Showing posts with label research. Show all posts
Showing posts with label research. Show all posts

Sunday, October 15, 2017

A Leather Table Carpet (inspiration and examples)

I was a bit wrong, and a bit right. When the book came in, I located the relevant section, only to find I'd mis-remembered the story of the burned leather carpet.  The story is in the The Connoisseur's Complete Period Guides (to the Houses, Decoration, Furnishings and Chattels of the Classic Periods), page 239
Leather Hangings
Conspicuous among the furnishings of the richer homes in Tudor times were the so-called 'Spanish leather' hangings. Although originating in Spain, perhaps as early in the eleventh century, this type of decorative leather, varying in detail, was eventually made in all the principal European countries. England apparently excelled in the making of gilded, embossed and painted panels for mural decorations,  (Fourgeroux de Bondaroy in a report to the Academy of France, Descriptions des Arts et Metiers, 1762) but there is no record or any organized craft of leather gilders. It therefore appears probable that only a handful of craftsmen were concerned with this somewhat exotic product; and those not much before the early years of the seventeenth century. Earlier hangings must therefore have been imported, probably chiefly from France and the Low Countries. Leather hangings were not purely decorative: they were esteemed because they were not affected by damp or insects, could be cleaned by sponging and retained their brilliance indefinitely. An article in the Illustrated London News for 11 October, 1851, states: 'About 1531 or 1532, Henry VIII built a manor-house near Eastham Church in Essex, with a high square tower, that during her sort of year or probation, Anne Boleyn might enjoy the prospect of the Royal Park at Greenwich. This tower had hangings of the most gorgeous gold leather, which remaining until fifty years since, when the house coming into the hands of a proprietor with no especial love for the memory of the Bluff Harry, nor the sad hauntings of the fate of Anne Boleyn, nor the old art and workmanship of leather decoration, but a clear perception that in so many yards of gilt leather there must be some weight of real gold, had the tapestries [sic] torn down, sent to the goldsmith's furnace, ad some £60 gathered from the ashes.' Whilst real gold-leaf was undoubtedly used on occasion, usually the effect was produced by covering the leather with silver or tin-foil and then applying successive layers of yellow varnish. The decline of leather hangings seems to have resulted in part from changing fashions, and in part form the introduction of the cheaper embossed paper embossed paper wall-coverings, to the earliest of which the leather gilders turned their hands.

I cannot verify the Illustrated London News story, there are no local archives, and their online archives are behind a paywall.  The Connoisseur Guide was a periodical before it was collected into book form, the copyright years are 1956, 1957, 1958, with "First published as one complete volume 1968"

There is however, very little in the way of surviving exemplars, later in the same section (p. 240) is a reference to another one that serves as the inspiration
from Ham House, Richmond, Surrey
Plate 84(a) from The Connoisseur's Complete Period
Guides (Tudor Section) - "
The only known example of a
leather 'carpet', probably a bed cover, forming part of the
seventeenth-century furnishings of the Queen's Room, Ham
House (discarded in the eighteenth century).  Of shaved
hide, silvered, embossed and painted, the background in
opaque light grey, flowers and foliage in transparent glazes
through which the silver still gleams.  This particular example
is probably of the mid-seventeenth century, Dutch, but leather
carpets are mentioned as early as 1423.
Ham House, Richmond, Surrey"
... Leather 'carpets', that is to say overs for furniture such as beds and tables, are mentioned as early as 1423 in an inventory of the wardrobe of Henry VI, being made of Spanish leather. But no example was known to have survived until one was found in the attics of Ham House, Richmond, dating from the Restoration period. ... The technique employed for ornamentation is interesting and unusual. Natural (undyed) sheepskin was placed over patterns cut in relief on wooden blocks, and subjected to a rubbing, probably with a wood or bone 'slicker'. This bruised the surface of the leather where there was contact with the raised design below, leaving charming patterns in brown on the biscuit-coloured leather. Gilt leather piping and tassels enhanced the effect.

Ham House Marble Dining Room Hanging
from the Marble Dining Room, Ham House, Surrey
Having found an examplar, I went looking to see if it had survived into the modern day.  It had.  Ham House is now part of the National Trust, and there are color pictures, though unfortunately, not as detailed as I like.  The ornamentation does say "Jacobean" to me, more than Tudor/Elizabethan.  According to this link, leather hangings were used in dining rooms because they did not retain smells. 

I now had a search term, "Leather Hangings" dropped into assorted search engines got me a link to the Cooper Hewett museum, and a leather wallcovering from circa 1750, also Dutch.  Looking for other items classified the same way, the Cooper Hewett has 16 examples of "leather, stamped, painted, silvered" dated from 1680 through 1750.

Additional links:

Description of repairing/replacing A Leather Wall Covering at Cheverny, a seventeenth century french chateau
From the V&A, a leather panel from between 1500 and 1600 (4" by about 6") the museum has more examples, but this is one of the oldest

From the Cooper Hewett Museum

Thursday, October 12, 2017

A Leather Table Carpet (gathering materials)

Before Research, gathering materials.


There is something intriguing about falling down a rabbit hole.  This one has two sources, a copy of "The Connoisseur's Complete Period Guides to the Houses, Decoration, Furnishing and Chattels of the Classic Periods" and a friend with a club membership for Tandy Leather that he would allow me to make use of.

I bought a deer hide and some leather-friendly paint, to see if it's possible to make something out of it.  Not gloves (though the leather is butter soft and almost hole free.

Many years ago I bought a book, a compilation of the styles in furnishings in the years between 1500 and 1860 reading in the section about the Tudor (1500-1603) and Stuart (1603-1714) I read about a leather tablecloth/covering/carpet that someone of a later age threw on a fire for the gilding on it, the person who did it got, if I recall correctly, 5 pounds gold (I don't know if it was the monetary unit or the weight).  Feel free to creeble, bemoan, or curse the destruction of something unique, I'll wait.

The Connoisseur's Complete Period Guides to the Houses, Decoration, Furnishing and Chattels of the Classic Periods
Not the copy I bought,
(mine has no dust jacket)
By the way, in the early 19th century, people used to take medieval ecclesiastical vestments and pick the gold embroidery off of it, because it was just old stuff, and hey, gold!

I've not found any other reference to leather table-coverings in the Tudor era or earlier, and I've misplaced the book, so before I wanted to start making anything, I went hunting on Amazon.  The book cost less than the shipping.  Not bad considering the copy I had many-many years ago was more.  A lot more.


Saturday, May 21, 2016

A Lined Coat for Pennsic - Planning

I have been freezing at Pennsic since I first attended, and over the years, have bought wool fabric while there to act as impromptu cloaks (and even bought the occaisional cloak from merchants) and blankets. I determined that it was time to make or purchase a coat to wear when it gets too cold for comfort.

I originally wanted to make a Viking caftan (directions at Simple Viking Garb for Men and Simple Viking Garb for Women, with some illustrations at this site and this one.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, 1996
1996.78.1
Didn't get around to it, and got distracted by this at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the attendant article by Nobuko Kajitani ("A Man's Caftan and Leggings from the North Caucasus of the Eighth to Tenth Century: A Conservator's Report": Metropolitan Museum Journal, v. 36 (2001)) at this site. The original is linen lined with fur (I presume flatlined, given the article). It included an exploded view of the caftan, which I was able to expand out to make a mock up. It felt comfy.

Compromises:

The original is:
linen
trimmed with narrow bits of silk brocade
lined in the body and possibly the sleeves with fur.

My copy will be (I hope)
Linen I can get (stash!), though I bought some from World of Isabella and put aside for reasons.
brocade, at least partly silk I can get (again, stash)
fur in the quantities needed I cannot. I compromise here with a wool cloth from my stash, it is soft, quite warm, and I have a quantity of it suitable for making a mid-calf length caftan.


Because this is intended for Pennsic wear, I put aside the fabric from World of Isabella because I wanted to dye the linen to a color that wouldn't show Pennsic Mud Stains that much (tea dying), and fabric from stash probably cost $2-3 a yard, not over $10. I think the wool I intend to use was a similar price, I've had it long enough.

Monday, May 25, 2015

Making Candied Orange Peel

This comes with a story.


dredging (almost done)
My grandmother was not a good cook (there is a family tale involving her cooking a ham, "cloves" and "why does the ham go 'clink' when I carve it?"  Apparently carpet tacks were involved.).  My mother preferred to cook if they were both eating.  She did make certain things well, but dining at her house could be ... interesting.

One thing she did make decently was candied orange peel.  When I decided to try my hand at making it, I went looking for a recipe.

This was the early 1990's everything I found featured corn syrup.  I went looking through the collection of cookbooks. (6' of bookshelves, with odd items in it, like a Junior League cookbook from New Orleans, and Elinor Fettiplace's Reciept Book).

I finally found a usable recipe in a book that dated to WWII, I think my mother was given it as a wedding present, complete with "Wartime Ration Supplement"

Ingredients:
peel from 4 oranges
2 cups sugar
1 cup water
additional sugar (about 4 cups)
(this recipe scales well, so long as you keep in mind the 1 orange, 1/2 cup sugar, 1/4 water ratio, I made it for 200 for a coronation dayboard many-many years ago)

Cook the peel submerged in water until the peel is soft (I have found it takes about 90 minutes.  Don't forget about it.  The peel smells dreadful if it burns.  The peel will try to float, but if you put a plate or bowl on the top of the peel, it will stay submerged.

from l-r
pith, scraped peel, unscraped peel
Remove the saucepan from the water and pour the water off, and either reserve it or use fresh water as the 1 cup used to make the syrup.

Using a cutting board and a cooking spoon/tablespoon, scrape the pith from the peel and discard it, keeping only the zest/orange portion of the peel.  The pith is bitter, and the cooking makes the peel soft and seems to alleviate the bitterness.

sliced peel
Once all the peel has been scraped, cut it into strips about a 1/4" wide and put it aside.  It will fill a bowl, and drain any excess water.

Make a simple syrup of the water from cooking the peel, or use fresh water if you like.  When the sugar has dissolved and the syrup is hot, add the peel back in.  (even if you've drained the peel, there's a great deal of water trapped in it).


cooked until translucent
Cook the peel, stirring occasionally until the peel has gone translucent  (it will take over an hour).  Remove the peel from the syrup and spread it on a cookie tray on wax paper to dry overnight.  If you want to keep the syrup (it goes nicely in hot tea), filter it to get the last of the peel out of it, and to get rid of any other bits of orange that may have crept in.
drying over night


In the morning, dredge the peel through the additional sugar and put it in a sealed container.  It keeps decently in the refrigerator.


Sunday, October 19, 2014

I was recently offered a free Dorset fleece from a woman who saw me carding some shetland wool (good timing, I'd almost run out of fleece). She owns some sheep of that breed, and the alternative to giving the fleece away is throwing it out, or giving it to someone to use for insulation. She'd like to think it's being used productively, I think. Naturally, I accept.

All that is left of the Shetland
I have enjoyed taking the Shetland from a bag full of “stuff off the sheep, complete with pre- and post-sheep vegetable matter” to “so much fluffy stuff!!!” It has gone up in volume, but I have enjoyed every bit, since it came home from Rhinebeck.

Having agreed and given her my email address, I returned to playing with cards, shetland, and talking with the public about how much effort went into making the clothes on their back (cue the 1:10 ratio lecture going from the cloth to the sheep) in the pre-Industrial Age, and how an important portion of yearly wages could be the clothes on your back.

Here begins a month long story that went eventually to low farce. It took her a couple of weeks to locate the fleece. Then she had to put them in her truck. The email address I'd given her is not one I check as often as I should. We exchanged phone numbers, but I didn't notice when she called. Thank heavens for voicemail.

Thursday I actually left work on time, but she had headed home early because of bad weather. We talked, and I gave her my address with the assurance that if the weather was good, she could leave the fleece on the porch, and my husband could bring in. I went to work as normal, got out at “normal for me” getting home to no fleece on the porch, and none in the house (other than what is already there). It looked like she hadn't dropped it off on her way to South Jersey as I had thought she would, based on the phone call. Another missed connection, and I chalked it up to such, checking email for a chunk of the evening.

Then the phone rang. I looked down, recognized the number and tried to pick up before it went to voicemail. I didn't, but went down to turn on the outside light and stick my head out. A strange truck was outside. It turns out she had found the road, but the house numbers weren't visible. It turns out she's a biologist, which at least explains why her workday was cut short by bad weather.

full bag in back
She explained that the fleece was in the garbage bags in the back of her truck and went to get them.

She wasn't kidding about the garbage bags. One, full to almost to overflowing, the second half full. I thanked her profusely, and she headed for home after getting directions back to the main highway. I took my loot and put it away.

It's currently on the enclosed porch, subject to being stored in the garage to freeze any kind of critters that might have hitched a ride
This morning I started researching Dorset sheep and came to the following conclusions:

  1. Dorset sheep produce about 5-7 lbs of wool a year. This has got to be the wool off of more than one sheep. I think this has got to be at least the product of at least 5-10 sheep. It's a very light gray/just off white color, but that might be because it hasn't been washed yet.  Full bag seems to have 15-20 lbs, not full bag seems to have about 10 lbs in it
  2. I should wash “the stuff off the sheep” in 1-2 lb lots. In a sifting kitty litter pan. This is more than one lot of sheep stuff, and I have to scrub down the pan before I use it. A lot.   Either that, or I need to go looking for a local wool processing mill.  (Done.  I cannot afford that, even if I drive the stuff to the mill myself.)
  3. It feels very nice, and smells like sheep. I'm looking forward to processing it.
  4. The fluffy mass of Shetland
    I need to check what I did and what I used when I washed the Shetland fleece.  (Done, it's over on Livejournal, here and there.  There are also pictures.)
  5. I need to spread out the Shetland and take pictures of it. The last time I tied, the battery on the phone was almost dead.  (Accomplished, see right)
  6. I need to buy more shampoo/ivory soap/dawn dish soap. I'm sure I don't have enough.
  7. I'm not jealous of anyone who got to go or plans to go to Rhinebeck.  I have enough fiber to keep me busy for the next couple of years.
Anyone want some smelly sheep stuff?

Saturday, August 30, 2014

A project holder (part 0)

The backstory:

I have a knitting project (a rather complex sock in almost laceweight yarn with size 1 needles) that I've cast on 4 times, and am about to start for a 5th time.

The first time, I didn't have the number of stitches correct, so when I began the pattern, it didn't work, so I tore it out.  Luckily, this happened at row 5, so no big deal.

The second time, a needle came out about ... 2 rows into the pattern, and even if I could get the needle back in , the markers had gone "poof" so I couldn't tell where they went.  Tear it out and cast on again.

Third time, I reached into the bag I was keeping my active projects in, grabbed one to show off, and out came one of the active needles, about ... 5 rows into the pattern.  This time I cut off the yarn, because it was getting a bit worn, and I cast on again.

Then I went camping, and wanted to show a friend what I'd gotten done ... you see where this is going.  This time the needle stayed in the bag.

Something had to be done, the yarn is too fine to hold the needles in, or the steel was too slippery to stay in place.  I needed a holder of some kind.

Something like this, a tube to hold the needles secure and still allow the knitted fabric to hang so I could tell where I was in the project, or to show it off (which I probably shouldn't do given what's happened in the past.  (This one looks good to, but probably not as versatile.  A friend shows me a needle holder she'd made out of a cigar tube , and I determined to make something like the first link or the cigar holder.

So I got my hands on a cigar tube ... all of 5 inches long and about a half inch in diameter.  Also about as fragile as a politician's promise.   I needed something sturdier, and a bit larger.  To the hardware store and/or Home Depot, because that's where I pick up sewing notions, doesn't everyone?

Saturday, March 22, 2014

J. M. A. socks test knit (2 of quite a few)


My selected yarns
 This one's about checking for gauge.  I've gotten yarn, and dug through my stash and I think I've got enough different yarns to do this.  I also bought size 1 needles, and cast on for a swatch.   I didn't get it done as quickly I thought I would (next swatch, fewer stitches.)
yummy, with cashmere, but Oh, the colors
Clearance clown barf yarn.

I went for inexpensive yarns, the idea being that this is a test sock, and although I might wear it, how pretty it looks isn't a first consideration.  Of course, I also wear fuschia with blaze orange, so my taste is probably questionable.  The clown barf is very nice and soft, it's Loops & Threads, Luxury Sock Super Fine, and the color way is properly "Spring Fling" merino and cashmere.

From left to right, purples varigated, tan, clown barf, more purple varigated, and some brown I found after taking the "all yarn" shot
The Finished Swatch.
I had the purple first, and started with that, probably too much, but I am looking for how it handles as well as gauge.  I am looking for 36 stitches X 48 rows = 4 inches, or 9 stitches and 12 rows to the inch.

Sizing tomorrow/later, because the light where I'm trying to measure isn't great, and I've not a flashlight to use.

Edit to add:
purple 9 stitches 12 rows
tan 12 rows 9 stitches
clown barf 12 rows 9 stitches
brown  9 stitches 12 rows

and some asprin-esque for the resulting headache.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

J. M. A. socks test knit (1 of quite a few)

I am a member of Ravelry, and didn't quite realize it, but I volunteered to test knit a pattern written up by a fellow member of Ravelry.  After getting over the Socrates moment  (see "Real Genius"), and looking over the directions and reviewing my stash of tools and fiber I realized that I normally don't work as fine as the patterned called for, and I certainly don't think I have the colors called for, never mind working in light-fingering weight wool at almost 10 stitches per inch.

Figure 1, the swatch has begun
One trip to the local fabric big box store (actually, the second one, didn't like the selection or the prices at the first) netted me needles and a bag of mill ends in the appropriate weight, even if what I found was purple and gray variegated and the pattern calls for brown, red, and olive, and the original pattern looks like it either ran out of red and switched orange or changed dye batches halfway through the second sock.

Cast on 66 stitches and am starting to swatch,  More to come.  The picture makes the wool look much bluer than it is.  I suspect the red was washed out by the red background.  And the cat hair.  I am making decent project on the swatch, but purling at that scale makes my hands ache a bit.

ravelry pattern is here but might not be public facing.