Some of my living willow experiments at Kew Gardens 2002 |
When I embarked on doctoral
research at the Royal College of Art in London
1999 I had no idea really what research was
about. I knew at some base level that it involved ‘finding out things’ but how
that was to be achieved was a complete mystery to me. I just assumed it
involved reading books and asking questions and then compiling it all
into something meaningful. Four years later, thanks to the support provided by the College, I had a far better idea of what it was. One of the things that I learned is that academic research is pretty similar to the research one does as an artist and can be equally as exciting.
You have to start somewhere and that starting point is often
just a question that you ask yourself. In my studio, it is often ‘what can I do with this material?
But you quickly discover that in order
to answer this question you have to re phrase it a million times. This is
because the first question you came up with doesn’t get you the information you
think you want, or need, and the information it has provided isn’t as interesting
as maybe you hoped it would be. So my question to myself in the studio might then
change to ‘what can I do with this material if
I combine it with this technique?’ and then ‘what can I do if I combine this
material with another material
and this technique? It is not always quite as clear-cut
as this but I hope you get the idea.
Current studio research - 'how can I join ceramics and wire'? |
I eventually found some
answers to my questions, wrote them down
in the right order and completed my doctorate in 2003. It was about willow
product design and manufacture and if you are interested it is
available to download from the British Library.
It is possible, however, that research may be
addictive because I have now started again, this time into the Shetland basket
making tradition. It seemed to me that there might be more to it than the
scarce amount of printed information suggests. I don’t necessarily mean more in
terms of variety of techniques and raw materials,
but more in terms of how particular forms developed and how because of the location,
ecology and inhabitants of the place it became very individual
and particular to the islands.
The first time I went to the old Shetland
Museum, (since 2007 there has been
a lovely, shiny new one) I saw a black and white photo of a woman with a back
basket. The title was ‘Woman with Willow Kishie’. The
photo was very clear and it was immediately obvious to me that the kishie was not
willow at all, it was rattan. My immediate
assumption was that whoever had written the label didn’t know the difference
between the two materials and had, out of
ignorance, made a mistake!
Willow Kishie |
But, in fact, the label on the photo was not a mistake. This
particular basket was, and always has been,
known locally as a ‘willow kishie’ even though
it was never made out of willow. You could say that the first person to call
it such made a mistake but did they? It seems possible that they just used a word that would distinguish this kishie from a straw kishie and they used the
word willow because they may have heard it used for baskets that
aren’t made of indigenous materials. Although some varieties of Salix
grow in Shetland, there is scarce evidence that it was ever used for basket
making and they are called 'widdies'. If the sheep couldn’t get at them (they love chewing the
bark off) 'widdies' were used to dye wool. As a consequence the word ‘willow’ in Shetland dialect has
come to mean a material for basket making that
doesn’t grow there rather than a member of the Salix
family.
I cannot speak Shetland dialect,
I only know a few words and phrases. So it was very nice to have Barbara Ridland, a local textile artist
come to the Shetland Museum
stores with me to look at some of the baskets in the collection back in March. The
first stage of this particular bit of research was for me to look at the
collection database and conduct a search using all
the words that I thought might bring up the objects that I would like to see. It is possible that I missed out some things by not being
thorough enough in this initial search, (methodology and rigour are two words that come up a lot in academic research!) A lot
of the dialect words for particular baskets were spelt differently by
the different people who had input the data. This is inevitable with an oral dialect like Shetlandic but it makes it difficult for the database search
mechanism unless it has been very carefully designed to take account of these
variations. Unfortuantely few of the baskets have been photographed for the
database, so it wasn’t possible for me to use images as an extra filter. (I have
given the museum copies of the photos I took for them to use on the database so
it should be a bit easier for the next person looking at baskets). Once this
initial search of the database was done I drew
up a list of the things I wanted to see with their acquisition number and
location reference so that Jenny Murray the
head of the the Collection could locate the objects easily. That done Barbara
and I went to the Museum store for two days and Jenny and Helen brought objects out of the
freezing cold store for us to unwrap examine and photograph.
It was at this
point that the research started to take over. Whilst Jenny and Helen were in
the store getting the things I had asked for, they would spot others on
the shelves that they thought we might
be interested in but which had not come up via the database search. It was
some of these objects that both Barbara and I
enjoyed seeing the most. This simple
besom made of bent is one example.
I cannot forget Jenny saying as she entered the room at the end of one of the days carrying a tissue wrapped package “I know you are going to love this”. We both did, because it was a little twisted and plaited doll made from oat straw that in Shetland dialect was called a “duckie” (there is an image of her on the Wintering in Shetland post). Here then is another word used in Shetland that in another place means something else altogether.
If you want to know more about traditional Scottish baskets and the materials they were made of Woven Communities is a new website recently created through a collaboration between academia, museums and basket makers. It should be the first port of call for anyone doing research on the subject.
I cannot forget Jenny saying as she entered the room at the end of one of the days carrying a tissue wrapped package “I know you are going to love this”. We both did, because it was a little twisted and plaited doll made from oat straw that in Shetland dialect was called a “duckie” (there is an image of her on the Wintering in Shetland post). Here then is another word used in Shetland that in another place means something else altogether.
If you want to know more about traditional Scottish baskets and the materials they were made of Woven Communities is a new website recently created through a collaboration between academia, museums and basket makers. It should be the first port of call for anyone doing research on the subject.
As Community Artists we toured remote communities because of Family requests. Once in a new environment we sequenced the same journey as you outlined above. There was always a living memory, if not a living capable hand to envision our programs. We saw such abundance of natural fibers that all had ancestral memory. Hence we explored the design of curriculum, cottage industry and archival restorative practices. Now retired a comprehensive overview emerges. One aspect of the creative pathway is an experiance of instruction from an intuitive view. With my First Nation Families, this is explained as instruction from ancestral presence and we all nod in agreement. With my background I seek other words to frame this idea. Mathematical Geometric language nails it for my Gnostic perception. Our work now is to reshape all this natural fiber abundance into awakening a collective practice for it’s the living practice that nourishes all.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this.
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