As a way of learning everything possible about weaving, I’ve been joining lots of the Complex Weavers study groups. In fact, I currently belong to three: the Garment Study Group, the Fine Threads Study Group, and the Computer Aided Design Exchange study group. The first two are pretty self-explanatory, the third focuses on new ways to use computers in designing your weaving.
Well, the CAD Exchange just had its Feb 15 article exchange, and I was so excited on reading the first few articles that I immediately got up and wrote my contribution for August 15. I posted it to the CAD mailing list, and then thought that some of you might be interested in it as well.
So here’s my article on using Photoshop to simulate colors in weaving. It’s really more about simulating warps/wefts with gradual color changes, a la my Ocean Sunset shawl or Liquid Fire, but it might have some interesting applications to other structures/color changes. I haven’t really explored this further, but perhaps I should!
I should warn you that the article is about 3.5 MB, so it’s pretty big – but worth reading anyway, I hope! It’s mostly color photos, which accounts for the file size.
At this point I’ve written enough articles and snippets that I’m seriously considering creating a “Publications” section of my website – seems like it would make things a lot easier to find!



Itchiku Kubota
I recently received (from Amazon) an utterly fantastic book, Kimono as Art: The Landscapes of Itchiku Kubota. If you are a dyer, or a textile artist of any form, do not walk, RUN to Amazon and pick up a copy. It is inspirational.
Itchiku Kubota was a Japanese artist who used brush painting and various forms of resist dyeing on silk to create fabulously beautiful kimono. (This is roughly like saying Van Gogh was a guy who used a brush with oil paints on canvas.) I first became aware of his work when I was visiting a friend and happened to glance through a copy of Smithsonian, the Smithsonian Institute’s magazine. In it was an article about Kubota, and photos of the most beautiful textile creation I had ever seen. I took one look and said, “I have seen the face of God”.
Possibly a little over-dramatic, but I mean it: in that kimono, I saw the face of my Muse, and the kind of work I would spend the rest of my life striving to create. Kubota’s work, at first glance, is a gloriously beautiful dyed piece. But as you move closer up, you can see the incredible detail of his work: tiny shibori stitches, delicately brush-painted flowers, flowing shades of dye. What I love about his work is that it is complex and detailed- you gain more by seeing it closer and closer, and one piece has enough to keep you occupied for a long time.
A Google image search produces quite a few of his works, but the particular one that convinced me I’d seen the face of God is this one:
"Burning Sun" kimono by Itchiku Kubota
The photo doesn’t do it justice, though: it was the closeup that made me gasp. A better idea might be gotten by looking at this kimono:
another kimono by Itchiku Kubota
(click through for the larger version)
At any rate, Kubota for me signifies what I seek in my work: harmony of color, incredible detail, perfect workmanship, and a broad sweep of ambition: his Symphony of Light series was meant to be 80 kimonos, but he died after the completion of only 40. His son and his atelier continue his work today. (A single kimono is so intricate that it can easily take a year to complete.)
Kubota’s work also represents dedication. He spent nearly fifteen years researching and experimenting with dyes before producing his first kimono. He started his atelier at age 44, but it wasn’t until he was 60 that he had his first show, with a relatively simple version of the kimono you see above. He studied many different arts to produce his work. It is that singleminded dedication, that commitment to follow the Muse, that I strive for in my work. I will probably never achieve his mastery, but on my deathbed, I’ll still be trying.
The other thing that catches my eye about Kubota’s work is its level of detail. If I have a single criticism of American fiber artistry, it is that it tends to lack detail. It’s made for speed, in a land of bustling efficiency and instant gratification. I don’t see the level of focus needed to achieve mastery; that Olympian-athlete attitude, patient and eager both at once, that creates true masterworks. I wonder if my focus comes from my Asian heritage (which would be funny, since I don’t think of myself as particularly Asian). The book on Kubota reads,
My observation of Japanese crafts, such as origami and Japanese knitting, is that they have a level of intricacy and detail that is seldom found in American craft. I’m not saying that it’s universally true: the origami work of Robert Lang and John Montroll is precise and beautiful, and there are certainly American knitters who do intricate knitting, tapestry weavers that work in fine detail. But as a whole, American craft strikes me as larger-scale, lacking the detail and delicacy that I see in Asian art. It has its strengths in other areas, but it is Asian art that most inspires me. Kubota expresses the Muse with incredible power and delicacy, and it is his spirit and dedication that I aspire to in my work.