Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Colours, and more colours

I have been knitting lately; though perhaps not as much or as productively as I would wish. One of my knitting hopes for 2014 was to do more colour-work, and classes with Mary Jane Mucklestone on my transatlantic knitting cruise added both to my enthusiasm and my technique in approaching fair isle knitting. So, I've been knitting hats:

Four hats

Hats are a perfect project for practicing colour-work. They can be knitted in the round, which is almost compulsory for colour-work. Then, they're just the right size to see if a fair isle pattern works well, but they're not so big that it's a major disaster if the colours or the motif mix don't work too well. I'd bought some 'sticky' fingering weight yarns in a mixture of colours during my visit to the USA - some Harrisville Designs Shetland and some Elemental Affects Shetland Fingering, so I was able to begin by playing around with possible colour combinations. In her classes Mary Jane had given excellent advice on combining and balancing light and dark colours in fair isle knitting, but I found the advice unexpectedly difficult to implement. One of the things I've always taken for granted in my knitting is a capacity to choose and combine colours, so I was unprepared for the amount of experimentation needed to find satisfactory combinations. One thing I think I learned at this stage is that you can never have too many different coloured yarns for fair isle knitting as quite minimal variations in hue can make a significant difference.

I began with the Shwook hat - a pattern from the admired Shetland knitter, Hazel Tindall.

Schwook hat on ACSchwook hat close-up

The colours for this hat worked well, but on reflection I thought I had played a bit too safe, and so began another hat. This time I used the basic pattern for the smallest size of the Shwook hat but decorated it with two of the motifs from Mary Jane Mucklestone's '200 Fair Isle Motifs: A Knitter's Directory'. I used one of my favourite colour combinations - yellow and blue. My fair isle pattern designing skills are not yet sufficiently developed to invent a pattern for the crown of the hat, so I've repeated Hazel Tindall's design.

Yellow and blue hat on AMYellow and blue hay top

I tried Kyukker, another of Hazel Tindall's hat patterns because I liked its busyness, and was also attracted by the way that a deceptively floral motif had been devised from the squared-off grid that's the starting point for all fair isle. This time the colours didn't work quite so well as the yellow is too bright for the more subtle mauve and blues of most of the hat. I hope I'm learning a bit more about colour combining with each attempt.

Kyukker hat 3Kyukker hat 2

By this stage I was feeling limited by the limited colour palette of my initial yarn purchases and so ordered more yarn, including the lovely rosey colour that was the basis for my next hat. This time I used the idea of Brooklyn Tweed's Turn a Square hat, adapted the pattern for fingering weight yarn and then combined some more of the traditional fair isle motifs from Mary Jane's wonderful book.

Rosey hat on AMRosey hat square top

I think I had some vague memory of a Kaffe Fasset hat that combined stripes and florals (or maybe I've invented that recollection) and so striped the crown after completing the fair isle body of the hat. I'm not sure the combination has quite worked, but I think there is a good idea in there somewhere.

Now my problem is what to do with all these hats. My grand-daughter, whom I persuaded to model a couple of them (reluctantly) says they're 'too prickly'. Hmmm. I've offered them to my daughter as last-minute gifts, but she's said, most reasonably, that you can't give someone a warm hat in the heat of a Sydney summer. Maybe I'll just put them away till cooler weather comes and then think again.

Four hats vertical

Friday, December 19, 2014

Bye-bye Brisbane

Brisbane view

I've just returned from what will probably be my last visit to Brisbane for some time. My daughter and grand-daughter, who have been in Brisbane for nearly seven years, are returning to Sydney, so I'll have no reason for visiting as regularly as I have over those seven years. There are things I've grown to like about Brisbane. Particularly when I've visited in winter, the old tourism slogan of 'beautiful one day, perfect the next' has seemed to describe the bright blue skies, the pollution-free air, the meandering river and the almost tropical landscape with its profusion of flowering trees and bushes. Summer, of course, is a different matter with its heat and humidity. Urgh!

There are two things I'll particularly miss about Brisbane. One is the Tangled Yarns store with its interesting range of yarns, its bright, welcoming space, and its colourful displays. I wrote about my admiration for this store earlier this year. But even if I were continuing to visit Brisbane, this pleasure would no longer be available because the store is, sadly, closing. It will be greatly missed.

I'm also an avid fan of the gallery complex at Brisbane's South Bank so I took a break from helping with house packing up to visit the latest exhibition at the wonderful Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA) - 'Future Beauty: 30 Years of Japanese Fashion'.

QAG entrance

Visitors are not permitted to photograph the items in this exhibition, but the advertisement on the Gallery site gives an impression of the more outrageous designs. What it doesn't really show, however, are the items I found most inspirational; the folded, sculptural, deceptively simple shapes that so revolutionised fashion in the 70s and 80s. There has been some rather critical discussion recently of the phenomenon of displaying 'fashion' in art galleries. But it's a move that has been undeniably popular and has opened galleries to a wider range of people. In the case of this particular exhibition I think it's also not just about what is 'fashionable' but about notions of the body and how it is presented and perceived. It explores how two-dimensional designs can be translated to the unpredictably three dimensional and mobile human form.

I found this special exhibition both thought-provoking and beautiful, but I was equally engaged by a number of the Gallery's own exhibits as I meandered through the lovely (cool) spaces of the Queensland Art Gallery on my way back to the bus stop. There is a shimmering colonnade that on closer inspection is composed of VHS tape.

QAG Kempinas columns

The information on the work noted that the Lithuanian artist, Zilvinas Kempinas 'is interested in the way that magnetic videotape holds images of the past, but these will soon no longer be viewable. Rather than its promise of progress, technology often reveals instead dead-ends and monumental failures'. As someone who constantly worries about what will happen in the future to the images and other documentation I now have stored on today's technology, this was a poignant reminder of the probably inevitable transience of the records of our lives.

The walls of the main entrance space of the Gallery are currently elegantly hung with dance masks and zugub (dance machines) from the Torres Strait Islands:

QAG George Nona
QAG Patrick Thaiday Zugub

One of the things I've admired across my many visits to the GOMA and QAG is their commitment to exhibiting art from the Torres Strait Islands, and the Pacific more generally. Sydney is a very multicultural city and when here I'm conscious, in many different ways, of our location in Asia. But Brisbane reminds me much more immediately of our Pacific connection. Maybe it's the climate, and the visibility of Pacific Islanders within the community, but for me these relationships have been reinforced by the galleries and their collections.

And finally, just before I exited the Gallery, I was distracted by the ceramic collection and its current display of works by Australian potter Gwyn Hanssen Pigott.

QAG pots
Gwyn Hanssen Pigott

I just stand in front of these works and sigh with pleasure. They are perfection. Each of the pots is perfect in itself, but placed together each of the shapes increases the perfection of the others. They remind me of Alberto Morandi's paintings, which also make me sigh with pleasure.

It's not often that you have the opportunity to get to know another city reasonably well through informal visits over some years, when there's no pressure to see as much as possible in limited time, but I've had this opportunity with Brisbane. But for now, bye-bye Brisbane.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Summer knitting?

Oooof! Yesterday we had 33 degree heat (94 fahrenheit) and 93% humidity - and in the afternoon a thunder storm and downpour of rain where flooded streets were unable to cope with the sudden deluge. Today's predicted to be more of the same. February weather in December. And this comes after the hottest Sydney November on record. Climate change, anybody? So it seems a bit perverse to be blogging about a winter shawl that I've finally managed to block. But knitters will not be surprised by this unseasonable behavior; we know knitting's not a seasonal activity.

Copenhagen scarf

This is such a great pattern. It's Ashburn by designer Melanie Berg and combines some of my habitually loved elements - garter stitch and stripes - with blocks of colour, some unexpected textured stitching, and a single picot edge.

Copenhagen scarf picot edge

I notice from Ravelry that many of the knitters who've completed Ashburn have chosen to do so in bright colours, and it looks wonderful done this way. But I had yarn where the colours melded into one another, and I think it also looks good in this more tonal variation.

Copenhagen scarf 2

I wanted continue my fascination with 'sticky' yarns that are so much a part of knitting in Scandinavia and so I used the Geilsk Yarn that I'd acquired in Copenhagen. Two of the skeins were a generous gift from designer Bente Geil who uses New Zealand wool processed in Denmark for her own range of yarns. The shawl has softened with soaking and blocked beautifully.

At the moment I can imagine few things worse than wearing a woolly shawl. It will need to be carefully stored away for quite a few months. But I know I'll enjoy it next winter....or maybe I could plan some northern hemisphere travel to escape this weather?

Monday, November 3, 2014

To the new world

This has been a long-delayed post. It's now more than a month - indeed, nearer two months - since I returned from my transatlantic knitting cruise, but I feel I need to finish the account of the places I visited.

Canada St Anthony's harbour

I now have quite a different mental image of the north Atlantic after my cruise from Copenhagen to New York. Before this trip I think I imagined this area as a vast space of nothingness, but I now see it as a series of stepping stones that link Europe and North America. There was no more than a day at sea between any of our destinations, so that when we finally reached St Anthony in Newfoundland it seemed just another of the icy northern lands where stoic people had made accommodations to live in challenging environments. I hope the locals aren't insulted by my saying that the town itself is rather charmless, though from my brief visit it's clear that the hills and forests that surround the town offer wonderful opportunities for walking.

This is what really struck me about St Anthony -

Canada St Anthony's Grenfell Centre

I grew up in a small town in rural Australia called Grenfell, which coincidentally has almost the same small population, around 2500, as St Anthony Newfoundland and Labrador. However, Dr Wilfrid Grenfell, who features so largely in the history and current well-being of Newfoundland, is an altogether more admirable figure than the nineteenth century Gold Commissioner after whom my home town is named. Located in the Grenfell Centre in St Anthony is a small but very well-curated museum that focuses upon Wilfrid Grenfell who brought medical services to much of poverty-stricken Newfoundland and Labrador in the early twentieth century. As well as recounting Grenfell's achievements, the museum graphically depicts the deprivation and hardship undergone by the residents of the maritime provinces at that time. The Centre also has an excellent tourist shop that includes a range of handcrafted items, including examples of hooked rugs for which the area is well-known. I don't need another hobby, but if I did I think rug-hooking might be near the top of my list.

Canada St Anthony's hooked rug

I fell in love with St John's, which was the second of our stops in Canada. St John's, the capital of the province of Newfoundland and Labrador, climbs the hill behind its harbour so that you have a wonderful panoramic view of the city as you arrive by sea:

Canada St John's view from Harbour

Even from a distance you can see the colourful houses that line the streets. This is yet another town - like Reykjavik, like Thorshavn, like the tiny towns of Greenland, where people seem to compensate for the drabness of their long winter landscapes by the riotous colours of their houses. I spent ages wandering up and down the steep streets, marveling at the ways people had individualised their houses with colour:

Canada St John's coloured housesCanada terraces St John'sCanada St John's coloured terraces

St John's had a number of shops selling locally made handcrafts of wonderful quality. There were more examples of the hooked rugs that combine fine craft with charmingly naive designs, and lots and lots of handknitting - jumpers, hats, scarves, mittens in a riot of cables and colourwork designs. Despite all the temptations I bought only some patchworked coasters. I think I was spoilt for choice and too distracted by the architecture of the hilly streets. I even happened upon a film crew packing up for lunch after filming an episode of Republic of Doyle, a Canadian tv series set in St John's that I'd enjoyed watching half a world away.

Our visit to Halifax in Nova Scotia was much more focused upon yarn and knitting. Much to my surprise, I found I have no photographs of the city itself, though I have many of our yarny activities. We had the great privilege of visiting Lucy Neatby of Tradewind Knitwear Designs in her home, which also serves as her studio. With her brightly multi-coloured hair and clothes, Lucy is all-of-a-piece with the riotously coloured knitting she designs. She's a designer who follows her passions, and at present her passion is for double knitting. She's exploring the possibilities of this technique in all kinds of ways, but the most interesting (for me) are the floral mandala-like pieces that can serve as pot-holders, table mats, even blankets if the knitter is sufficiently enthusiastic and skilled.

Canada Lucy Neatby double knitting handsCanada Lucy Neatby double knitting 1Canada Lucy Neatby double knitting 2Canada Lucy Neatly double knitting 3

We also visited the dyeing studios for Fleece Artist and Handmaiden yarns. Watching the dyers was mesmerising. It requires a combination of skill, experience and intuition to get the colours 'just so'. While there are colours that are repeated again and again because of their popularity, we were told that each of the dyers inevitably has favourite combinations and that this capacity to experiment brings continued freshness and innovation to the range of yarns that are produced.

Canada Halifax Fleece Artist drying yarn

As with other places we visited on the cruise I was left wanting to see more of the maritime regions of Canada with their distinctive history and traditions, and their focus on crafts and fibre.

Canada Halifax lighthouse

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Celebrating seventy

I spent considerable time and energy some months ago devising ways of running away from marking my seventieth birthday this year. It's not that I mind getting older - except for the physical aspects of aging, which I resent, I rather like the awareness of history and the diversity of life experiences that come with age. I just didn't want a big fuss about my birthday. The unexpected outcome has been a number of small fusses over some months - a very prolonged birthday celebration that's been very enjoyable. I've had my (birthday) cake, and eaten it too.

Last week I had lunch with some knitting friends after our knitting guild meeting and they absolutely surprised me with the gift of a blanket to which twelve friends had each contributed a knitted strip. Knowing from past experience their need for communication on such projects I can't believe I didn't have an inkling that this project was under way. It was a wonderful surprise.

Chevron blanket

It's made up of chevron stripes in shades of grey with mustard accents. It's a perfect match for my sofa and cushions:

Chevron Blanket with cushions

Grey! stripes! garter stitch! Loft yarn! These are a few of my favourite things...

Chevron blanket folded

My knitting friends clearly know my tastes.

Thanks Ailsa, Alison, Donna, Fee, Jane, Jody, Kris, Kylie, Margaret, Margarita, Sue and Zena. The gift, and the thoughts and work that created it, are greatly appreciated.

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Days of miracles and wonders (to quote Paul Simon)

I hadn’t expected Greenland to be so wonderful. I think I had very few expectations of Greenland; it’s a part of the world I’d rarely thought about. We spent a day cruising through Prince Christian Sound and some of its tributaries.

Greenland Prince Christian Sound

The miracle was the weather – clear, cold, and even some sun. We were told this happens rarely, even during the few summer months in which the Sound is navigable. The wonders just kept coming, as the large ship maneuvered through the Sound with cliffs rising steeply on either side. There were waterfalls around every corner,

Greenland Prince Christian Sound waterfall

several glaciers that tumbled down to the water’s edge

Greenland Prince Christian Sound glacier

and glimmering, bright icebergs.

Greenland Prince Christian Sound iceberg

Greenland has a small population, Fewer than 60,000 live in small towns and villages around the coastline and on islands as the interior isn't habitable. While cruising through the Sound our enormous cruise ship anchored off the tiny settlement of Aappilattoq (population around 130) so that the ship's tender could deliver some supplies of fresh food and pizza to its residents. For much of the year the town is reachable only by helicopter. You can just see the colourful houses of Aappilattoq at the bottom of the picture below:

Greenland Prince Christian Sound Aappilattoq

On each of the two days following our voyage through the Sound we anchored at towns on the southern tip of Greenland. In Nanortalik our cruise passengers more than doubled the local population of around 1500. There was time to stroll and linger on the seats scattered along the local streets and admire the landscape dotted with colourful small houses, and to wonder about people's lives in such a small and isolated community.

Greenland - Nanortallik
Greenland Nanortalik blue house
Greenland - Nanortallik houses

For a small fee (we scrambled to find our leftover Danish kroner) we were admitted to the community hall where the Nanortalik locals had organised coffee and cake as well as a performance by the local choir. The small choir ranged in age from members in their thirties to those in their eighties and the songs and their harmonies were disconcertingly like those of the Tongan church near me in Sydney. I suspect this similarity has more to do with the Nanortalik choir being from the local church than it does with any traditional relationship between Greenland and Tongan music! I particularly liked the two organising women in the choir who had gone to the effort of dressing in local costumes:

Greenland - Nanortallik choir

I imagine someone, somewhere, must have written a thesis, or at least an essay, on the very eclectic elements of this national costume. Some bits seem modern; others quite traditional. Maybe these combinations are just what the Greenlanders like to wear. I didn't notice what the turtleneck collars were made from (I was too overwhelmed by all the other components) but they sit above an elaborate beadwork yoke-like cape that's worn on top of a brightly coloured satin shirt with beadwork cuffs. Below the top is a patterned fabric cummerbund and then seal fur shorts with contrasting leather, fur and leather applique stripes at the front. The shorts are worn over trousers that seem to have several components including bright floral inserts and crocheted panels. The trousers are tucked into sealskin boots that also have intricate leather applique patterns. I found these costumes of many elements fascinating.

Greenland Nanortalik beaded yokeGreenland Nanortalik bootsGreenland Nanortalik leather shortsGreenland Nanortalik leather applique

In comparison with Nanortalik, Qaqortoq, which was our final stop in Greenland, seemed bustling. Its population is around 3,000 and there's a harbour with fishing boats and a fish processing plant (and an iceberg)

Greenland Qaqortoq Harbour

and a supermarket and a modern high school. There are even blocks of apartments where the distinctive compact architectural style and colourful siding of small houses has been carried over to the larger buildings:

Greenland Qaqortoq apartments

Qaqortoq was still charming: it's small enough to walk from place to place and admire some of the older buildings, such as the early twentieth century church, that have been preserved:

Greenland Qaqortoq church

But the greatest pleasure in our visit to Qaqortoq was to see the icebergs that lingered so close to the town:

Greenland - Qaqortoq iceberg

There were no yarn stores in the towns we visited in Greenland, so one would imagine there were no yarn temptations. However, there was a large tourist store at the harbour that was selling moskus garn - otherwise known as quiviut or yarn from musk oxen. This was another of those yarn transactions where if you think too much about the yarn air miles you hesitate to buy; the yarn was harvested from musk oxen in Greenland, processed in Denmark, then flown back to Greenland for the tourists to purchase. I did hesitate, but I did buy a skein.

Greenland quiviut

I was particularly grateful for this glimpse of a country I imagine I will never have the opportunity to visit again. Days of miracles and wonders, indeed.

Greenland Nanortalik children