Indonesians refused to accept the mass-produced “wax prints” that the Dutch and British tried to market back to them, these same textiles were so popular in West Africa that it would now be impossible to imagine its landscape without these colorful patterns and prints. This was the last stop on batik’s long journey and marks the end of my own year-long exploration of this ancient art form.

Like the marathon runner sprinting for the finish line, it was here that I faced the greatest challenges and made the most ground in understanding myself and the world around me. The physical difficulties of the excruciating heat and scarcity of water, the mental exertion of trying to make sense of the language and culture, plus the spiritual drain of guilt and sympathy I felt here all contributed to my growth as an artist, a person and citizen of the world.

Introduced in the 1950’s by Dutch colonialists who brought it over from Indonesia, batiks are a relatively new phenomenon in West Africa and artists here simply don’t have the expertise, materials or tools of their counterparts around the world. After seeing the exquisite rozome of Japan, the intricate batiks of Indonesia and the fine-art batik paintings in the UK, it was difficult not to look down on the simplicity of batiks made in this part of the world. Creating the highest quality batiks was never the main objective of this year however and the things I learned here went far beyond wax, dye or cloth. Making batiks in Africa taught me: to make use of every available resource and waste nothing, how to adapt new techniques into old traditions, the importance of family and relationships, and finally how I can contribute to society as an artist.

My adventure took off in The Gambia were I spent two weeks with batik artist Buba Drammeh and his entire extended family in their rectangular shaped “compound” made up of tiny rooms around a central courtyard. Most professions in this country are a family affair and the art of batik and tie-dye are no exception. Buba learned his craft from his uncle who learned from his father and so on down the generations. As Buba’s student, I quickly became incorporated into the family and was christened “Bingta Drammeh” to match my new Gambian identity.

Even daily life is a struggle in this village with no electricity and very limited water so one can only imagine what it was like to make batiks in such conditions. The actual act of creation was easy compared to the time and labor spent gathering wax from beehives, building a fire, melting the wax, carrying jugs of water, boiling the water and even heating the iron with charcoal. The batiks I made here reflect the difficulty of life in rural Gambia and the strength of its men and women. While the lines and colors of my paintings may not be perfect, to me, they are all the more valuable for the hard work and struggle they represent.

From Buba’s village on the north shore, a short ferry ride to the other side of the country took me to natural dye expert Anita Whittle where I learned about kola nut/indigo dying and worked on my own pieces with an artist named Musa - one of the few dyers in Gambia still using and experimenting with these natural dyes. Not only has Musa’s line of work been passed down through the generations it is a business that the entire family participates in. Stepping into their compound, I was impressed at seeing sisters/daughters pounding Kola nuts, uncles/fathers printing wax, grandmothers stitching tie-dye cloth and brothers/sons dying the fabric as naked babies tried their best to amuse the workers. If only all families worked together so well!

Batiks in Senegal reveal the creativity of the artists and reflected or perhaps explained the more advanced development of Gambia’s neighbor on all sides. Instead of focusing on quantity they also value quality and look for ways to be innovative and unique in their work. Senegal is famous for its tie-dye and batiks here have benefited from the expertise of these fabric dyers. In spite of its role in the slave trade, the Island of Gore is now a center for arts and crafts and a gathering place for the most liberal-minded and creative of individuals. The colorful batiks and tie-dye that were on sale everywhere reminded me of flowers growing on ancient ruins, covering the horrors of this island’s terrible past.

The long, torturous bus ride to Bamako, the capital city of Mali was made worthwhile by the huge groups of fabric dyers I found working along the side of the road. Batiks here are considered a form of tie-dye and used solely as a method of making patterns on cloth with wooden stamps. The few batik paintings that I did see in the markets were imported from neighboring countries such as Senegal or Guinea. Malian textile artists are instead busy creating “bogolanfini,” the mud-cloth that Mali is known for. My studies with the internationally renowned Bogolan Kasobane group in the city of Segou was necessary to understanding this textile tradition which has influenced and been influenced by the newer batik technique. It was amazing to see its similarities with Indonesian batiks in particular which also value symbolism, meaning and the creative spirit in the creation of each piece.

From there, my newfound interest in mud dying led me to Djenne, the ‘birthplace’ of this medium and then Dogon Country, where the traditional dye methods have stayed alive. It was in this gorgeous land known for the villages hanging on cliffs that I was able to experience Malian spiritualism and symbolism to the fullest.

Finally, in Ghana, I encountered Adinkra, the only African cloth printing tradition that existed prior to colonialism. According to legend, it was introduced to the Asante people of Ghana following the capture of a rival monarch from the Ivory Coast by the name of Adinkra, who wore the cloth to express his sorrow on being taken to the Asante capital of Kumase. The name “Adinkra” thus came to mean “farewell” and the fabric became commonly used at funeral ceremonies to say good-bye to the deceased. Today, this cloth is an integral part of Ghanaian culture and symbols from King Adinkra’s robe are seen on everything from clothing to academic/political seals to billboards and other advertisements.

It was amazing to see how easily and fully batik could be incorporated into this older textile technique. Traditional Adinkra cloth involves the printing of designs with a black dye made from the bark of the “Badie” tree using stamps carved from sections of calabash. Since the ink is not fixed however, this fabric can only be worn for special occasions such as weddings, funerals and initiation rites. The adaptation of these same wooden stamps for the batik medium however, allowed the material to be made with colorfast dyes and opened the door for Adinkra symbols to be worn at anytime and for all occasions. The batiks I made in Ghana with artist Antoinette Ablordy are thus filled with Adinkra symbols—each with their own names, meanings, proverbs and stories.

Perhaps it is this pride in their rich textile traditions that has made Ghana the first country in West Africa to market their own wax prints as opposed to the imported ones from Holland or England. I was amazed when I first saw “authentic Ghanaian wax print” on the bottom of these fabrics instead of the “genuine Dutch wax print” label ubiquitous throughout the rest of West Africa - and further impressed to hear of not one, but four major Ghanaian companies for customers to chose from. The T.V. commercials and advertisements encouraging Ghanaians to support their countrymen by only purchasing locally made textiles is reflective of the patriotism of this nation which has seen so much development and improvement in such a short time.

It is not just the finished textiles that Africans should consider however, but all aspects of batik making. Almost all works of artwork or clothing in their country are the result of dyes imported from Germany, fabric brought over from China, and designs copied from abroad or geared toward foreign tourists. 200 years after slavery was abolished, it seems West Africa is still controlled by foreign entities. In spite of rich textile traditions such as tie-dye in Senegal and Gambia, Bogolan in Mali and Adinkra in Ghana, the most ubiquitous fabrics are still the wax prints that come from Holland or England. In order to truly be free and independent, West Africans must look toward themselves and not outside their country for their materials, tools and designs. I arrived to Accra just in time to witness the excitement of President Obama’s visit and hear the cheers from his speech which focused on the future of Africa. We listened as he spoke of the rich resources of this continent and the prosperity that is only possible if Africans help themselves instead of depending on foreign aid. Africa’s future, as Obama states, is up to Africans and the choice of a locally made batik is one step in the right direction.

Thus, with the help of King Adinkra and his symbols, I bid farewell to Africa, my Watson year, and the incredible adventures and freedom that came with it. From Asia, to Europe to Africa, I successfully traveled for one year following an art form known as batik or rozome in order to understand the culture from which it came from, learn from the artists who created them and most importantly, make my own works from what I have seen and experienced in each country. What I found was a world full of places that have inspired me as well as people who have taught me more then I could have imagined. Before this journey, the world seemed so enormous, intangible and intimidating. After the incredible connections I have made across cultures, continents and languages, I have come to see that it really is such a small world after all and I am determined to do my part to make it a better place.

I began my Watson year as an idealistic art student with no idea of how to use my skills to help society, and now, at the end of the rainbow, I feel that I have finally found my goal. In the process of studying batik within various cultures and places, I discovered a need to help societies to develop in a sustainable and environmentally conscious way and furthermore, realized that it is through architecture that I can use art and design to meet the specific needs of individuals and communities around the world. With this realization comes a whole new set of goals to reach, work to accomplish and finish lines to cross. So while this may seem like the end of the road, in reality, it is really just the beginning of a grand new adventure and it was the Watson Fellowship that showed me the way.

Cassava Paste Resist

2009-07-26T12:27:00.001-07:00

Cassava paste is also used in Ghana as a resist for

creating designs on fabric.

First, the cassava flour is boiled with water

and made into a thick gooey substance

It is then smeared over a stencil, in this case, lace.

After peeling away the lace, the cassava paste is left to dry before the fabric is dyed.

The gorgeous result!!!

I'm in love with my new dress made out of Cassava paste!

Made in Ghana

2009-07-26T04:16:00.000-07:00

Antoinette Ablordey is one of the first artists to make batiks in Ghana and I was lucky enough to stay with her for the final two weeks of my Watson year.

Under her guidance, I learned how to make batiks the Ghanaian way, with blocks of Adinkra shaped stamps and "wax pens" cut out of foam.

Sometimes the best things in life are free and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that such a simple tool as foam could be so effective for drawing with wax. These sponges don't drip like tjanting tools, hold more wax then brushes and have more qualitative line potential then metal coils.

Here are a few of the wax stamps I cut out of foam.

Antoinette merges tie-dye and batik in her t-shirts.

A few finished pieces:

Ghanaians love to dance!

Below is a batik influenced by the Asante Akua'ba doll - one of the most traditional of African sculptures. Do you see the big round head and flat columnar body? Figures like this were carried by girls and women to promote their fertility and to ensure the beauty and health of their offspring.

My final "farewell" batik to the Watson Fellowship with adinkra symbols that represent what I have gained from this year. The road was long and at times difficult -but with endurance, strength, independence, perseverance, wisdom, etc., I made it across the finish line. What an incredible journey it has been!

Batiks in Ghana

2009-07-24T06:17:00.000-07:00

Batiks are everywhere in Ghana:

sold in markets

Displayed in art galleries

In department stores

As clothing worn by all

Adinkra cloth

2009-07-18T09:36:00.000-07:00

Batiks in Ghana are heavily influenced by Adinkra, the only African cloth printing tradition of pre-colonial origin. According to Asante legend, it was introduced following the capture of a rival monarch by the name of Adinkra, who wore the cloth to express his sorrow on being taken to the Asante capital of Kumase. I thus followed his trail of tears to see for myself the birthplace of this Ghanaian textile.

Traditional Adinkra cloth involves the printing of designs with a black dye made from the bark of the “Badie” tree using stamps carved from sections of calabash - the fruit of this tree.

Since the ink is not fixed however, this fabric can only be worn for special occasions such as wedding, funerals and initiation rites.

The adaptation of these same wooden stamps for the batik medium however, allowed the material to be dyed with colorfast dyes and opened the door for Adinkra symbols to be worn at anytime and for all occasions.

Batiks in Ghana are thus filled with Adinkra symbols - each with their own name, meaning, proverb and story.

Dogon Country

2009-07-11T05:47:00.001-07:00

After traveling the world for over a year, I can say without a doubt that Dogon Country deserves it’s place on the top-10-places-to-see-before-you-die list.

I was and still am left speechless by the stunning landscape and the complex and elaborate culture of the Dogon people. There honestly are no words to do this place justice – you simply MUST see this world for yourself. It is worth every penny and all of the many drops of sweat lost.

The Dogon take great pride in their gala (indigo) and bogolan fabric which incorporate the many symbols and designs of their culture. Most ubiquitous is the “Chiwara” an antelope that represents agricultural prowess and the “Dogon” sign of two contrasting U’s for the earth/sky and a bar in the center for the Dogon people.

Unlike in the big cities, no chemicals are involved in the traditional method and only recently have artisans begun to create “modern paintings’ using a bleach solution to make white.

In Dogon, the ‘ngalama’ leaves which make the yellow dye is called ‘akashia’ and instead of dying the entire fabric with it, it is instead mixed with indigo and drawn only onto the places where the clay will be applied and then drawn again on top of the clay.

The layers of clay and dye are repeated as often as necessary to make a deep permanent black. A drawing in the negative with bleach to remove color is thus never utilized.

The difference is obvious in the softer colors and more organic lines of the natural bogolan . If there is still any doubt just look on the back to make sure it is white and not pre-dyed.

The bark of the ‘local wine tree’ is used to color the fabric reddish-brown and it’s berries can be eaten or made into juice. Delicious!

Even the indigo is made only with the ashes of millet stalks. I can’t help but wonder how this is possible then the usual process requires both causic soda and hydrosulfite to make the blue truly colorfast. Maybe the Dogon really do have some sort of ancient magic!

Birthplace of Bogolan

2009-07-11T04:08:00.000-07:00

Djenne is a World-Heritage listed city in Mali famous for it’s mosque – the largest mud-built structure in the world. It is also reported to be the “true home” of bogolan fabric whose designs are supposedly painted with the same mud that created the mosque.

I arrived to Djenne with great expectations of shops full of bogolan, artists busy at work and huge pots overfilling with mud/clay.

Although I did see many people wearing and selling bogolan in the crowded Monday market, the quality and selection in Djenne was not at all what I had hoped for. After the busy workshop and fine work I saw in Segou, these just did not compare.

Traditionally, bogolan is the work of women artists and Pama Sinatoa is “the most famous artisan” in Djenne. Even a visit to her workshop however failed to reveal the “top-notch” and “enormous” selection of textiles advertised in my tour book. Although I was impressed with her role in starting the women’s bogolan co-operative I did not see any of the 150 women artists working in my two days there and the excuse that it was not tourist season just did not satisfy me.

Finding the source of the mud that makes it all possible however made this trip more then worthwhile. It was incredible to see the crowd of people fishing within the goopy grey muck and I longed to jump in and play with them. As a source of building material, art medium and even food – this stuff really is the life-blood of this society!

colors of the earth

2009-06-28T11:49:00.000-07:00

I just spent an incredible week in the city of Segou with Groupe Bogolan Kasobane, the people responsible for bringing Bogolanfini into the fine art world. Although the original group consists of 6 artists, they also run a studio/gallery made up of over 15 artists. It is in this beautiful and creative environment that I learned how to make my own pieces of art out of cotton, clay, and all natural dyes.
Boubacar Doumbia, the founder of the group; introduced me to the origins, process and many symbols of this medium. It starts with Basilanfini, a fabric dyed from the leaves of the “ngalama” plant (yellow) and the bark of the “npeku” tree (red). Both contain a chemical called tannin which has been used as medicine and an antiseptic by the Bamara tribe of Mali for centuries. “Basilanfini” thus translates to “medicine cloth” and has been worn traditionally by Malians for protection and healing. Legend has it that a hunter wearing basilanfini carried home an animal covered in clay which reacted with the tannin in the fabric to stain it a permenant black. That is how “Bogolanfini” or “clay cloth” was born. The process is long and involves first dying the fabric multiple times to make basilanfini, then painting on the clay before applying multiple layers of a bleachlike substance and natural dyes to produce a finished work.
I can’t believe I managed to make 7 pieces of bogolanfini in 7 days! Here they are drying in the sun. I seriously LOVE this technique which uses the colors and materials of the earth. Why has no one combined bogolan with batik? The dyes are used cold and would be the perfect solution to the problem of using natural dyes with wax!

Bogolanfini

2009-06-19T11:30:00.000-07:00

Bogolan is a way of creating designs on fabric using clay (not mud!) and an integral part of Malian culture.

While there is no wax involved, the symbols and processes used in Bogolan are very similar to batik which only arrived long after Bogolan was established. Each piece of Bobolan cloth represents the sun which grew the cotton, the earth which dyed the cotton and the artist who is him/herself made of earth and sun. The circle of earth, sun and artist is moved by the creative spirit and the finished product is indistinguishable from the thing that created it.I love the neutral tones of this fabric and the absence of chemicals used in making them. For how proud the Malians are of their national fabric however, I am surprised by the few locals I see wearing it in contrast to the ubiquitous batik, tie-dye or British wax prints everywhere I look. In this hot, brown land, I can see the appeal of the brighter and more colorful clothing which looks so wonderful on their dark skin. Personally however, I love the earth tones of Bogolan more!

Gender roles

2009-06-18T11:48:00.000-07:00

Like the rest of West Africa, batik in Mali is created in conjunction with tie-dye. The strict family connections don’t seem to exist here however and I was surprised by the huge groups of unrelated men and boys working together on various forms of patterning fabric, including sewing, tying, binding and stamping. Anyone is welcome to join them to learn the craft and I saw many young boys taking advantage of the free education. Unlike Senegal or Gambia where both men and women can work from start to finish (although it is almost always men); in Mali, all of the designing work is restricted to men while the dying is reserved for the women. This is such a contrast to Indonesia where the opposite it true! Instead of helping with the men who are behind, these women are sitting around waiting for the men to finish sewing and stamping in order to do their part of the work.

The finished cloth is then sent to be softened and pressed by these men who

spend the entire day lifting these enormously heavy mallets.

The Malians couldn’t believe when I told them that in America and Europe, sewing and crafts are considered too feminine for most men. No one can explain to me the reason for these gender roles and I have yet to understand why they differ so much between countries. In a way, it seems to be representative of Africa’s problems. While tradition can keep a society grounded, they must move beyond useless customs and think for themselves if they are to move ahead.

textile connections

2009-06-15T10:46:00.000-07:00

The markets in Mali are filled with textiles of all sizes, shapes and colors!

Batiks here are made only with wooden stamps and tjanting tools of any kind are non-existent. The result is patterned fabric used for clothing and wax resist paintings such as these are imported from Guinea or Senegal and not made here in Mali.

This country is instead famous for Bogolanfini cloth which contrary

to popular belief, is painted with a type of clay, not mud.

I know I sound like a broken record, but it really is such a small world after all! Through Robin Paris (my teacher in the U.K.), I contacted Jim Barry, (a batik artist who visits Mali regularly) who proceeded to introduce me to Janet Goldner who just so happens to be friends with Nia Flym and Agus Ismoyo (the couple I studied with in Indonesia) and is also co-writer of the grant that sponsored their collaboration with a group of Bogolan artists here in Mali! Amazingly, both Jim and Janet are also in Mali for the summer and I was lucky enough to meet them both during my first week here in the capital city of Bamako. With Janet’s help, I have arranged to spend a week in the city of Segou with the Bogolan Kasovane artist group - 6 artists responsible for bringing Bogolan into the international art scene. Jim Barry’s knowledge of Indigo dyers in Dogon Country gave me the perfect excuse to visit this spiritual place noted for the villages perched on cliff sides. I can’t wait to get started!

Batik in Senegal

2009-06-12T06:43:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how much difference a national border can make. The Gambia may be completely enveloped by Senegal but in terms of development, culture and art they are a world apart.

I was honestly shocked by the modern high-rises and ritzy boutiques in this former French colony and impressed by the creativity and skill of the artists here. Although the market is still driven by tourism and batiks are mass-produced, at least here they try to make each one a little unique in it's own way. Many batiks even carry the signature of the artist as a statement of their individuality.

The display can make all the difference and the clean, orderly batik shops in Senegal were a refreshing change from the chaos of Gambian markets.

Art really is a reflection of the country from which it came and the more sophisticated batiks in Senegal makes me wonder why The Gambia has fallen so far behind it's neighbor. Is it the government, the education, the result of French vs. British influence? Who knows?

African wooden stamps

2009-06-06T08:21:00.000-07:00

The wooden stamps of The Gambia are not nearly as intricate as the copper ones of Indonesia but they have a unique beauty of their own and I love their natural look.

The fabric is placed over an old rice sack for padding instead of the damp plastic covered sponge used in Indonesia. The result is rough and messy, but suits the style of these African designs.

natural dyes in The Gambia

2009-06-06T05:16:00.000-07:00

Although they were not introduced until the 1970's, Chemical Indanthren dyes from Germany are now the most commonly used dye in The Gambia. Sold in dye-shops such as this, they are simply mixed with caustic soda and sodium hydrosulphite for a quick, easy and colorfast way of creating color on fabric.

Musa is a batik artist in Sukuta, a small village a few kilometers outside Banjul and one of the few who still uses the traditional ways of dying with natural indigo and kola nuts. I was lucky enough to study with him during my time here. We used indigo, kola nut and cashew bark to create this stamped batik and mango painting - absolutely no chemicals involved!

Coming from the 'cola nitida' tree, Kola nuts are an important trading commodity in Western African countries and the only stimulant allowed by Islam, making them especially popular with this Muslim society. They produce a deep orange color which when mixed with indigo can create an incredible range of blues, greens and browns.

To make the dye, the nuts are pounded into powder and mixed with water to create a lumpy bright orange liquid.

The batiked or tie-dyed fabric is then dipped and re-dipped multiple times depending on the strength of color desired.

Once dried, the fabric is often waxed again and dyed with varying shades of indigo blue. Although synthetic indigo is now most widely used, Musa still uses the indigo balls from dried indigo leaves and no chemicals in his dye.

Instead, he uses a liquid made from the roots of the 'wanda' bush in place of sodium hydrosulphite

and water drained through the ashes of the 'Brin' tree replaces the caustic soda.

The indigo mixture can then be kept in a large oil barrel like this for five years or more!

After the final layer of dye, the wax is removed with the usual boiling method, being sure to recycle the used wax after it is cool.

Musa's son - a batik artist in training and probably the cutest thing I have ever seen in my life!!!

Anita Whittle

2009-06-05T05:13:00.000-07:00

My week with Anita and Hilton Whittle in the more developed and touristy area near the capital city of Banjul was a welcome relief from the discomforts of African life and I have been amazed by the kindness and generosity that they have shown to me and all of the less fortunate Gambian around them.

As the friends of natural dyers/batik artists Isabella Whitworth and Jenny Balfour-Paul whom I met in the UK, Anita is also a skilled and knowledgeable textile artist who is helping me tremendously in my research here. Her research into the kola nut dye has been the most interesting of all and it has been incredible to learn all about this rare dye that is only used these parts of West Africa. The brilliant orange hues it creates and lack of heat makes it perfect for the batik medium and I can’t wait to explore it further!

Batik in The Gambia

2009-06-02T09:49:00.000-07:00

After seeing the exquisite rozome of Japan, the intricate batiks of Indonesia and the fine-art batik paintings in the UK, it is difficult not to look down on the simplicity of batiks made here in Africa. Introduced by the Dutch colonialists in the 1950’s who brought it over from Indonesia, batiks are a relatively new phenomenon and artists here simply don’t have the expertise, materials or tools of their counterparts around the world. Even so, batik is a very serious profession and a means of survival for many people in The Gambia. In most high schools, batiks and tie-dye are taught as a valuable life skills - as important as any other subject they study.

Buba Drammeh, took his role as my teacher very seriously and was adamant that there is only one way of producing a batik – his way. My sense of superiority made it difficult to take him seriously and I couldn’t help but see how crude and “inferior” his technique was to the others I have seen. These feeling quickly changed to amazement and admiration the day I tried to create my own batik. After wasting an hour and an entire box of matches trying to melt my wax, lugging gallons of water over from the water pump half a mile away, working on a completely uneven table and standing under the hot sun, I am humbled by Buba’s skill compared to my own incompetence.

Once I stepped off my high horse, I came to see just how much I could learn from the batik artists here in Gambia.

I learned:

How to build a fire and maintain a consistent temperature. The day I accomplished this with a single matchstick was one of the proudest days of my life and I felt as if I had just graduated from “life skills 101.”

How to dye fabric with as little water as possible - one jug maximum. When I think now of how much water I “wasted” in Indonesia and Japan, I almost feel faint!

Look for and gather natural beeswax from the wild.

Accept the many cracks that result from using cheap candlewax.

Recycle old wax from batiks to be used again.

Use African tjanting tools made of stick and wire and even how to make my own. I was actually amazed by how well they held the wax without all of the annoying drips of Indonesian tjantings.

Use wax crayons to draw my design first.

Make two batiks at once by folding the fabric in half first. More batiks, more money!

How to use tie-dye as a quick alternative to wax resist.

How to use the chemical Indanthren dyes from Germany which uses sodium hydrosulphite and caustic soda.

Basically, I learned how to make as many batiks with as little time an materials as possible. Most artists don’t see even try to make their designs unique but rather rely on a set of “patterns or templates” which they reuse over and over again. Unlike the UK, most artists here are men since most women are simply too busy in the field or taking care of their many children. Women do often help with the tie-dye however which is much easier and faster.

Most interesting of all are the “African wax print” batiks which are ubiquitous here. I wonder how many people know that they actually come straight from England and are a statement to the effects of colonialism. It is hard to imagine what Africa looked like before the arrival of these colorful and bright textiles.

Food from the Earth

2009-05-30T07:42:00.000-07:00

More than anything, I have learned what it means to eat from the Earth and the hard work that comes with it.

As a vegetarian until just recently, it was difficult to watch the slaughter of animals and furthermore to put their flesh into my mouth. Yet I did it out of respect for the animal that died for my sake and the cycle of life and death that we must all face.

Working in the garden was a humbling experience and I am in awe of the women who do it day after exhausting day. It is simply amazing to see them toiling underneath the hot sun with babies strapped to their backs and a smile on their face in spite of it all. Women of the world - I salute you!!!

This batik is inspired by the power of the sun and possibilities of solar power in the village. Food grows from it's rays and is watered by the solar-powered water pump then stored in the solar-operated refrigerator. Someday, I hope to make this vision a reality!

Life in The Gambia

2009-05-22T04:22:00.000-07:00

OMG, I can’t believe it!!! Internet, electricity, toilet paper, RUNNING WATER – it is too good to be true!!!There is nothing like spending three weeks in Middleofnowhere, The Gambia to really make a person appreciate the simple things in life and I hope I will never take them for granted again.

Until now I have been living and studying with batik artist Buba Drammeh in his “compound” - a rectangular structure around a center courtyard which the entire extended family shares. Here, there is no electricity for miles and water must be carried in jugs from the single solar-powered water tower in the village. Just the act of survival is difficult in such conditions and one can only imagine what it is like to make batiks with such limited resources.

Most professions in West Africa are a family affair and the art of batik and tie-dye is no exception. Buba learned his craft from his uncle who learned from his father and so on down the generations. As Buba’s student, I quickly became incorporated into the family and was christened “Bingta Drammeh” to match my new Gambian identity.

Buba, his wife and five children generously made room for me inside their tiny section of the compound which consisted of a room with a table and some chairs, a back room with just enough space for a bed and an exterior bathroom area. Honestly, the entire place was probably smaller then some people’s closets in the Unites States.

Living in such poverty was a humbling experience to say the least and I feel overwhelmed with pity and admiration for my new family as well as a terrible sense of guilt and disgust for myself and the Western lifestyle waiting for me at home. Without trying to sound pretentious, I can honestly say that this has been a life-changing experience which has given me a newfound motivation to make the world a better place.I will never forget the villagers I left behind and if there is any way I can help their situation someday, I will do everything in my power to do so.

Most specifically, I am hoping to find a way to complete this unfinished cold storage that has been deserted by a German based NGO. Over 550 villagers (mostly women) labor in the garden daily with the knowledge that at least 60% of the vegetables they grow will rot under the hot sun. (If you knew how hard these women work and how little they throw away, you would understand what a tragedy this is). This cold storage would allow them to save the fruit of their labor so that they would not only have food year-round but also be able to market the excess as source of income. With this financial stability would come better education, health care and overall quality of life.

This "medical center" would finally get the funding it needs to run, and teachers could be paid to in the schools. Somehow, I am determined to find the solar panels and refrigeration units which will get this thing running. Wish me luck!

Noel Dyrenforth

2009-05-11T15:50:00.000-07:00

Noel Dyrenforth is perhaps the most distinguished and well-known batik artist in the UK. He is the President and original founder of the Batik Guild. Meeting him in London the night before my plane departs for The Gambia was the capstone of my UK experience.

Here is a fellow batik traveler whose work has taken him to the U.S., Australia, Japan, Germany and China. Japanese rozome especially, has been the major inspiration in his work and it is obvious in the detail and skill in each finished piece. After working in batik for over 30 years, Noel's work has been displayed in exhibitions all over the world and is included in national and private collections such as the Victoria and Albert Museum in London and the National Gallery in Melbourne.

In spite of his personal success, he laments the demise of batik as fine art in the UK and blames it on the lack of tutelage available for new students and few exhibition opportunities for existing artists. More than anything, it is the rigid systems and regulations of modern day society that has squashed all arts and creativity. His work of organic shapes inside or against rigid grids speak of this matrix world in which we live and the need to break free from it.

Quarterly report #3

2009-05-10T09:22:00.000-07:00

Batik in the UK

What is batik in the Western world? Is it a painting, a scarf, a book, a bag…? After nearly two months in the UK, searching in vain for the answer, I have come to realize that batiks here are whatever the artist wishes them to be. Unlike in Indonesia, Malaysia or Japan, they are not bound by tradition and there are no limits to the artist's creativity. For the most part, each batik is the work of a single artist and an expression of their personal beliefs and ideals. Although I set out to understand batiks in the UK, what I discovered was the artists who created them and the individual lives that they lead. Batiks here are as unique and diverse as the artists themselves and to know the work, one must first know their creator. WHO then, are these UK batik artists, why do they use this medium and what are they trying to express?

Unlike the Asian countries that do have a batik tradition, there is no “center” of batik production in the UK. Thus, I have had to travel across the entirely of this country in order to seek out each artist individually in their studios which is almost always a part of their house. For the most part, I was welcomed as a guest in their home and was touched by how willing these artists were to open their lives to me. Even after just a few days in each place I feel as if I have made numerous connections and friends across the UK. Although I had already seen their batiks displayed online, in books and during exhibitions, it was only after meeting each artist in person and in their domestic environment that I truly understood their work.

Upon arrival to England, I took a taxi directly to Cumonor House School in Sussex, the private school in which batik artist Rosi Robinson teaches. Not only was I greeted by one artist, but a classroom full of energetic children working on their creations. Culture shock was not something I expected to experience, but after ten months in Asia, I was dazed to see so much white skin and astonished by the wealth all around me. Even more amazing was the freedom these children have to express themselves and I wondered if they really appreciate how lucky and privileged they are? At the same time, it was sad to see the competitive and individualistic society in which they live. Even at their young age, they are already stressing out over entrance exams and scholarship applications. From Rosi, I learned the art of patience and how to teach batiks to children slowly - by starting with wax crayons before moving on to hot wax. Education is only one aspect of her life however and underneath her calm demeanor, I found a spontaneous, open-minded and well traveled artist as well. Retuning home from a long day at work, she still manages to find time to work in her home studio as well as plan for her upcoming departure to study batiks in China!

In Brighton, I found Jenn Adamson, the treasurer of the Batik Guild and an artist in her own right. As a retired teacher and headmistress, she shared a similar patience and mannerism as Rosi. Her bright, sunny home and loving family are reflected in the vibrant batiks she creates. Without the stress of work or money, she is free to experiment with many materials and the batiks that emerge from her small studio/tool shed in the garden may be on anything from cloth, paper, wood or even gold fabric. It was liberating to follow her example and I was especially excited about the use of newspaper to capture a moment in time. Painting wax onto velvet was also a whole new experience and my visit to Wales and Conwry Castle was captured in it’s fuzzy texture.

Detailed, warm and loving describes Marina’s Elphick’s batiks, home and family. Working mostly figuratively, she paints in a studio next to her renovated farmhouse and her two children are her favorite subjects. Although she was discouraged from batik in fine art school, Marina’s strong affinity toward the medium convinced her to be true to herself and her art. Nevertheless, the formal training she received there shows through in her paintings which are as much “fine art” as any in museums or galleries. Starting with a detailed drawing on cloth, she then uses a variety of tjanting pens and brushes to create subtle lines, textures and shading. The result are the most detailed and illustrative batiks I have yet to come across in all of my travels.

Entering Jennifer Sharpstone’s home was like stepping into a fantasy world of color, plants, textures and smells. Organized chaos may be the best definition of her studio in the back garden, which has expanded to the kitchen, where she does most of her batik work. Like the variety of objects in her home, Jenny’s creations range from photos, sculpture, acrylics, pastels, etc. and wax-resist is only one of the many media in which she works. Her batiks reflect this diversity and are seen hung on lampshades, framed on walls, draped on tables and even pinned onto the ceiling!

Robin Paris’s batiks reflect her love for the environment and the gorgeous Cornwall countryside in which she lives. They are a statement of her belief in sustainability and the need to protect the fragile ecosystem in which we live. Not only do the images speak of these ideals but the materials in which they are made must be good and healthy for the Earth as well. It is absolutely incredible how much time and thought must go into creating sustainable batiks. Where was the cloth made? Who makes them and was it a fair trade? Which dyes are least toxic? Is it possible to use natural dyes? Where does the wax come from and how are the bees treated? The questions seem never-ending. As a full-time artist, Robin must deal with these issues as well as: organizing and looking for storage space, labeling slides, uploading websites, finding gallery space and preserving/framing her pieces. Although we did manage to process indigo leaves, make an indigo vat and dye our organic cotton batiks in the week I was there; what I learned went beyond the realm of creation. From Robin, I discovered what it means to be a working artist and how to live, eat, breathe and work for one’s ideals and beliefs. I will never again produce a batik piece without concern for the implications of my work on the environment and also a prayer of gratitude for the materials I am using.

With these newly formed ideals in mind, I departed for Isabella Whitworth’s home in Devon and found a kindred spirit. Although she started as a graphic designer, her travels in Indonesia inspired a move toward textile art. Beginning as a silk painter, she discovered the greater possibilities with batik and it has since become her medium of choice. In her studio just opposite the bedroom, she paints silk scarves that she then markets to various galleries in the area. Even after the scarf is finished however, the tedious work of labeling, pricing and marketing begins. Like Robin, she has become concerned with the environmental implications of her work and is experimenting with natural dyes and fibers. The hard work of studying plant species, their chemical properties and how to use their dyes is nothing compared to the creative difficulties that they cause. With a few exceptions such as indigo blue, most natural dyes need to be boiled with the fabric - the heat making the wax-resist technique impossible. For three years now, Isabella has been dedicated to finding a way around this problem and in the process, discovered a talent for research and writing. With a spacious home and an incredibly supportive husband, Isabella will no doubt be successful in any creative venture she decides to pursue. Under her gentle tutelage, I dyed my own scarf with natural dyes and am now completely addicted. I can’t wait to conduct my own experiments and explore the possibilities for myself. Who knows where this path will lead?

Isabella’s friendship with the well-known indigo expert Jenny Balfour-Paul was the break that got me a meeting with this remarkable woman. As one of the few dyes that does not require heat to set, indigo has been used throughout the world for batik and it’s story is synonymous with the wax-resist process. Jenny has spent a lifetime traveling and recording the uses, functions and processes of creating dye from the indigo/woad plant and it is reflected in the incredible textiles that cover almost every inch of her grand home.

The English have a long history of trade with other countries and Jim and Diane Gaffney are an example of the connection between East and West. This husband and wife team travel all over the world (focusing on Thailand, Indonesia and Turkey) buying gorgeous handmade batiks to bring back to their shop, Textile Traders in Bishop’s Castle, Shropshire. Stepping into their store was like going back to Asia and I was amazed to see how different the Indonesian batiks and equipment looked in their new home. As Chairwoman of the Batik Guild, Diane has been an invaluable resource for my travels within the UK and abroad and I had already been in contact with her for some time before I arrived in Indonesia. It was still a surprise however to meet her by chance there in that batik studio in Java where I was living. Not only was Diane there for business, but also to distribute the Batik Guild sponsored “Java Fund” to the Indonesian batik community in support of this important aspect of their heritage. Sales are only part of the Gaffney’s work and it is the interactions with the people and cultures they meet in their travels that is most valuable to them. Diane and Jim insist on knowing exactly where their products come from and make sure that the artisans were paid fairly for their work. The lectures, talks and workshops they give about what they have seen and learned are vital to spreading a greater understanding and appreciation for their products so that customers will appreciate them for what they are worth.

On the way to a natural dye/fiber fair titled “Wonderwool Wales,” Diane and Jim dropped me off in paradise – a.k.a the incredibly beautiful home of Jane Meredith located right on the river Wye. This artist of batik lampshades now focuses mostly on natural dyes on wool and takes advantage of the ample space around her home to grow all kinds of dye plants. It was amazing to see the variety of colors that she could create simply from seeds, dirt and water! Jane’s company “Plant Dyed Wool” was also participating in the Wonderwool fair and tagging along gave me the opportunity to meet many other natural dye and textile artisans such as Helen Melvin, whose book on indigo dying Robin and I were using, as well as Alison Dykin, whose “Pure Tinctoria” brand of natural dyes I was using with Isabella. What a great feeling of completion in having met so many of my natural dye idols!

“Natural” is hardly the word that came to mind upon seeing Pat Hodon’s florescent purple hair at the train station in Sheffield. That was the moment my sustainable batik discoveries ended and the mechanical ones began. Pat’s batiks are a result of layers of paper, silk, digital prints, thread, glue, etc. and unlike anything I have ever seen before. As a graduate of a fine arts college, she has been trained in many methods of artistic expression and is not afraid to push the limits and boundaries of batik. A steady job at a local college allows her the freedom to experiment and create work that has meaning for her. Pat’s spacious studio in the attic is just as clean, orderly and meticulous as the batiks she creates. The two huge laser printers and state-of-the-art computer equipment may not look anything like tjanting pens or wax pots but are nevertheless tools of her craft. Pat’s works are about transparencies, color and light; and after 30 years, the batik medium is still the only way for her to achieve the layers and intensity of color that her work requires.

As all of this traveling in the UK has shown me, batik artists in Europe are few and far between. For the most part, they work in solitude without the community that batik/rozome artists in Asia enjoy. To encourage and support each other, the Batik Guild was formed in 1986 to bring members together through meetings, exhibitions lectures, workshops and newsletters. Their Annual Gathering Meeting was in Whitby and I arrived two days early to help batik artist, BG magazine editor, and organizer of the event, Heather Gatt with the finishing touches. The result was an incredible weekend of workshops, discussions, brainstorming, and inspiration for the 20 members who attended. It was truly incredible to be surrounded by a group of people who shared a similar passion and love for batik. I was inspired by their vision for the future of batik in the art world and motivated to do my part to help.

Staying with Heather Gatt for a few days after the conference gave me further insight into the life of a working artist. After a full day of running workshops, going to galleries, getting work framed, and more; she must still make time to produce her art. After 32 years of batik experience, Heather admits that she does question why she still works in this difficult and under-appreciated medium, and has explored other media such as oil and watercolor painting to express herself. Somehow however, she always seems to return to the wax pot, her tjanting tools and the unexpected surprises of batik on cloth.

My visit with Noel Dyrenforth in London the night before I depart for West Africa was the perfect capstone to my UK batik tour. As the president and founder of the Batik Guild, he is definitely “the man” to see and I feel privileged to have met him. After over 30 years of teaching and studying batiks all over the world, Noel feels that Japan has been the greatest influence for his work. The skill and precision of the artists there resonate with his own detailed paintings which emphasize control above all. The disputes between Rozome, Batik, Fine Art or craft are a pointless distraction that for him is simply not worth entering. Wax and dyes are Noel’s chosen media in which to explore himself and the world around him and it is the color, line and form that matter, not the name of the technique that created them.

After visiting so many different artists from all walks of life, I am a few steps closer to understanding what it means to be an artist and how batiks can fit into the art world. The frustrations of Western batik artists in getting their work recognized as “fine art” and not “craft” makes me question my own definitions of the medium and wonder how I will fit in as an artist. The end of my Watson journey is in sight and this experience in the UK has made me question my future goals. Should I find a “real” job when I return or am I prepared to pursue the difficult life as an artist and a BATIK artist to boot!? In Asia, I felt comfortable with what I have but after just a few weeks in England, I feel greed and desire flowing once again through my blood. It is not enough for me to be an unknown craftsperson of batik fabrics – I want to be an artist, have a career, make money and be FAMOUS! Tomorrow, I am leaving for West Africa where I will spend nearly three months in The Gambia, Senegal, Mali and Ghana. Hopefully it will bring my ego back down to earth – at least until the next time I come down with “fine art fever.”

Heather Gatt

2009-05-07T08:53:00.000-07:00

The incredible cliffs and picturesque seaside town of Whitby made it impossible to leave right after the AGM conference. Heather Gatt was generous enough to allow me to stay for a few extra days and in the process I made a new friend and home for myself.

Heather's days are filled with teaching workshops, visiting galleries, preparing for exhibitions, applying for grants, editing the Batik Guild magazine and everything else under the sun. It was wonderful to see a full-time artist at work.

Batik Guild AGM weekend

2009-05-06T06:11:00.000-07:00

Report for Batik Guild Magazine:
On May 1^st, 2009, 16 members of the Batik Guild gathered in Whitby for a weekend of workshops, discussions, brainstorming, and inspiration. In attendance was Anne Dye, Heather Gatt, Barbara Meynell, Angela Lenman, Jenn Adamson, Stephen Adamson, Diane Gaffney, Wendy Evans, Sheila Kerrigan, Valerie Beardsworth, Jaques Coenye, Heather Koumi, Claire Heather, Ann Trotter, Gill Curry and Rushyan Yen

An informal supper served by Heather Gatt in her home was a delicious way to kick start the event. Long-standing Batik Guild members greeted each other while welcoming new members into the group. What a joyous evening of reconnecting with old friends and making new ones!

Participants gathered bright and early the next morning at the newly opened Green Lane Center for the “Heaven and Earth” workshop on how to create environmental effects in batik. Anne Dye began by demonstrating her method of painting tree trunks with pure paraffin wax before building up subsequent layers using normal batik wax of choice. The cracking, scratching and flaking from brittle wax was thus controlled by the more resilient wax and limited only to the areas in need of such texture.

In contrast was Heather Gatt’s lesson on the use of watercolor techniques to create subtle atmospheric effects between water and sky. Her blended technique was further balanced by Anne Dye’s use of masking tape to create clean edges between rock and water. Although the subjects and techniques were the same, each artist made the work their own and the result was a day of mutual teaching and sharing. Dinner and a stroll along the pier was the reward for this long day of focus and concentration.

Finally, the AGM meeting headed by Chairwoman Diane Gaffney clarified and resolved many issues as well as bringing new questions and concerns to light.

Creating a space for members to display their work has always been an integral role of the Batik Guild and the upcoming National Art Exhibition in July/August 2011 reminded members of the possibilities and rewards of being a part of this group. Gill Curry’s visit to the Lillie Art Gallery on March 4^th resulted in a detailed list of information and confirmed this as a viable site for the exhibition. The next step is to come up with a theme and to unite artists toward this common goal.

Diane was happy to report a very successful overseas trip to Thailand and Indonesia. Thanks to the generous donations of guild members to the Java fund, she was able to donate much needed money to batik artisans in support of this important aspect of their heritage. Less straightforward was the question of the UK Batik Guild’s presence in the Kuala Lumpur International Batik Conference in December of this year. Is Malaysia’s focus on batik in the fashion industry and their push to patent it for themselves a problem and would we be endorsing them by attending? After much debate, the consensus was that boycotting the event would not cause change whereas a speech from the Chair of the Batik Guild could show the world the possibilities of batik in all realms of art and culture. It would be a chance to convince Malaysians to find their own batik identity as well as warn them of the dangers of marketing screen-prints as “authentic batiks.”

The treasurer’s report from Jenn Adamson revealed an impressive financial increase of £1,000 in membership from last year and over £1,000 in earnings from the Batik Guild Calander which she herself created. The cost of Batik in Transition books, info packs and magazines were re-evaluated and altered to suit demands. Jenn also reminded members to apply for available grants, listing the Scotland exhibition and the Southeast region’s application for next year’s calendar as examples.

Overseas representative Jacques Coeyne voiced some inspirational ideas for the future of batik art. He proposes a gathering of batik artists in the near future to brainstorm about what can be done to move this medium forward. It would be an event unlike any that has come before. Instead of workshops or exhibitions, this would be a meeting based purely on discussion and include not only artists but also sponsors who are serious about investing in batik. Just as exciting is his project for an European Batik Exhibition in Belgium, ideally in 2012. As with most ambitious ventures however, this one will require both time and money to complete. Serious artists however must be willing to invest in themselves and by working together, there is no reason why it cannot be a huge success.

Although overall membership has increased, the opening of key positions such as magazine and website editors, secretary, and exhibition coordinator, as well as the upcoming loss of chairwoman Diane Gaffney and treasurer Jenn Adamson makes this a critical time for the batik guild. Now is the time for members who have not been as active in the past to step up and do their part. This year’s AGM has demonstrated the possibilities and potential of a unified effort. Let us all rise up to meet them!

A special thank you to Heather Gatt for organizing such a fun and successful Batik Guild AGM Weekend.

Pat Hodson

2009-05-06T03:46:00.000-07:00

A result of paper, silk, digital prints, sewing, glue and more - Pat Hodson's batiks are unlike any I have ever seen before. As a graduate of a fine arts college, she has been trained in many methods of artistic expression and is not afraid to push the limits and boundaries of batik.

While some artists may feel bound by tradition or definitions, Pat feels free to use all media and techniques to suit her creations. Her early batik works centered on landscape but have become increasingly complex and abstract until now they are built of layers upon layers of wax-resist, silk, paper, computer drawings and collage.

Her state-of-the-art printer and computer equipment may not look anything like tjanting pens or tjaps, but are nevertheless tools of her craft. Whoever says they make her job easier needs to reconsider!

Believe it or not, these are real batiks, even if they are made of more than fabric and wax.

Plant Dyed Wool

2009-04-27T17:18:00.000-07:00

I just spent an incredible weekend with natural dyer Jane Meredith in her GORGEOUS home in Hereford, right on the river Wye. It would not be an exaggeration to say that this really is paradise on Earth!

Although she focuses on natural dyes on wool, she has also tried her hand at batik. Check out this stunning lamp shade!

I couldn't believe the variety of plants in her garden and furthermore that each one can create such a vibrant color on fabric. These woad plants are huge!

Can you believe these colors are from natural dyes?!

A row of beehives completes the natural batik artist's heaven.

My arrival coincided perfectly with "Wonderwool Wales" - a showcase of wool and natural fibers. Jane's booth for her company "Plant Dyed Wool" was by far the best!

I fell in love with the blue and green scarf on the far left and was absolutely touched to receive it as my parting gift. It will be treasured forever.

It was wonderful to meet Alison Daykin, whose brand of natural dyes "Pure Tinctoria" I have been using with Isabella Whitworth.

I have been studying Helen Melvin's book on indigo dying and never thought I would actually get to meet her in person!

Even Diane and Jim Gaffney were there with Textile Designs!

Textile Traders

2009-04-27T16:01:00.000-07:00

It really is a small world after all. I ran into Diane Gaffney completely by chance in Indonesia and now I'm here in their home/shop in Bishop's Castle, England!

As Chairwoman of the Batik Guild, Diane has been an invaluable resource this year. She and her husband Jim travel the world (focusing on Indonesia, Thailand and Turkey) buying gorgeous handmade art and textiles to bring back to their shop, Textile Traders. In an unfair world, they try their best to maintain fairness and sustainability in every purchase - it is amazing really!

It is so weird to see Indonesian batiks and batik tools here in their new home on the other side of the world. They seem so different in this new environment - more exciting and exotic somehow.

Nia and Ismoyo's silk scarves are still the best! I still can't believe I was lucky enough to study with them in Yogyakarta. It all seems like a dream!

Sales are only part of the Gaffney's work. Through their travels and research, they constantly strive to learn about the culture and people who make these gorgeous textiles. By giving lectures and workshops on what they have seen and learned, they are able to spread a greater understanding and appreciation for these gorgeous fabrics.

Jenny Balfour-Paul

2009-04-25T01:20:00.000-07:00

Jenny Balfour-Paul is a writer, artist and traveler who has researched and worked with indigo for over twenty years. Her personal experience in dying with indigo, combined with first-hand experience from traveling and a Ph.D on the subject has made her the world's authority on Indigo and a celebrity in the natural dye scene. I still can't believe I was lucky enough to meet this remarkable woman!
Jenny's book Indigo, published in 1998 is the most comprehensive book on the subject. Just the photos themselves would make it worth having.

Jenny's enthusiasm and passion for her subject was obvious as she shared her unique collection of indigo-dyed fabrics, garments, rugs, tools and lengths of cloth created from a range of techniques from around the world.
Believe it or not, this natural dye expert also started as a batik artist! This is one of her first pieces - beautiful!

A gorgeous batik jacket from Southwest China dyed with Indigo.

One of Jenny's own pieces.

Blocks of Indigo from India

While in Nigeria, Indigo is made into balls.

This indigo was recovered from a Spanish ship that sank over 400 years ago! Believe it or not, it works even better than before!

The story of Indigo dye is as exciting and awe-inspiring as any epic novel. It's incredible blue color is often associated with political power or religious rituals and has played a vital role in many ancient civilizations for thousands of years. The more I learn about this incredible natural dye, the more I think - damn, why didn't I do an entire Watson YEAR on Indigo?!

Isabella Whitworth

2009-04-23T01:21:00.000-07:00

While Indigo blue may be beautiful, there are other colors in the rainbow and Isabella Whitworth opened the door to all the possiblities of natural dye colors.
Although her formal training was in graphic design and illustration, a visit to Indonesia in the 1980's led her down the path of textiles, silk painting and batik.
Her skill with pen and paper however obviously still serves her well:
Now a successful, full-time batik artist, Isabella works from home in the peaceful town of Hatherleigh in Devon. She, her wonderful husband Graham and their loyal companion Jillis the dog welomed me with open arms/jaws and I have learned so much from them all.

From initial paintings with gutta resist on silk, her work has now broadened to various shibori techniques and wax has become her medium of choice.
For the last two years in particular, Isabella has begun to consider the environmental implications of her work and her research into natural dyes and fibers reflect her dedication to the subject.

In the past, I have always considered batik to be a purely creative process but at Isabella's I found myself studying the chemistry, temperature, pH, mortants, etc. of the natural dyes and it feels like the more I learn, the more I realize how much more there is to know!

In spite of the hard work, I have become completely addicted to the idea of painting with natural colors. Not only are they better for the environment, but they are just so incredibly beautiful! Each dye has a different story, birthplace and reaction to temperature/mortant/pH, etc and I want to understand them all!
This technical aspect to natural dyes may be complicated but it is the creative limitations of using them that is the real challenge.

Not only are the dyes difficult to control but even getting them to stay on the fabric, much less be light and wash resistent seems nearly impossible at times. In terms of batik, it is even more difficult because the high temperatures required to color the fabric will melt the wax before any image or design can form.

What is a batik artist to do? This could be the start of an interesting exploration and I can't wait to start. Stay tuned!

The pre-mordanted scarf in Indonesia I brought from Indonesia was perfect for my first natural dye experiment!

The first dye bath was with this plant, called madder.
I used a sort of shibori technique for the design

Second layer of Cohineal - made from an insect!

The finished product included Cutch for brown and iron rust water for black.
I LOVE natural dyes!

Indigo recipe

2009-04-20T15:31:00.000-07:00

Indigo is a challenging dye to use because it is not soluble in water. To be dissolved, it must undergo a chemical change (reduction). When a submerged fabric is removed from the dyebath, the indigo quickly combines with oxygen in the air and reverts to its insoluble form. This is the process that binds the blue pigment to the fabric without the use of a mortant.

Making an indigo vat is just like cooking in a way. You need certain ingredients and equipment to get started but in the end, it really just depends on each batch of indigo and the artist's personal taste.

The trick is to dissolve the indigo in an alkaline solution and remove all oxygen. There are many different ways to achieve this effect. Here, we used Spectralite, soda ash and caustic soda.

This is the stock solution - a super-concentrated indigo solution.

Add some stock solution into larger dye vat, being careful not to introduce oxygen.

Indigo extraction

2009-04-19T16:27:00.000-07:00

Indigo, or indigotin, is a dyestuff that has been used throughout the ancient world for its ability to color fabrics a brilliant deep blue.

The chemical compound that makes this color can be extracted from several species of plants and although the Asian indigo plant is most common, it is woad (Isatis tinctoria) that grows in the temperate climate of Britain.

With the help of her good friend Helen Wood, Robin is actually growing her own woad plants, which I got to help pick and process into indigo dye!!!
1. The leaves are removed, washed and weighed on a scale.
2. Cut the leaves into medium/small size pieces.
3. Steep the leaves in a stainless steel pan full of hot water.
4. Remove from heat and cool as quickly as possible.
5. Then strain out the leaf matter.
6. Add soda ash when temperature reaches 50°C.
7. Aerate the vat by whisking to add oxygen and precipitate the pigment.
If the froth on top is blue, that means you have successfully removed indigotin from the plant!!!
8. Pour solution into jars and allow pigment to settle to the bottom before removing excess liquid on top. The indigo can now be used or dried for more permanant storage!

Robin Paris

2009-04-19T15:17:00.000-07:00

Just as I was starting to feel a little burned out from my travels, I arrived at the studio of renowned batik artist Robin Paris and was inspired. My year abroad is nothing compared to her FIVE years of traveling in Southeast Asia, Australia and New Zealand. It was during her trip to Malaysia in 1990 that she first learned the batik technique and has been hooked ever since. These first batiks often reflected the country and this painting of Malaysian kites even made it onto one of their magazines!

Robin's environmentally charged batiks are not only beautiful but serve an important function as well. They deliver a powerful message about the fragility of our ecosystem and the need to save our planet before it is too late.

As a statement of sustainability, Robin has dedicated her artwork to causing as little damage as possible. This means using materials and methods that are natural and healthy for the earth.

Robin has put me in touch with the raw materials of batik - where they come from and how they can be produced. It has been a wonderful week and a half learning about everything from keeping bees for wax, to using organic cotton as base, to dying with natural plants for color. I will never again produce a batik piece without concern for the implications of my work on the environment and also a prayer of gratitude for the materials I am using.

Cornwall

2009-04-19T01:37:00.000-07:00

Located on the southwest corner of Britain, Cornwall is one of the most beautiful places I have ever lived. Where else can you get dramatic coastlines, ancient moorlands and rolling hills all in one place? Robin Paris's batiks reflect the environment and wildlife of her home - no wonder they are all so beautiful!

Experiments in batik

2009-04-06T17:01:00.000-07:00

My week with Jenn Adamson was full of experimentation and exploration. Jenn is an artist who is always looking for new ways to push the batik medium and she was generous enough to share some of her discoveries with me.

Bleaching out a color in order to apply a contrasting color.

My (failed) experiment with wood. But at least I tried!

Batik on paper opened up a whole new world of possibilities for me!

Jenn's batiks on newspaper are incredible! What an perfect way to preserve current events.

Of course, I had to try my own newspaper batik. Obama, Q2, the Grand National horse race, etc. - April 4th, 2009 is literally the bases of this piece.

Velvet however, was the best. I love the shimmery colors and soft textures that it produced. This painting was influenced by a recent trip to Conwry castle and Mt. Snowdonia in Wales.

Marina Elphick

2009-04-03T10:16:00.000-07:00

My afternoon in the beautiful farmhouse/studio of batik artist Marina Elphick left me awed, speechless and inspired.

At first glance, it would be difficult to tell that her detailed portraits and landscapes are even batiks at all. Upon closer inspection however, it is clear that the rich colors and textures that she achieves can only be possible with the wax-resist-dye medium.

In spite of the narrative and subject oriented themes of her high-quality paintings, even Marina has had trouble getting her work accepted as fine art and not craft. Over delicious plates of homemade cakes and steaming cups of hot tea, we expressed our frustration at the "inferiority" of batiks and searched in vain for ways to change the status of the art form that we love so much.

Marina specializes in portraits and her beautiful daughter Amy is her favorite subject. The resemblance is uncanny, isn't it? What an incredibly talented artist!

AfricArt

2009-04-03T10:07:00.000-07:00

After seeing the gallery/workshops that Renate Braimah runs from her home in Brighton, the definition of "retirement" will never be the same to me again.

"AfricArt" is the title of her collection of artwork from Nigeria and Zimbawe which include many beautiful batiks from well-known artists including the world-renowned Nike Davis, founder of the Nike Center for Arts and Culture.

What a wonderful prelude to my upcoming West Africa adventure. Thanks Renate!

art and plant paradise

2009-04-01T16:29:00.000-07:00

It was wonderful to spend an afternoon with such an interesting and energetic batik artist. Jenny's studio (aka kitchen) was just the perfect balance of creative chaos and functionality.

The resulting paintings reflect her free and unrestrained style.

I am absolutely in LOVE with her house-full of artwork and plants. Honestly, this is my idea of paradise!

Buba Drammeh

2009-04-01T16:23:00.000-07:00

What a stroke of luck! Vic and Tina Smith have strong connections with The Gambia, (my next destination) and purchase batiks from artists there to sell here in the UK. By chance, they just happen to live minutes from London, so of course I took the opportunity to meet them in person.

They are helping me make arrangements for my upcoming visit to The Gambia and I can't thank them enough.

If everything works out, I will soon be staying with their friend Buba Drammeh who creates batiks in his open air studio.

What a relief to have their help and advice. Africa, here I come!

Jenn Adamson

2009-04-01T15:07:00.000-07:00

The Batik Guild is made up of over 200 artists dedicated to promoting the wax-resist medium as fine art and supporting one another in this quest. While the majority of artists in the Guild are based in Britain, overseas members are growing (me for example) and the organization has connections all over the world.

Jenn Adamson was chairman of this remarkable group for nearly ten years and is now the treasurer. She and her husband Stephen have welcomed me into their home/studio in Brighton where I have and will be living and studying for the next week.

Here are two of the kindest, most generous and warm-hearted people I have ever met in my entire life (and that's saying alot!) They are an inspiration to me and I can hardly believe how lucky I am to be with them right now.

Malaysian batik in London

2009-03-25T08:25:00.000-07:00

Can you believe what I saw on the window display of Harrods, London's most well known department store?

A showcase of Malaysian batiks and from Karyaneka, no less!!! It's amazing to see a company I interviewed in Malaysia be at the forefront of British fashion. I guess this is proof that they really have "made it" as they say.

"MALYASIAN CRAFT PROMOTION"

LAUNCHED BY HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN OF MALAYSIA

TUANKU NUR ZAHIRAH

HARRODS, LONDON, FEBRUARY 26, 2009

Rosi Robinson

2009-03-17T16:54:00.000-07:00

My first stop upon arrival to the UK was to visit batik artist Rosi Robinson in her home/studio in Sussex.

Bleary-eyed and jet-lagged, I stepped off the plane and took a taxi directly to Cumnor House School where Rosi teaches the art of batik to her students.

There, I was greeted by a classroom full of lively, blond, beautiful, English children engaged in various acts of creation. Honestly, the shock of seeing so much white skin again after 8 months in Asia was a bit overwhelming.

The idea of wax resisting dye is first introduced by painting washes onto designs of oil pastels/crayons onto paper.

Then, students move on to hot wax and cotton. It's amazing to see such young artists working in such a difficult, not to mention dangerous medium!

Even more astonishing is that Rosi still manages to make time for her own (gorgeous!) batik paintings in her home studio.

UK itinerary

2009-03-05T23:28:00.004-08:00

My adventures in the UK are about to begin!!!

Here's a tentative schedule:

March 16-19th with Rosi Robinson in Sussex

March 20-29th with friends in London

March 30th-April 4th with Jenn Adamson in Brighton

April 5th - 16th with Robin Paris in Cornwall

April 16th - 20 with Isabella Whitworth in Devon

April 20 - 24 with Diane Gaffney in Bishops Castle

April 24 - 26 with Jane Meredith in Hereford

April 27 - 29th with Pat Hodson in Sheffield

April 30 - May 3rd - UK Batik Guild AGM conference in Whitby

May 3rd - ? with Heather Gatt in Whitby

Raining fish

2009-03-05T23:28:00.003-08:00

While in Indonesia, I was inspired by the book Kafka on the Shore, by Murakami Haruki in which falling fish foreshadow acts of violence. An old man, who has the ability to speak to cats is witness to these occurrences.

As symbols of good luck, fish were prevalent in many of the batiks I saw in Indonesia. As a Pisces and a twin, painting fish just felt right. Gradually, I became obsessed with the idea of fish as illuminators of the wrong-doings in our world.

A very realistic and uninspiring first attempt.

More details, symbolism and control. Definite improvement.

The resin in Indonesian batik wax causes the deep dark red color and makes it impossible to see what is beneath. I felt as if I were painting blind.

Indeed, the result was not at all what I was expecting or hoping for.

But Indonesian batiks are all about multiple layers and with some time (not enough) and more than a little frustration, an image appeared from the chaos.

These are figures from the Wayang Kulit - a shadow puppet theater that is integral to Indonesia's culture and heritage.

Only after the fact did I realize I had used the idea of falling fish before. In trying to create something completely new, I had ended right where I started from.

batiks of Indonesia

2009-03-05T23:22:00.001-08:00

natural batik

2009-03-04T23:28:00.000-08:00

Batiks in Indonesia are traditionally made from natural dyes. So many colors with so few ingredients. Amazing!

A wooden OBAMA tjap. HA!!

Kecak Dance of Bali

2009-03-04T01:58:00.000-08:00

Dances are an important part of Indonesian culture, religion and society. This batik was inspired by the Kecak dance I witnessed in Bali.

Of all the dances seen on Bali today, the Kecak dance is perhaps the most dramatic. Taken from the Hindu epic Ramayana, the dance tells the story of Prince Rama and his rescue of Princess Sita, who has been kidnapped by the evil King of Lanka. Unlike other dances, there is no gamelan orchestra accompanying it. Instead, a troupe of over 150 bare-chested men serve as the chorus, making "chak-achak-achak" clicking sounds while swaying their bodies and waving their hands.

batik in bali

2009-03-03T23:23:00.000-08:00

I had an incredible opportunity to meet up with my mentor, Betsy Sterling Benjamin in Bali. What an phenomenal artist and woman!

Tjaps

2009-03-03T01:55:00.000-08:00

They may seem limiting at first, but batik tjaps are so much more versatile than they first appear to be. I had an amazing opportunity to design my own and full took advantage of it.

My own designs inspired by my Pisces zodiac, tiger horoscope and the symbol of Javanese royalty:

Quarterly report #2

2009-02-09T17:08:00.004-08:00

Batik of Another Name

Although the most well-known term for cloth dyed with the wax-resist process is ‘batik’ from the Javanese words ‘amba’ (to write) and ‘titik’ (to dot), the same technique in Japan is termed ‘rozome’ from the Japanese words ‘ro’(to wax) and ‘zome’ (to dye). While it may be true that a “rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” would a batik by any other name look as beautiful? The last three months of my Watson journey has been divided between Japan and Indonesia in search of the answer.

In between visiting numerous rozome masters in their studios, the majority of my time in Japan was spent at the Nara College of Arts and Crafts where I studied with rozome master Chie Otani to create my own paintings of wax and dye. Now in Indonesia, I am staying with the artist couple Nia Fliam and Agus Ismoyo in their batik studio where over 20 batik artists gather to work on a daily basis. The husband (Agus) is a descendent of royal court artisans and his wife (Nia) is an American who graduated with a degree in textile design from Pratt institute. Nia’s one year sojourn in Indonesia turned into a lifetime upon meeting Agus . Together, they have traveled the world creating and spreading their art and in fact just returned from a one year Fulbright fellowship in America. The collaboration between Nia and Ismoyo has resulted in a blending of Eastern with Western cultures, academic knowledge with spiritual feeling, masculine with feminine, traditional with modern, as well as art with craft.

Although the wax-resist process originated elsewhere, it is in Japan and Indonesia where this technique has been most thoroughly developed and integrated into the fabric of their cultural identity. Unlike Thai or Malaysian batik producers, the artists here look to their own heritage and traditions for inspiration instead of focusing on the tastes of the consumer driven western world. The finished cloth is thus a reflection of the environment from which it came – its use, design and method of production a symbol of the people who use and create them.

As a visual expression of the country’s philosophy and aesthetics, batik vs. rozome is as different as night and day. The natural elegance of Japanese kimonos, screens and ‘tableaus’ (wall panels) are in marked contrast to the closely packed designs of Indonesian sarongs, head scarves and wall hangings. It is quite obvious which culture values the Zen philosophies of simplicity, harmony and balance and which adheres to the Javanese ideals of intricacy and complexity. For a through study of rozome, it was thus necessary to study all aspects of Japanese culture, including the art of kimonos (their production as well as design), tea ceremonies, gardens, geisha society and traditional music. Similarly, it was only after experiencing first-hand the warang (shadow puppet) performances, barong/legong, kecek dances, various temples/mosques/shrines, and wedding/funeral ceremonies of Indonesia that I was able to truly understand the rich and symbolic meanings embedded into the batiks here.

In both Japan and Indonesia, batik/rozome has integrated itself to become the national clothing for both these countries. The “kimono passport” which gives discounts to those sporting the Japanese national dress is echoed on an even larger scale by the Indonesian government which requires all government officials to wear batik on Fridays and who are currently implementing batik classes into the core curriculum of public schools. The Japanese as well as Indonesians take incredible pride in this art form and even today rozome/batiks are worn and used by commoners, government officials and royalty alike. As in the past, the ornamentation and method of wearing the garment are still a symbol of the individual’s social status, position and class. Like the variety of knots in a Japanese citizen’s obi, the folds and ties of an Indonesian sarong can tell the observer which family the person belongs to, how much money they have, how old they are and whether they are single or married.

The very act of creating batik has strong symbolic meaning for the Japanese and Indonesian artisans. The difference between the two creative processes however could not be greater. Although both rozome and batik stem from an inner, spiritual plane; one is an exercise in self control and discipline while the other is a practice in letting go of all cognitive thought and inhibitions.

In Japan, even pouring a cup of tea is a meditative process which can take years to master and the “zen of archery” stresses the importance of cultivating unseen powers. If it is possible to tell the thoughts and feelings of a person just from the taste of the tea they brew, one can only imagine what is evident in each finished rozome painting! All wax-resist fabric in Japan is the result of careful thought, planning and execution. The key to success is to control the mind in order to control the body and thus the medium of the artwork. A finished piece should be a replica of the original draft and skillful execution is the sign of a true rozome master. In Japan, I learned the importance of persistence and strived for perfection. Although it took three tries, I was finally able to create a rozome piece that matched the sketch that I had planed for it to be.

While the Japanese meditate to control the mind, the Indonesians meditate to release the mind from all conscious control. In a practice the Javanese call “Kapti Kerdating Sukmo,” the creator of sacred images moves beyond their feelings and thoughts to arrive at a deeper source of creativity and make work that truly comes from the vibrations of the soul. Such artists are called “empu,” a term used to describe masters of the creative process who not only have excellent technical skills, but a deep philosophical grounding and esoteric abilities in the meditative process.

According to Javanese spiritualism, the “world” consists of three dimensions, known collectively as tribawaba. They are: jagad kecil which is consciousness within the self (microcosmos), jagad gumelar or consciousness of the surrounding environment (macrocosmos), and jagad pepadhangor which is consciousness of the ‘golden thread’ that connects humanity with the Divine Creator. In a batik created through the spiritual journey of Kapati Kerdat-ing Sukmo, the artist’s inner self merges the phenomenal world with that of the of divine dimension. From this emerges a vision seen through their inner eye that is not controlled by emotions, thoughts or cognition. In this way, the design of a batik is not only fixed to the cloth, but the meaning of it is engraved ever more deeply in the soul of the artisan. In the Kraton, or Javanese court, batik was one of the six ‘priyayi,” (high arts) studied by the cultured Javanese royalty and along with music and dance, was considered to be a way to develop spiritual discipline. During my time in Indonesia, I am trying my best to follow in the footsteps of these artists to become a “vessel” for this creative energy. Among other things, I have been participating in rituals, talking Javanese dance lessons and going to temples to round out my spiritual attunement. This is all combined with the very academic knowledge of tradition and chemistry that my teachers Nia and Agus Ismoyo bring to their instruction.

As a result of the artist’s mastery of themselves, it would only make sense that the creation of rozome is a highly individual process. Rozome masters see their work as “one of a kind,” fine art pieces (not crafts) and a way to assert themselves to the world. Japanese artists are thus renowned for their secrecy and seclusion, especially from other artists who they consider to be competitors. The art world of Japan has historically been divided into groups made up of strict hierarchies between master and apprentice. Even now it is rare for Japanese artists to exhibit with other artists outside of their core group.

This individualism is in stark contrast to the Indonesian spirit of collaboration. In Javanese, the helping of one another in mutual cooperation is called gotong royang, and is an ancient concept that has particular significance to today’s global society trying to accept ideas of hybridism, diversity and pluralism. As a nation made up of over three hundred and fifty ethnic groups, each with their own customs and languages, it would only make sense that the national motto, “Bhinneka Tunggal Ika,” (Unity in Diversity) is representative of their collaborative mindset. Indonesia’s long history of colonization by other nations and their own maritime nature of going abroad makes partnership with others a logical result of a culture that itself is the outcome of joint help and cooperation with ‘foreigners.’

One of the most fascinating characteristics of Indonesian batik are the changes in style, motif and color which has resulted from their exposure to other cultures. The indigo, brown and white colors prevalent in traditional Indonesian batiks symbolize the three main Hindu gods - Shiva (justice), Vishnu (wisdom) and Brahma (power). Images of birds, lotus flowers and tree life also came from Indian origins and were prevalent until the 17^th century when designs became more geometrical and botanical as a result of the Islamic ban against depictions of people or animals. When Indonesia became a Dutch colony in the later half of the century, the European culture also influenced batiks and even the Japanese occupation of Indonesia (1942-1945) has changed the face of batik in Indonesia. Highly influenced by Japanese designs and motifs, this new category of “Batik Hokokai” is characterized by fine intricate backgrounds and beautifully designed flowers.

Batiks in Indonesia are almost always the result of the collective energy of a group and collaboration is seen as an integral aspect of the creative process. Even the work of a single artist is considered to be in collaboration with the “creative energies” of all empu. My hosts, Nia and Ismoyo thus think of themselves as vehicles for the invisible creative forces and the conjoined energy of all people involved in the creative process. They work together with the 20+ artists of their studio, Brahma Titra Sari (BTS) on a daily basis and have partnered with aboriginal artists from Australia, Malian and Nigerian artists in Africa and only recently finished a Fulbright Fellowship with American students from Western Michigan University.

Although I am trying my best, it has been difficult to let so of my Western, liberal arts educated background which stresses individualism, ownership and conceptual expression. The need to stand apart from others, assert my thoughts and protect my “rights” is the result of my American upbringing and completely contradictory to the Javanese ideal of collaboration. It has thus been a constant struggle to suppress my individual ‘voice” for the sake of the collective and the fear of letting go of control and beliefs is often overwhelming to the point of paralysis.

The drastic differences between the creative process of rozome and batik leads to or perhaps results from the difference in materials and tools that are utilized. The large, balanced compositions of pristine colors in rozome paintings are only possible when the entire fabric is stretched tightly over a frame and the wax painted freely with brushes of natural fiber. Since the dyes are brushed directly onto the cloth, there is no danger of the wax cracking and the brittleness of paraffin wax is overlooked for it’s clear and clean properties. Conversely, batik artists in Indonesia sit on low stools with the cloth they are working on draped over a bamboo frame called gawangagan and use only the surface area of one hand as canvas while the other hand holds the canting (pronounced tjanting) tool – a wax pen from which intricate lines and dots are drawn. The complex designs of Indonesian batik is further aided by the use of caps – copper stamps dipped in hot wax and pressed onto cap tables of cool, damp sponges. The flexibility of un-stretched fabric helps to prevent the wax from breaking and allows for easy immersion into dye baths. Instead of paraffin, the wax here consists of sticky and flexible resin and oil, further insuring that it does not crack in the dying process. The lack of control in the use of open-holed canting tools and dye immersions would drive a rozome artist crazy - but for the Indonesian craftsperson, this spontaneity is ideal and the result is pure magic.

The study of Japanese rozome and Indonesian batik has been a mental, physical and spiritual exploration of the culture and customs around me, the inner space which make up who I am and the unseen energies of the creative process. Drastic differences between the wax-resist techniques of these two countries is confusing and exhausting at times, yet has opened my eyes to all the possibilities of this medium. As a college educated studio art/art history graduate I have always been taught to carefully question, think through, plan and explain every piece of work I produce. Japan’s rigorous control of the rozome medium reiterated this idea and while I am incredibly grateful for the skills I acquired as a result, it has made my spiritual journey in Indonesia all the more difficult. Coming from such an academic and intellectually focused background, I am now asked to let go of all control in order to let the “creative energy” take over and I hardly know where to begin. I have come to realize however that I do not have to chose between mind or spirit in creating my work and gradually I am beginning to find the middle ground in which I belong as an artist and citizen of the world. It is obvious that while rozome and batik are complete opposites in many ways, they are both an integral part of the culture from which they come and equally beautiful in their designs, symbolism and process.

Selamat pagi Indonesia!

2009-01-25T17:30:00.000-08:00

The studio/home of the artist couple Nia Fliam and Agus Ismoyo is the perfect balance of rustic and comfort, spiritual and academic, chaos and order. In the center of a maze of rooms, galleries and work space is a lush inner courtyard where 30 batik artists work every day. Together they make a family in the truest sense of the word.

The husband (Agus) is a descendent of royal court artisans and his wife (Nia) is an American who graduated with a degree in textile design from Pratt institute. Theirs is a story that almost has me convinced that Love does in fact exist. Nia's one year stint in Indonesia turned into a lifetime upon meeting Agus . Together, they have traveled the world creating and spreading their art, and in fact just returned from a one year Fulbright fellowship in America.

Almost everything they create is a collaboration and their love and trust of each other is shown through their art on a daily basis. Established in 1986, their batik studio (Brahma Tirta Sari) is where they explore traditional Javanese batik in contemporary ways. This will be my home for the next two months and I’m sure it will be one of most positive and inspiring forces in my life.

Here, EVERYTHING has a spirit, meaning and energy. The artwork must come from the "heart chakra" and I am asked to turn off my mind. (Not easy, let me tell you!)

I am trying my best to become a "vessel" for this creative energy. Among other things, I will be participating in rituals, talking Javanese dance lessons and going to temples to round out my spiritual attunement. This is all combined with the very academic knowledge of tradition and chemistry that Nia and Agus bring to their work.

Indonesia – what an amazing new world to explore!

Made in Japan

2008-12-26T06:09:00.000-08:00

(Click photos to enlarge)

Rozome (wax resist) pieces

Aizome (indigo dye)

Katazome (rice-paste resist)

Sketchbook

2008-12-26T04:59:00.000-08:00

If there is one thing that I have learned in Japan, it's the importance of my sketchbook. Rozome pieces do not just appear out of thin air but from careful planing and thought. A good sketch is the foundation of any finished piece without which I would be completely lost. All of the work I made in Japan were the result of small scale drawings that grew into something more.

Musee de Some Seiryu

2008-12-21T04:08:00.000-08:00

In the heart of Kyoto is a gallery devoted to the art of textile dying. The current exhibition showcases a group of five promising young artists.

This rozome artist has a unique style all her own. Instead of blocking in large patches of color, she instead waxes around her image, leaving the thinnest gaps you can imagine. The results after dying are rozome drawings that are both simple and elegant.

If at first you don't succeed...

2008-12-21T02:55:00.000-08:00

TRY, TRY AGAIN!!!!

A small stone shinto shrine

This drawing is what I was aiming for

The first layer of wax and dye - I had such high hopes!

Last layer of color

Wax removal with gasoline

Steam fix

Interesting, but not what I wanted. It's too dark and the texture is distracting.

Second attempt was even worse!

Third time's the charm!

It took three tries, but I finally got it right!

Rozome techniques

2008-12-21T00:50:00.000-08:00

The possibilities of painting with wax are endless!

Paint on a slant for interesting drips

careful brushwork

brush prints

Splattered through newspaper

multiple layers

Straight lines made with ruler

Roll on wax

Look closely at the textures and shapes. Can you see the half-resist?

Han-bosen technique

2008-12-21T00:22:00.000-08:00

Han-bosen translates to "half-resist" and is a technique of creating shading by varying the thickness of the wax. This is what elevates Japanese rozome to true fine art and sets it apart from all other batiks of the world. Here, rozome master Mitsuo Takaya demonstrates this difficult technique.

Sketch outline onto the back of the work.

The thickness of wax is controlled by the speed and pressure of the brush as well as the temperature of the wax. To create maximum thickness, each layer of wax must be cool before the next one is painted on. Thin areas are made by painting on hot wax quickly and with maximum brush pressure.

Details are possible by using a sharp object to scratch away wax

Penetrating oil is the secret ingredient added to the dye which allows it to go though the wax and create shading.

The dye is rubbed in with a flat "surikome" brush. Where the wax is thin, the color will penetrate, making shadows and texture.

If the shading is not enough, the wax can be further scratched away with a hard bristle brush and dyed again.

A three-dimensional hand painted with wax. Amazing!

A piece of paper can be used as a tool to create faint shapes and outlines.

Another method is to thin the wax by melting it with a blow dryer

Paint more wax on top of thinned wax

And watch the pattern emerge as dye is painted on.

My own attempts at Han-bosen. It's even more difficult than it first appears!

Gojiru

2008-12-20T23:44:00.000-08:00

Gojiru is a mixture of soybeans, kelp and water which is brushed onto fabric before dye is applied. This keeps the colors vibrant and reduces the appearance of those annoying streaks that occur when painting large patches of fabric. (Used for direct dyes, not fiber reactive dyes).

Dried Kelp

Add Water

Heat until desolved

Soak Soybeans for at least 4 hours

Blend until smooth - like soy milk!

Squeeze through cheesecloth

Mix kelp water with soy milk together and voila - gojiru!

Paint onto rozome piece before dyeing.

Katazome Process

2008-12-20T21:06:00.000-08:00

Like rozome, katazome is a Japanese method of dyeing fabrics using a resist. Instead of wax however, rice flour paste is what repels the dye and creates the design.

Sketch a design on paper making sure all black areas connect

Trace onto stencil paper and cut out design with knife.

(The stencil is made of several sheets of mulberry paper laminated with rice paste and tanned with persimmon juice which is very acidic and makes the laminated paper strong and waterproof).

Prime a wood board with watered down rice paste.

This will act as the glue that holds the fabric in place.

Attach fabric onto board with the help of some water.

Place stencil and silk screen on top of fabric

Apply rice paste resist

A perfect, uniform thickness is important.

Too thick and it will crack, too thin and the dye will go through.

Remove the stencil and screen

Sprinkle on some sawdust to prevent rice paste from sticking.

Stretch with "shing-shi" and wait two days to dry completely.

Apply "gojiru" (soybean/kelp water) to back of each piece. Allow to dry.

Finally ready to paint! I used acid dyes for the three silk pieces and direct dyestuff on the cotton.

After drying completely, they are rolled into many layers of newspaper and steamed.

The rice paste is washed off with lukewarm water.

Hang to dry.

Finished!

Nishijin Textile Center

2008-12-20T18:44:00.000-08:00

The beautiful fabrics created in the Nishijin district of Kyoto are a symbol of Japanese tradition. These textiles developed through the course of 1,000 years of Kyoto's history as the capital of Japan. Although they are most famous for Nishijin-ori (Nishijin weaving), I was able to discover a few rozome artists in their midst.

Although the shop and museum left a little to be desired, the kimono fashion show I saw made the trip more than worthwhile. What a dazzling display of colors, fabrics and designs!

Nishijin History
About 1,500 years ago, a branch of the powerful Hata clan, the descendants of the immigrants from the continent, arrived in this area. With their arrival, the Kyoto basin became central to Japan's history. Settling in the Uzumasa district of west Kyoto, they brought with them new farming methods, as well as knowledge of silkworms and the manufacture of silk fabrics. The economic power of the Hata clan was a strong motive behind Emperor Kanmu's decision to move the capital to this area 12 centuries ago.

Much of Kyoto, including the weaver's district was destroyed by fire during the Onion War in the 15th century. The weavers returned to Kyoto after the war ended however and one group settled in the Omiya area, on the site of the western army's main camp during the Onion War. This later became known as Nishijin (western camp) textile district.

Kyoto, including the Nishijin district, declined with the civil and political disturbances of the Imperial Resteration in 1868 as well as the transfer of the capital to Tokyo. However, as Japan began a period of rapid modernization, the Nishijin district also revived with new energy, Aided by the Kyoto Prefecture government, the Nishijin district soon introduced modern, Western-style industrial methods. In 1872, Tsuneshichi Sakura and other representatives were sent to study in Europe. They brought back new technology from France and Austria, such as the jacard loom and the slying shittle. Modernization of the Japanese silk textile industry thus began in Nishijin. Western technology was firmly entrenched by about 1888.

Art is...

2008-11-21T00:30:00.000-08:00

P. 83

“Isn’t it strange how most significant human activity has to do with loss? Because we lose things we try to find them. The trying sends us on a journey. We encounter other things, things we hadn’t noticed that we had lost: and then we create. Art springs out of both Alienation and loss. Art replaces what we have lost in spirit. It is therefore a magic replacement. And so it would seem that art is a condition of unease, of dislocation, of being out of it all, an exile. Art cannot come from the happy and contented, from the lucky and the beautiful, from the blessed and the whole, unless an unrevealed tragic condition or premonition dwells under it all like an unseen volcano or an unsuspected cataclysm about to wipe away all that unnatural tranquility. The last days of beautiful things are the most artistic. It seems then that art is a secret sign of dwelling under a guillotine, under a swinging sign of doom, under a hidden question mark, beneath the dread of death, in unwholeness, wanting to be healed and to heal, with a whiff of mortality and the inferno in one’s spirit, with a sense of sin, of unredemption. It seems that art is a magic plea, a magic howl, an enchanted cry, a delaying of madness, a deflection of insomnia, a canalizing of negative energies. Art is finding one’s way in the dark, seeing with one’s fingers, divining water in the desert, creating an abstract realm made up in the mind of others to replace the realms of childhood and innocence lost for ever with the death of a mother. Art is finding a new homeland, and yet always setting sail. It is being deceived and lured by the gods into roaming cities behind in search of that which can never be found, but which keeps moving like a bird, a magic bird, or a love, or an ocean. But it keeps driving us on, keeps us going, till the skeleton wanders into a golden gate, and into a sunlit landscape where the sunlight is a perpetual darkness, while another part of us has ceased its wanderings, having found what it was looking for in a place where nothing is ever lost or found, a place without a name or an idea. Which is why there is a fatality in finding, and an agony in seeking. But between seeking and finding there is another place, a special place, and maybe it is such a place that we journey towards now...we are journeying towards an elusive thing in the desert, where thirst is quenched miraculously in the air, and the fragrance of a great love lingers in the shade…”

p. 93

“Let me tell you the secret of the butterfly. The beauty of the butterfly’s wings is a disguise, a secret language. To us, they are just beautiful, but they conceal another purpose. They are used to communicate with other butterflies. That is what art is. It's the hidden speaking to the hidden. All art is a secret language, a double language. And it does something other than what it appears to be doing. Sometimes it is effecting a secret cure on our spirit while being coruscating on the outside. Art has a sphinx-like quality, a faintly sinister quality. The sinister intelligence of the double function. Art is the ultimate spy. And you know that’s what our journey is. It has many secret languages, and secret purposes. And we’ll discover them as we go along. And we’ll fail on the way. I don’t mind failure; it’s something to get past on the way to greatness.”

An Artist of the Floating World

2008-11-20T23:28:00.000-08:00

Many of the rozome artists that I have met lived during post-war Japan and their work often reflects those troubled times. By reading An Artist of the Floating World, by Kazuo Ishiguro, I have come to better understand what life was like for Japanese artists before and after WWII. It seems that the pro-war stance that led to the initial success of many artists was also their downfall at the end of the war.

I now understand the importance of belonging to an artist group and the strict hierarchies, divisions and rules that exist in the art world of Japan. The rivalry between pupils as well as the power that a master has over them was eye-opening and shocking.

Now I see why many rozome artists felt it necessary to break free, even if it does make life more difficult for them.

Wow, am I glad to be a free artist!

Kusakabe Masao's katazome art

2008-11-20T19:06:00.001-08:00

Katazome is a type of textile art that like rozome, uses a resist and dye to make a design on fabric. In this case, the resist is made of rice paste which is applied over a stencil.

These works by Kusakabe Masao illustrates katazome at its best.

Kyoto Seika University

2008-11-19T05:16:00.001-08:00

The rozome courses here are not listed under Fine Art, but rather the Dept. of Material Expression. Here are some student work lead by their great teacher, Takaya-sensei. What a lucky bunch of kids!!!

Katsuji Yamede's Kimono Art

2008-11-15T07:31:00.000-08:00

In a time when kimonos are so rarely worn or sold, Katusuji Yamade's dedication to this art form is commendable. During my visit to his studio, he describes the frustrations and struggles of working in a field that in the span of a few short years, has become antiquated and lost in a country that values tradition so highly. Once the typical attire of all Japanese, kimonos have now almost disappeared from daily life.

As a result, most rozome artists have moved away from kimonos in favor of creating panels or tableau that more closely resemble the fine art paintings of the Western world. While Yamade-san is still dedicated to his kimono work; in order to survive, he has also had to follow the example of his peers in creating paintings instead of garments.

It is frustrating to him however that his panels are often cited as art while his kimonos are considered craft. Looking down at his hands, he says that these same hands went into making both pieces—yet one work is accepted in an art exhibition, while the other is rejected as a common day object.

Yamade attributes this distinction between art and craft to the influence of the West during the nineteenth century. Before that time there was no separation between the two in Japan and the work of artists and craftsmen alike was described as “kogei.” During the Vienna exposition in 1873 however, Japan found it necessary to create the word “bijutsu” to describe the style of art at the exposition while the word “craft” was then adapted to explain the other aspect of Japanese kogei. In this way kimonos were separated from fine art to become simple craft.

Seikiko Yamade—his wife and fellow artist explains that contemporary artists look down on craft not because it serves a function (as I have always thought), but because it is too restrictive. There are simply too many rules and limits in craft compared to art.

It is interesting that what defines art today is ease of creation and wild creativity. While free expression is all well and good, I question whether this just means that artists have become too lazy to create the meticulous and intricate items they shun as craft? I have seen the trend throughout art history and in individual artists to move from carefully and concisely made pieces to works of wild abandon. The intricate paintings of the Renaissance for example have given way to the abstract forms, uncontrolled rendering and strange new mediums of today. Has the definition of Art become exactly the OPPOSITE of what it used to be? Is fine art defined by a LACK of control and skill? In short, why are kimonos no longer considered art?

Societal Themes in Takaya Mitsuo's Rozome Art

2008-11-06T07:48:00.000-08:00

Born at the height of WWII, Takaya Mitsuo has in his words, “been an anti-war protester since birth.” The rozome pieces that he creates thus reflects his experience of war and such social themes makes him a rarity and true gem in the textile art world.

Growing up in a family with a kimono business, Takaya has always been around textiles. It was not until 1961 however that he entered Kyoto City University of Arts to begin the studying textile dying in earnest.

After working three years in a kimono company, Takaya decided to leave it behind in order to dedicate himself to his artwork. In the postwar period however, works which used craft techniques such as rozome were rarely recognized as art. In spite of this, Takaya continued to submit pieces to the Japan Independent Exhibition sponsored by the Nihon Bijustukai association and at the age of 32, his work was accepted by Nitten Exhibition for the first time.

Traditionally, Japanese artists are banded into groups with rigid stratifications between and inside each. As a member of the Nihon Gendai Kogei Bijistuka Kodai (Japan Contemporary Artists’ Society) and later, the Nihon Shinkogei Renmei (Japan New Industrial Artists’ Federation, commonly known as Shinkogei), Takaya felt trapped and confined by the polarized relationships of peers and mentors within the groups. In 1991, he finally made the decision to leave and as a result, was rejected from many exhibitions without membership in an artist’s organization.

However, it meant that Takaya was no longer confined to the natural motifs which had characterized his work up to that point, and thus free to find his own unique identity as an artist. This allowed Takaya to express the hardships he experienced during WWII and later, the American war in Vietnam. His anti-war sentiments have thus become the major theme in his work and passing on these values to the younger generation his ultimate goal.

The most important step of Takaya’s creative process is the initial sketch because to him, the content of the work is most important. He is constantly searching for purpose and meaning in his paintings and insists that his students do the same. It is his personal belief that “beauty, in its most essential form, results from self-searching and the pursuit of truth.”

From these initial thumbnail sized drawings he creates increasingly detailed and larger sized drafts before the final work is even started. The tall stack of sketchbooks that has accumulated through the years is simply incredible.

This meeting with the rozome master Takaya Mitsuo has inspired me to be more mindful about the meaning behind every piece I create. What exactly am I trying to say and why? What is the point of making this work? From these ideas come small sketches which are the seeds that grow into a monumental piece of art. This is how I will continue in his footsteps to find truth and meaning in my art.

Quarterly Report #1

2008-10-31T05:04:00.000-07:00

In the last three months, the path of molten wax has lead me from my home in America to Thailand, Malaysia and now Japan. There have been many unexpected discoveries along the twists and turns but the biggest surprise of all was how much each foreign place has reminded me of my past and where I came from. It turns out that I took a leap into the unknown only to land promptly back down at my roots.

I have always assumed that most Chinese Nationalists were like my grandparents who fled to Taiwan after the Cultural Revolution. What a surprise it was to find that Thailand was another option in which to create a new life for themselves. With over 8.5 million Chinese immigrants, Thailand has more overseas Chinese than any other country in the world! I wondered what sort of person I would have become if my grandparents had ended up in Thailand instead of Taiwan? As I painted my images of fruit, sea creatures, and colorful landscapes, I daydreamed about what my life could have been like in this beautiful land of plenty.

Although batiks are often sold around the world as a “traditional” Thai product, they too are immigrants from another land—originating either from neighboring China to the north, or Indonesia to the south. Like the people however, they have adapted to the lush and colorful landscape of this country. It is obvious that batiks have become an important part of Thailand, both culturally and economically. There is a drastic difference however between Thai batik and Batik in Thailand. The first is a product of Thailand, the second is sold in Thailand. Thai batik has expanded with the growth of tourism and is now an essential source of income for many artists here. The bright colors and lively designs of these “tourist” batiks are representative of this country, providing visitors with a memento of Thailand even if the fabric itself is not representative of batik in Thailand.

In Malaysia, it was impossible not to be identified as Chinese in a country so strictly divided between the Chinese, Malay and Indian populations. The hatred and distrust between them is hardly a surprise when ethnicity determines one’s portion of the government funded pie. As the minority, the Chinese are sick of being handed the left-over crust.

I had not known before I arrived that there was a difference between being Malay and being Malaysian. Imagine my surprise to discover that here, the birthplace of your ancestors is actually more important than your own! In the competitive fashion world of Malaysian batik, a lack of government support and funding is devastating to the batik artists and entrepreneurs of Indian or Chinese descent.

Batiks are ubiquitous on the streets, stores, runways and museums of Malaysia—making them a public statement of this divide between ethnicities. While almost all Malaysians have garments made of batik fabric; the Islamic religion of the Malays limits them to wearing loose, long-sleeved “baju kurungs” and “baju kebayas,” while the Chinese traditionally sport form fitting “qipaos” and the Indians prefer batik “saris” or “salwar kameez”.

Although all ethnicities wear batik, the Malays insist on claiming it as their own since it is their ancestors who brought it over from the Malay Peninsula of Indonesia. The result is a sort of secret society in which batik techniques and processes are horded and hidden. As the premier center of batik study in Malaysia, The National Craft Institute (IKN) is made up of 95% Malay students and shows just how unbalanced the industry is. This is a constant frustration for the many Chinese, Indian and ex-patriot batik designers and artists who are barred from batik instruction, supplies and funding. What many Malays don’t realize is that in the process of keeping batik to themselves, they are also hiding it from potential clients and customers of batik. A French designer describes batik as a "sunset industry" which is dying because of the secrecy and distrust between designers, manufacturers and suppliers. Thus, artists and entrepreneurs of all ethnicities must work together if Malaysian batik is to survive.

The government does see batik as a important part of Malaysian heritage and attempts have been made to keep the medium alive. They host batik conventions yearly, bring designers to fashion shows abroad and even mandate that all government officials and school children wear batik on Fridays. For the most part however, such efforts have centered around erasing the image of batik as “boring” and “traditional” and bringing new, contemporary batik garments into main-stream international fashion. While these events have been successful in introducing batiks to the world, it has been done at the expense of the intricately colorful designs that have always demarcated true “Malaysian” batik.

Now in Japan, I am reminded once again of my tiny birth-country of Taiwan. Not only is the food, culture, landscape and language similar but in terms of appearance, I blend right in – an experience I am not accustomed to after growing up in the Mid-West of America. After just a few short days in Japan, I already feel completely at home in this peaceful country, at ease with the artists I have met and a close bond with my classmates at the Nara College of Arts and Crafts who have all been so eager to share their knowledge and love of Rozome with me.

The Japanese form of batik is called “rozome” after “ro” which means “wax” and “zome” meaning “to dye.” A technique used traditionally for decorating Kimonos and screens, the number of Rozome artists has also declined with the drop in Kimono wearing and sales. Unlike Malaysia however, the Japanese see that the solution lies in embracing their culture—not erasing it. Instead of hosting events that feature new, modern designs taken from Western designers, Rozome events here focus on educating foreigners and youngsters on the importance of this art to Japan and it’s unique and rich history. Not just government officials, but all citizens and even foreigners are encouraged to wear kimonos everyday as a result of the “kimono passport” which gives discounts on entry tickets, taxi fares and store merchandise for those sporting the traditional Japanese look.

Japanese rozome further brings me back to my Chinese roots with its simple elegance, focus on balance and earth toned colors. Even the kimono itself is a garment heavily influenced by traditional Han Chinese clothing as a result of Japanese embassies to China in the fifth century.

Problems and interactions between cultures; as well as visa and immigration issues, have made me think of and question the line “good fences make good neighbors” from Robert Frost’s “Mending Wall” in which one man questions why he and his neighbor must rebuild the stone wall dividing their farms each spring. What is the point of theses fences between countries and how can we break them down peacefully without violence and war? Why does one country feel the need to overtake another and why do people feel a need for nationality? What is in a name? If the entire world were one name, would we be able to co-exist peacefully and help each other when necessary? I want desperately to believe in a peaceful and harmonious world without borders but ask myself how it can be possible when it is human nature to put up walls between ourselves? Why are some people so open and willing to allow different people and new ideas in while others simply close themselves against them?

After three months, I have become accustomed to the fact that there is no one around me in which to ask or answer my questions. Thus, I am learning to listen to myself and accept that there is no one around to admire or condemn my bouts of inspiration. Lonely at first, I now find that I am able to think more slowly and look more closely at the world around me when there is no pressure to maintain a conversation. Every day I open my eyes to new things and am amazed at the infinite variety of colors, shapes and patterns that appear. Somehow my own creativity drives me more than grades or teachers ever have and I feel the need to simply produce as quickly as I can, before the vision escapes me. Artist’s block was and still is my greatest fear for this journey and this flood of inspiration is a relief. The problem so far has been in choosing between all of the ideas I have and I cannot wait to make them into reality. With each new creation of wax and dye on fabric, I hope to move one step closer to the answer of my questions. Although there will be many detours and obstacles in my way, I know I will never truly be lost because in the end, it is the journey that matters, not the destination.

Wax Removing Factory

2008-10-31T03:45:00.000-07:00

It was an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to look inside the factory where wax is removed, dyes are set and kimonos are cleaned. An industry renowned for its secrecy, such companies are just now starting to open their doors in an effort to educate the public to the process--an art in its own right.

1. In order to be cleaned, kimonos much first be completely taken apart!

2. The fabric runs through this hot machine,

3. ...and the wax drips out from here.

4. Wax is then completely removed with gasoline, of all things!!! Unlike the wax removal process used in Malaysia and Thailand, the colors are not boiled out with the hot water.

5. Dye colors are fixed in these two huge rooms.

6. Two huge rolls of fabric, fresh out of the oven!

7. Each roll can hold five kimonos at a time, no small feat!

8. Silk is then washed in cold, pristine ground water. The quality of the water here is VERY important.

9. Finally, the finished fabric is hung to dry.

The Music of Wax and Dye

2008-10-31T03:30:00.000-07:00

This exhibition combines the art of music with fine art. Although every work in the gallery was inspired by the same piece of music, each artist created a work that is distinctly their own.

Husband and wife: Composer and Musician.

The artist Kiyomi Yatsuhashi with her Rozome piece.

Rozome Master: Okubo Naomaku

2008-10-31T03:24:00.000-07:00

It was an incredible feeling to be surrounded by these Rozome masters! At bottom left is the artist of this solo exhibition. What an honor to meet him!

Nara College Student Exhibition

2008-10-31T03:05:00.002-07:00

I love the students of Nara College of Arts and Crafts who have generously shared their knowledge and love of Rozome with me!

Here are just a few examples of student work