where we stayed (I would heartily recommend it).
And the view from our window.
Shetland Times Bookshop, ready for Wool Week.
Delicious Fair Isle Cake, at the Heritage Yarn launch
Wonderful new yarn from Shetland Organics
Projection of Jo Jack’s work at the Bonhoga Gallery
Jane Outram’s prize-winning tablet weaving at the Shetland Textile Museum.
Pressed-felt brooch by Donna Smith
Shetland Wool cushions by Ella Gordon
Handwoven pincushion from Aamos Designs
Nuff said.
Mel at Aithsetter
Mel and Hazel McKenzie, our Wool-Week landlady.
Sandra and Ella at J&S (if you are wondering about their cardigans, there’s a free pattern here)
Eric Stewart, showing us around the impressive textile facilitation unit at Shetland College
Knitters from six nations enjoying a trip to Unst (yoohoo ladies! It was lovely to meet you!)
Hazel Tindall, teaching Fair Isle
Gudrun, teaching lace
Susan, looking fabulous
Chris Harrison, Operations Director of Vi-Spring, receiving an award from Eric Wilson, past-master of the Worshipful Company of Woolmen, and one of the directors of the Campaign for Wool
Oliver Henry, telling us about the development of the new Shetland Heritage Yarn
(if you look at the window-reflections in the previous 2 photographs, you’ll see Misa and Deborah — the organisational geniuses behind Shetland Wool Week, to whom we are all incredibly grateful for this fantastic event! I think I can also spot Jane’s back in a rather pleasing cardigan . . .)
Me and Bess Jamieson – both wearing Fairisle – at the Shetland Textile Museum.
(Big thanks to Cathy Scott for permission to reproduce her photos of the Unst trip and Hazel’s workshop)
Hello from Shetland, everybody! Wool Week is in full swing, and it has got off to a great start.
I thought you’d like to see the pattern we produced yesterday at the Shetland Museum — named and photographed by the workshop participants, and modeled here by the lovely Tania — the Sixareen Kep.
In the workshop I talked a bit about the way I tend to build up ideas and inspiration for a project, and I thought I’d share with you a little of the background to the design of this kep (cap). This was my starting point:
Stanley Cursiter, The Fair Isle Jumper (1923) Edinburgh City Arts Centre.
Some of you may remember this amazing portrait from the front cover of A Shetland Knitter’s Notebook, and I’ve also mentioned my fascination with it before here. What the sitter is wearing on her head is is a sort of fancy seafarer’s kep. I just love this hat – perhaps apart from the pompoms – and thought it would be an ideal use of Jamieson and Smith’s Shetland Heritage yarn, of which I conveniently had six balls – one in each shade.
(mmmm . . .tasty Shetland Heritage . . . )
The shape of Cursiter’s sitter’s kep also reminded me strongly of the Phrygian or Liberty cap — a symbol of freedom that’s perhaps most most familiarly associated with the French Revolution.
I thought I would like to make the main body of my kep red, rather than white, recalling the Phrygian cap.
Then I started thinking about the different kinds of head-covering worn by fishermen around the coasts of Britain.
These noble chaps were photographed by Hill and Adamson in 1847, just down the road from where I live, in Newhaven. The one on the left is wearing what I think of as a kep — the kind of tall ‘wursit’ hat that would have been familiarly worn by Scottish and English fishermen throughout the Nineteenth Century. While the Newhaven fisherman’s head-covering is evidently fashioned in a single colour, in Shetland, such hats would have been knitted in several bright shades:
In the words of Samuel Hibert, in his Description of the Shetland Islands (1822):
“The boat dress of the fishermen is in many respects striking. A worsted covering for the head, similar in form to the common English or Scotch nightcap, is dyed with so many colours that its bold tints are recognized at a considerable distance, like the stripes of a signal flag.”
The collections of the Shetland Museum abound with beautiful examples of such hats. These keps are knitted at typically tight gauges, and feature internal linings which would have made them incredibly cosy and windproof. With a little further poking around the Shetland Museum online archives, I found this description of some wonderfully elaborate examples, that were knitted up to an old design in the 1950s:
“Haaf hats were the type of hats worn by the crew of a sixareen at the haaf (deep sea) fishing, and were typically patterned with small geometric designs . . .The skipper of the boat wore a bright red cap, while the rest of the crew wore darker ones. This differentiated him from the rest of the crew.”
So with these resonances in mind — the hat in the Cursiter portrait; the red Phyrigian cap; the brightly patterned keps described in nineteenth-century accounts of Shetland; and the sixareen skipper’s red “haaf” hat — I knitted this:
My kep begins with a knitted-in lining, and the colourwork brim is knitted on 2.75mm needles. After joining the lining to the top of the brim, I went up a couple of needle sizes, knitting the main body of the kep at a looser gauge to make it drapey (as well as having great stitch definition for colourwork, because of the way it is spun, the Heritage yarn also drapes well). After knitting and shaping the body of the kep, I finished it off with a braid, made from 3 different coloured i-cords, which I plaited and joined together. Here’s the end result:
The workshop participants had a great discussion about what to name the hat — associations were made with Burra’s famous Papil Cross, the distinctive red geology of Ronas Hill as well as different aspects of Shetland seafaring. A vote was taken, and the name that won out was the Sixareen Kep.
So, the pattern for the Sixareen Kep is now available from Ravelry!
Many thanks to all who participated in the workshop: Victoria Wickham, Shelly Kocan, Tania Ashton Jones, Susan Freeman, Evelyn Mackenzie, Emily Poleson, Mandy Moore, Mary Pirie, Aileen Ryder, Outi Kater, Joyce James, Tori Seirestad, Charlotte Monckton, Ann Leibert, Mary Henderson, Monique Boonstra, Joyce Ward, Lesley Smith, Melanie Ireland and Jen Arnall Culliford.
I appear to have spent the past thirty-six hours in the place Tom refers to as Wool World. This is not actually a world full of wool (just imagine!) but is rather a particularly intense state of being, characterised by a vacant stare, furious knitting, and the inability to talk about anything but knitting. Conversations between ordinary humans and those who have entered wool world tend to go like this:
Tom: What would you like to eat for dinner?
Me: ye gods, the stitch definition on this yarn is incredible.
Tom: How about fish?
Me: Have you seen these colours? Just look at these colours. These colours are a-m-a-z-i-n-g.
While rendering one incapable of ordinary human interaction, or other necessary activities (such as washing oneself, or eating), being in Wool World does have its benefits. Individuals who have entered Wool World may have a weird and somewhat frazzled appearance; they may seem strangely distracted, and vague to the point of vacuity, but they can also be productive.
In my case, thirty-six hours in Wool World has resulted in the completed something mentioned in my previous post. The something is now blocking, and I like it immensely. The Shetland Heritage yarn is seriously wonderful to work with, and I love the results so much that I want to start knitting with it again right away. I am frankly itching to show the finished object to you, but as I have designed and made it specifically for the folk who are attending my workshop, they should really be the first to see it. But there’s not long to wait: the completed pattern will be uploaded to Ravelry on the afternoon of Monday October 8th – one week today!
Now, wasn’t there something else I was supposed to be doing? . . .
Shetland Wool Week is almost upon us! I have much to do in preparation — one pleasing task involves knitting with this lovely stuff.
This is Shetland Heritage yarn. It is the result of an exciting collaboration between the Shetland Museum and Archives, the Shetland Amenity Trust, Curtis Wool Direct, and Jamieson & Smith — the idea being to produce a modern yarn as close as possible to that which was originally used to hand-knit traditional Fair Isle garments.
Some of you may remember a post I wrote last year about this Fair Isle cardigan, that I picked up second hand.
Like most traditional Fair Isle garments produced before the 1940s, the yarn used to knit this cardigan was worsted spun. This process — in which the raw wool is combed rather than carded, then drawn short, and spun so that the fibres sit parallel to one another — produces a yarn with a smooth hand, and a very even finish. Many old Fair Isle garments have a slight ‘sheen’ that is the result of the smooth worsted yarns that have been used to knit them.
Like the vintage yarn used to knit my cardigan, the new Heritage Yarn is worsted spun.
Because of the way the fibre has been prepared and processed, this yarn has a much smoother, softer, and overall less “woolly” feel than contemporary knitter would be used to finding in other “Shetland” or Shetland-type yarns.
The palette — which is based on that of early Fair Isle garments in the Shetland Museum — works really well for traditional colourwork patterns. Just take a look at the beautiful swatch towards the end of Jen’s post here — suggesting the promise of great Jen AC things to come!
I mention this yarn, because it is one of the linchpins of this year’s Shetland Wool Week, and because I am about to knit up a something in it myself, which will hopefully form the basis of my workshop at the Shetland Museum. In the coming days, I intend to knit the something and produce a design. Then the idea is that we – the class and I – will collectively model the something, photograph the something, name the something, then upload the something in pattern form to Ravelry, live from the Shetland Museum. This plan is, of course, contingent upon my producing a successful Wool-Week something with this wonderful yarn. Wish me luck! I’m off to get knitting . . .
A final wool-week round up . . .
Shetland rams at Lunna
prize-winning Shetland fleeces
Traditional tam in natural Shetland sheep-shades from the Shetland Museum collection.
Weaving sample book from the museum collection.
Fairisle swatches from the museum collection – some worked as individual swatches, most simply cut from old garments to preserve the pattern.
Swatches of more recent ilk! Gudrun (wearing Norie and Aestlight Shawl ) and Mary Jane lay out the source material from Mary Jane’s invaluable new book 200 Fairisle Motifs. Order your copy today!
I found it quite overwhelming looking at Mary Jane’s beautiful swatches – I could have gazed at their infinite variety for hours – but I was repeatedly drawn to those at the centre of this photo.
Here is Sarah examining the gorgeous garments from Gudrun’s collection, while wearing a natty cardigan of her own. . .
. . .in fact, Sarah is always clad in interesting knitwear. He she is once again trying (and failing) to avoid the camera wearing a cardigan knitted by Sandra Manson (whose Viking Tunic you’ll find in the Knit Real Shetland collection), and a tam made by her friend Ottilie.
This is a Sanquhar glove, knitted in laceweight alpaca on teeny-tiny needles by Masami Yokoyama.
Masami (the elegant figure in the foreground of this photo, with Sue and Megan behind her) is a superlative knitter, and a great Fairisle designer too – you’ll find the pattern for her Osaka tea-cosy in the Knit Real Shetland collection).
And to close – perhaps the most inspiring hand-knitted piece I saw in a week full of knitting inspiration. This is a prize-winning lace dress, owned by Cathie Leask and knitted by her aunt over fifty years ago. The tale of this beautiful garment was part of Cathie’s entry in the Shetland Stories Competition. I felt very privileged to be able to see this dress, while reading Cathie’s memories about it.
I think that the most enjoyable few hours knitting I’ve ever had was the afternoon I spent last Wednesday with Hazel Tindall at the Braewick Cafe. Since 2008, Hazel has held the title of the world’s fastest knitter, working an unbelievable 262 stitches in 3 minutes. She is also an incredibly talented designer – Jamieson & Smith carry many of her patterns, and you’ll find her Peat Hill Waistcoat in their new Knit Real Shetland book. And last but definitely not least, Hazel is a patient and generous teacher, sharing her skills, ideas, and expertise with groups who want to learn more about traditional Fairisle knitting. I had been looking forward to taking a workshop with Hazel, as I was sure it was going to be a treat. And it really was.
Hazel began by telling us about the qualities of Shetland wool, and spoke of her particular affection for the natural sheep shades with their unique warmth and durability. She showed us swatches she had knitted of the same lozenge pattern in different natural colours, revealing the wide variety of aesthetic effects that can be created with this subtle palette of greys, browns and fawns.
The knitterly potential of the natural palette was perfectly illustrated by this fabulous hoodie which Hazel had designed.
Here’s a close-up.
Then it was time for us to experiment with the natural sheep shades. A hush descended . . .
The tea kept flowing, and we kept working under Hazel’s guidance.
This is what we could see outside the windows.
. . . all too easy to get distracted.
Later, Hazel treated us to a demonstration of her working methods. I particularly liked her emphasis on keeping the knitting under control – excess fabric is tied down and tethered, loose strands are kept far away from each other, the project knows who is the boss — no tangles are going to occur here!
Like other Shetland knitters I’ve met, and perhaps contrary to popular conception, Hazel finishes garments with knotting.
Mary Jane mentioned some beautiful knots the other day; and I’ve seen many garments in museum collections that are finished in a like manner. Personally, I never say not to a knot . . .
Would you like a peek of Hazel knitting?
Early in the clip, Hazel is slowly demonstrating how she makes stitches and shifts the work around the wires, and you can see that by the end she is beginning to build up a mind-boggling speed . . .
After the demonstration, Hazel reached behind her into a basket and brought out several of her amazing finished creations. Hold your breath, folks!
There are so many impressive things here, but I particularly like the way that some of Hazel’s designs establish a strong sense of vertical continuity through combinations of pattern and colour. I also felt, when looking at Hazel’s work, that you could really feel the pleasure she’d taken in the knitting. These are garments that really speak of their maker’s distinctive creative curiosity.
Later, over a slice of home-baked cake (nom) and another cup of tea (joy), Hazel treated us to a reading of Stella Sutherland’s beautiful poem about Fairisle knitting — “The Allover”.
Please turn up your audio, and ignore the white noise and clinking tea-cups in the background — it is worth hearing.
The first stanza in the clip reads:
Your mind haes a joy o creation
laek writin a rhyme — hit’s nae lee —
whin your fingers an wires in relation
maks da colours an patterns agree.
All I can say is that these lines absolutely perfectly express what I feel about Fairisle knitting.
Outside, the clouds moved across Eshaness’s golden hills and grand open sky.
Nowhere in the world to match this.
Thankyou, Hazel.
Huzzah for Shetland Wool Week! I have been enjoying:
Spectacular landscapes in beautiful weather . . .
(The Drongs from Braewick)
. . .hanging out with my favourite woolly creatures
(Shetland sheep at Lunna)
. . .meeting inspiring people . . .
(Hazel Tindall)
. . . good company . . .
(Wool Holiday comrades)
. . . and glorious knitting as far as the eye could see.
I feel both proud and immensely humbled to have been involved.
I am sure you are about as tired of hearing about my health as I am of experiencing it, but it has not been a great few days round here. I had a seizure on Sunday which left me totally exhausted, and scuppered a long-arranged plan to pop over to Glasgow earlier in the week. I have had a few of these seizures recently, and they are becoming increasingly troubling and disruptive. I previously assumed them to be migrainous, but as they are completely unlike any migraine I suffered prior to my stroke, my doctors are now considering the possibility that other neurological issues may be involved. I am glad things are being investigated – as long as I can gain some understanding of what on earth is going on in my stroke-addled grey matter, I will really be much happier.
Amidst all this weird shit, several cheering packages turned up all at once. This is the way of things, sometimes. And, entirely coincidentally, all the packages contained fish.
From Jeanette
(lemon for display purposes only)
From Anne
From Elizabeth
These fish – with their different but equally pleasing fishy shapes – make me very happy indeed. Thankyou so much, Jeanette, Anne, and Elizabeth! Your thoughtful gifts appeared here at just the right time.
Anyway, its not all bad – over a couple of days in bed I managed to knit up a fun new hat, which I’ve designed especially for Shetland wool week. All I’ll say right now is BAAAAAAAA. You’ll see it at the weekend.
A breezy day. Everything has that blown-out, blown-back look to it.
In the undergrowth, broom-pods rattle like crazy maracas.
And what’s that rustling beneath the willowherb and gorse?
:: I am already making the second mitten to form an actual pair. Hold still my beating heart – there will be a pattern.
:: My peppers are ripening nicely. Hurrah!
:: Have you seen this? I shall be there for the whole thing. Weaving! Sheep! Wool sorting and grading! How I excited am I?
