The Hawthorne Works

As Yvette asked my advice on beginning her Krokbragd project, and I’d just finished tying-in my next, I thought I’d share some thoughts and images as I proceed. Much of the following works for any rug.

First, the foundation of any piece is a sound, cleanly-wound warp.

Please do not warp rugs over paper. The result is almost always disappointing. Rug weaving is slow weaving, but time spent in preparation saves heartbreak later.

My preferences for warping rugs — or anything else for that matter — are as follows:

The simplest way in terms of equipment is to warp over sticks, in the classic Scandinavian manner. Unfortunately, this method takes a deal of practice, and can end in blistered hands if the weaver is winding the warp appropriately tight. The process described in Collingwood’s The Techniques of Rug Weaving pp 63-64 works well. Use the dowel described and get things very tight. (Before his death, Peter Collingwood released TRW and his Rug Weaving Techniques: Beyond the Basics to the public domain. They can be downloaded at no cost or purchased on CD-ROM from www.handweaving.net) Thank you, Peter. Sleep well.

Second, one can warp sectionally. Unfortunately, most sectional tension boxes commercially available are not up to the task of making a good rug warp. The beam ends up sloppy and soft. I was fortunate to buy a loom and a large box of assorted items (including SAMPLES) from a former intern at Mr. Collingwood’s Nayland, UK shop. In the box was a copy of the tension box described in TRW, pp 64-65. A creative genius, Mr. Collingwood’s “long suit” was certainly not woodworking. I made a more finely-crafted version. The system was a significant improvement over those I’d used previously.  Before I had the chance to wind many warps, a visiting weaver purchased the device.

My current box is pictured. I adapted a LeClerc (Plessisville, QC, Canada, http://www.leclerclooms.com/ Caring loom makers and an excellent fiber supplier) tension box from “inventory” with a little plate steel, some turned wood, a spring, and a cylinder from a commercial spindle sander. It’s simpler to adjust than Mr. Collingwood’s design and took an hour or two in the shop. More on this later.

My ultimate solution remains the warp extender, previously described here. I still sweat winding a warp (old habits die hard), but a weaver could throw the warp on the beam with this system and weave a good rug, as long as the tie-in is evenly tensioned.

. . .

Tie-in:

Don’t be impatient with your tie-in. I tie in one-inch warp groups. A larger group makes a big knot. A big knot is likely to slip, and makes a bulge coming around the cloth beam. As one can see from the following, my tie-in stick is stout. After suffering with the flexible steel rods used in many looms, I made the wooden sticks shown. I’m considering “kicking it up a notch” and using 1″ x 1/4″ cold-rolled steel.

I begin the tie-in at the center with five one-inch groups. I tie four one-inch groups on both edges, and work from the edges and center alternately in rotation. I’ve explained this as “torqueing the head-bolts on a V-8.” Surprisingly, most of my students (practically all female, and most over 50) “get it” when I express it this way. Either we Vermonters are a different breed, or the last generation was a heckova lot tougher than the coming one. Come to think of it, most of my students probably “wrenched” on a V-8 now and again.

This method leads to a straighter fell. If a tie-in begins at the center and proceeds outward, or the obverse, the stick will bow. So will the fell.

What my tie looks like. Be patient and care.

You’ve all had this experience with the meager, floppy sticks on small looms, I suspect. Beef ‘em up. Too many tools are designed by accountants.

I make a “semi-floating” selvage on many of my rugs. I’ve already voiced my objections to the “floater” (more later), but most of my pieces require manipulation at the edges. I found if the selvages were wound normally, they rapidly became abraded and slack. Sloppy. Bumpy. Uggh.

My technique is to thread the first and last end normally in the heddles, tighter in the reed, and weight from the back of the loom. While my working sett currently is 16 epi quadrupled in the heddles, giving 4 working epi, my selvages are threaded at eight epi with six ends. This makes a firm edge. I use two weights from my former career as a machine knitter on each selvage. Together, they weigh 2.25 lbs. Almost the same result can be had without buying a knitting machine by filling a quart milk container with water and using it for weight. As the Brits say, “A pint’s a pound the world around.” Except the British Imperial pint is twenty ounces, which leaves most folk speechless in wonder. Or something else.

Weighted selvage from the back.

Sidebar: If any of my readers are machine knitters, I have a big stash of esoteric machines and parts. Significant discounts to the trade. Since sitting at my first loom, I lost the heart for knitting.

New installment soon. I need to think of how to weave and take photographs at the same time.

Best,

Tim

I’ve spent time teaching various techniques to weavers. (And am incidentally available for seminars, Bar or Bat Mizvahs, Bachelorette Parties, or stand-up comedy clubs.)

One heartbreaking scenario that has dogged me from time to time is that of a new weaver who wants to make a “groundbreaking” first piece. The usual stage-setting is this: the weaver has purchased a shiny new loom, with shuttles, books, and gee-gaws of all description. He or she has thousands invested. As our society looks for “return on investment,” the weaver wants to make a replica of some very expensive piece he or she has seen, but couldn’t afford.

Usually, the piece is in demanding, expensive material. Most times, it is complex in execution.

When you got your driver’s license, you (I hope) didn’t hop into a brand-new Ferarri and take off to the Grand Prix. You found an old Chevy and drove it cautiously until you were assured you wouldn’t crash and burn.

Don’t crash and burn on your loom. Find some pleasant, reasonably-priced materials that are easy to work with. Buy plenty of extra. Learn to weave simple pieces well. The value of craftsmanship in weaving — the labor — usually far outweighs the materials. Beginning, you’ll make frequent “discoveries” (the artist’s word for mistakes). As you progress, your mistakes will become more grandiose. Thankfully, your ability to fix these ever-larger and more daring mistakes (making “recoveries”) will expand along with your growing recklessness.

The value of our craft is with the maker. I feel a well-made, sweet, simple object will always have greater worth than a costly one that dares and fails.

Tim

Rug for Midcentury Chair Showing Ply Blending

In a fantasy world, a rug weaver could wave his or her hand and come up with any color needed for a design. With a declining number of woollen mills, both our selection of rug wools and available colors are shrinking. One solution, costly in terms of labor, is to dye one’s own colors. I tried this, and found that a Dyer’s life is not for me. I know artists who achieve spectacular results this way. Visit: http://www.travelingtiger.com/blog and be amazed. Tien is becoming a luminary in weaving and dying. Your humble narrator managed to make a horrible mess of the latter. My kitchen will never be the same.

Weaving knotted pile or tapestry allows pin-point color control with the right selection of wools, but I don’t think I’d live long enough to finish a piece in either method. I am further constrained by the need to sell my work. Both tapestry and pile have long been the Rolls-Royces of the rug world — magnificent, but not for a modest pocketbook.

Ply-blending, then. My solution had to make more of less. My weft consists of multiple strands of wool wrapped together on a shuttle. I work with New Zealand wool. (Why? Well, they have A LOT of sheep in New Zealand. The Enn-Zed product is simpler to obtain than, say, Bahamas wool.) Typically, I work with either four strands of 2/65’s (1040 ypp), which gives a working weft of 260 ypp. or two strands of 3/36 (576 ypp), weaving at 288 ypp. While there is a small difference in the weight of the wefts, they weave interchangably in the rug. One can also wrap one strand of 3/36 and two of 2/65 — I’ll leave the math to the student. To wrap I shuttle, I stand various cones on the floor, establish tension on the plies with my thumb and wind a counted number of turns onto the shuttle.

The simplest form of blending is seen in the dark border of a recent commission, Rug for a Midcentury Chair, woven in 4s twill on opposites. The border was woven with alternate picks of 3/36’s, the first shuttle carrying one strand of charcoal gray and one of black. The second shuttle carried two strands of charcoal. The interplay between the two related tones defines a twill line, but in a much softer way than using solid colors. I think the overall effect is more active and interesting than a solid block. In other solid areas, a single strand of a lighter or darker color can add sparkle and life to an area.

The body of the rug was woven by maintaining the charcoal/gray blend on the first shuttle, and weaving differing sequences of 4 plies on the second. The first sequence had 4 strands of a cream, the second 3 of cream and one tan, the third two cream, two tan, and so on. As I counted my turns onto the shuttle and did some sampling initially, I found that 60 turns, or exactly two ounces on the second shuttle would weave almost exactly two inches. This helped greatly in designing the piece. I like the soft gradation between tones, which is more interesting than the hard junction of stripes of solid tones.

An unexpected result of ply-blending is that the rug appears to change colors as one walks around it. In this case, the effect has much to do with the dark diagonal of the twill, but is subtly apparent on pieces with no twill line.

I suspect there is some creative work to be done by a weaver with an appropriate spinning wheel combining blending with s or z-twist plying. The Shakers achieved beautiful effects with this in woollen rags.

A woodrose in Krokbragd in three blended tones. Photo by Mary Rios

The Cheiftains Robe -- The Rug that began my Affair With Krokbragd

It’s no secret that Krokbragd is one of my favorite rug techniques. It allows enormous freedom of design, is simple to treadle and very satisfying to weave. Typically, it’s written as a pointed draft on three shafts, shown here:

This drawdown is for a rising shed, and should be corrected for sinking shed looms. (Tie the empty spaces.)

I never weave Krokbragd as a point draw. As any pattern which repeats on x ends can be written as a straight draft on x ends — four in this case — I find it advantageous to thread as shown here::

This allows weaving of four-shaft twills simply by altering the tie-up. It also has large advantages for the weaver on a jack loom. In the point draw, half of the ends are on shaft 2, which usually will be the first to float. The straight draw distributes these ends over shafts two and four, allowing higher tensions and a better shed. Floating is a problem with either threading on jack looms, as the weaver will see that half to two-thirds of the ends are raised at any time. A typical solution would be to weave the textile “face-down,” allowing more sunk ends. This approach does not work with Krokbragd, as the two faces are completely different. It is nearly impossible to determine the pattern on the front from the back.

A solution for the jack-loom weaver with eight or more shafts presents itself here:

In extending the original three-shaft point draft to eight shafts straight-draw, the weaver can place far fewer ends on each shaft, allowing higher tensions. It can be seen that the eight shaft tie-up is simply the four-shaft tie stacked vertically. Thus, the weave can be extended as far as necessary in increments of four shafts.

On a countermarche loom, there is no particular advantage in extending the threading beyond four shafts. However, it is good to know that Krokbragd can be woven on a multi-shaft straight draw simply by changing the tie-up. This can give the weaver many more options.

It should be noted that this trick works with any weave structure that requires more tension than a jack loom is capable of providing on the minimum set of shafts. It also allows interleaving more complex weave structures with simpler ones. It is only limited by the creativity of the weaver and her ability to explore and sample.

As Krokbragd is unbalanced, weaving on a counterbalance loom requires some special, but relatively simple adjustments. Once these are accomplished, a counterbalance loom has all the advantages of a countermarche with a far simpler tie-up. These adjustments can be found in Peter Collingwood’s Rug Weaving Techniques: Beyond the Basics, which is unfortunately out of print and very expensive to purchase. A patient weaver can find the complete book in Adobe .pdf at both www.handweaving.net and the University of Arizona’s extensive on-line weaving library. A serious counterbalance weaver will also benefit from the many creative solutions found in John Tovey’s The Technique of Weaving. Long out of print, Tovey’s book can often be purchased for under ten dollars through www.Amazon.com or where I bought my copy, www.alibris.com.

Warp long - weave long.

Tim

If you’ve looked at the 40 pounds of steel photo below and have an eye for Things Cranbrook, you’ll notice that the Loom of Doom doesn’t have Cranbrook shafts. The four shafts mounted (and four more hanging on the shop’s wall) came from a pair of 70+ year old LeClerc looms I bought in Quebec. I think I paid too much for the Miras, but they had many usable parts. I’ve rarely seen a loom completely “used up” through weaving, but them Kay-beckers were serious, and the looms had made thousands of yards of fabric for several generations.

Sidebar: if you want a sweet fabric loom and are willing to work through the few limitations and many advantages the counterbalance system offers, consider one. (They are absolutely the fastest thing on four shafts, for one.) I’ve had more fun on my elegant Glimakra Ideal CB’s and LeClerc’s Mira and Fanny than I can tell. Because most American-pattern looms use the jack system, many US weavers look to jacks for their first loom purchase. Jacks have some real limitations. There’s often a CB out there somewhere for short money that may begin a weaving career — or offer real pleasure to the hardened veteran.

As usual, I digress. A quick check with my trusty Starrett rule (L. S. Starrett, Athol, Mass, the last bastion of American Precision and a Union Shop {highly skilled, well-paid machinists making a living wage} found at http://www.starrett.com/) told me that the 45″ Mira shafts would just clear the Cranbrook frames. A little braining told me that I could replace the bottom of the LeClerc shafts with a piece of American Ash appropriately drilled and have a lamm that didn’t need to pivot. No lamm binding issues. If I were weaving beyond eight shafts, my solution would be unworkable. On two to eight, it’s slick.

For much of my work, I prefer Texsolv heddles. They are quiet, light, and most importantly can be marked with felt pens to eliminate threading mistakes. The LeClerc shafts I salvaged came with old and excellently-made inserted-eye steel heddles. As my interpretation of PC’s shaft-switching device will come off the workbench soon, I think that I will stick with the inserts. Noise on the Loom of Doom isn’t an important issue. The major problem is that the beat keeps pushing me onto the hot radiator and making a stripe on my butt.

Ow.

Tim

40 pounds of steel and a reed that will take it

Those of us who weave weft-faced rugs usually are stout of thigh and bicep. (I’ve also been accused of being weak of mind, but we’ll let that pass.)

The beater on my rug loom has ten lineal feet of half by three inch steel plate bolted to it to give it “oomph.” Peter Collingwood recommended one pound of weight per weaving inch in his Rug Weaving Techniques: Beyond the Basics, and I am just at that mass at my usual 40″ sley. This does a fine job of compacting weft. Unfortunately, this amount of weight will rapidly turn a normal, sweet fabric reed into a twisted collection of wires. It’s a sickening sight to see a hundred-plus dollar reed wrench itself apart. As I also weave normal textiles from time to time, I was forced to keep two sets on hand: one for fabrics and the other for (ahem) combat weaving.

About three years ago, I made contact with the Carolina Loom Reed Company. CLR manufacture reeds for power looms with soldered metal spines and very strong, sturdy dents in stainless steel. Their product is comparable in price to those available through other sources. To top that, the folks I’ve spoken to (Ken and Steve) have never failed to be gracious and exceptionally service-oriented. Pound away as I may, I haven’t been able to distort a Carolina Reed. Perhaps this means I should add more weight to my beater. . .

Carolina Loom Reed

Many of the materials used for rug warp are stiff, highly-twisted, and don’t hold a knot particularly well. After a frustrating session weaving a linen warp with knots that seem to pop every other pick, I discovered the following answer:

There is a latex solution (which means stay away if you have allergies) used for commercial rug seaming sold under the brand Barrier Bond. It can be purchased from many carpet warehouses. A very small dab of it seals a warp knot so it will hold up under heavy beating. The solution is flexible enough so it does not create a stiff spot in the rug. It also works well to secure fringe knots.

Tim

View From The Office

If you’ve visited my website, you’ll know I repair and modify weaving looms, sell and support Glimakra looms, and weave rugs. I’m often asked what type of loom I recommend for rug weaving. I have seven looms in house, and have made rugs on almost all of them, with the exception of my 16s AVL production dobby. (Some things are clearly a bad idea!) A strongly-made countermarche or counterbalance loom with an overhead beater generally seems the best choice.

Some time ago,  I bought a 45″ Bexell-made Cranbrook countermarche loom in poor condition. Parts were missing and damaged, and it was obvious the loom had been “rid hard and put away wet.” My initial inclination was to use the machine for parts. Life works in strange ways, however. The gorgeous 60″ Cranbrook that was to be my “new” rug loom left “down south” for a new career with a rep weaver. The 45″ rolled into the shop.

Things weren’t as grim as first appeared. To the credit of the Bexell Bridge, Truss, and Iron Works, their design proved exceptionally durable. Their craftsmanship was careful. My loom’s joints were sound after over 35 years of hard service and neglect.

A monograph by the late Peter Collingwood (to whom all weavers owe a debt) published by Salt Lake City Guild convinced me that I should construct a warp extender. While Mr. Collingwood may be best known for his shaft-switching device, the thrust of his monograph to the SLC guild was that the warp extender contributed more to the quality of a finished piece than any of his other ideas.

Plate steel, new wood, parts from a table saw and a tractor, as well as bits cannibalized from other looms found their way onto the LoD. I adapted various features from other looms I’d used and liked.

James Krenov is one of the luminaries in furniture making of this or any century. In his books — and in also our conversations in his simple living living room and small shop in California – Jim pressed me and thousands of others to personalize our work, and to make the tools we use “our own.”

I’m happy to say I’ve accomplished my intention. I now work on a salvaged loom that functions as well as anything I’ve sat at. It’s neither shiny nor pretty. The scars of a working life are written on it — and the weaver. For all that, it’s my own.

I’ve been asked why I haven’t scrubbed the flash rust off some of the steel or applied varnish to the wood. The answer is simple: the LoD is a work in progress, a prototype if you will. I find it far more difficult to get the gumption to modify something perfectly polished and shiny. When I think the design is as good as can be, perhaps I will make it beautiful. Likely I’ll be too busy weaving.

Thanks for reading.

Tim