Yesterday afternoon I took a break from grading a cardigan (a task that makes my eyes spin round) and spent a happy hour (as I often do) poking about the Rijksmuseum – which is one of those wonderful institutions who have digitised and made publicly available large portions of their collection. If you have an hour or two to spare today, you could do worse than to virtually spend it here. The search interface is easy to use (you can set the site’s language preferences to English); the image reproduction quality is superb; the information about each object is comprehensive; and the user can easily create and organise their own ‘sets’ for future reference. In making all this material publicly available, the Rijksmuseum explicitly encourages the use of its collections for creative purposes, through brilliant initiatives like the Rijksmuseum award (I encourage you to click the link and marvel at the entries for the 2017 award).
My happy hour yesterday was spent with the Rijksmuseum’s wonderful collection of darning samplers, which I explored simply using “stoplap” as a single search term (“stoppen” being Dutch for darning). I’ve written about mending a few times (most recently in Wheesht) and I often find a lot of inspiration in darning samplers generally, and eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Dutch samplers in particular. There’s aesthetic inspiration to be found in the stitches themselves, in the choices made by individual darners, and the different effects that are achieved when stabilising fabric by mimicking woven structures with a needle and thread – especially when a pattern is worked in two directions with two or more colours. There’s inspiration of an historic kind, too, as I think about the women and girls who made these stitches, their time and place in the world, what it might have meant to them to mark that moment with a needle, and their personal relationships to the work of stitching (a form of labour equally beloved and despised, performed with or without remuneration). And darning samplers also bring me a more general, more material kind of inspiration, as I reflect on the individuality and universality of experiences of making and and mending textiles across cultures and through time.
I’ve arranged this selection chronologically, which also gave me a lot to think about (just look at the mended corners!) I hope you enjoy these, and, if you’ve not already virtually visited, the Rijksmuseum.
1742
1750
1762
1766
1772
1797
1798
1803
1819
1837
1875
1895
1916
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Thank you for this post. I have recently discovered visible mending and think it is fantastic. Also thanks to Vivienne for her link to the exhibition and Rachel for the heads up about the instagram account full of visible mending. Happy days. 😊
Oh they are totally delightful! Thank you for sharing Kate. I remember going to the Quilts 1700 – 2010 exhibition at the V&A and afterwards I went to view the textiles on the top floor. I was blown away. I could have spent days there. Sadly when I returned with my daughter they’d moved the whole collection and it is by appointment only. Seeing these things in the real is another whole experience and well worth it if you can.
These samplers are amazing – and what a brilliant ethos the Rijksmuseum has!
Arrived late to this party, but ah, these samplers did my heart good! Somehow this small set of, well, examples of how to bring order to a small universe, is so satisfying. Thank you!
I think this sums it up exactly, Pam
Hi….been trying my hand and mending but realizing how there’s much I need to learn, could you suggest a nice place to start with a reference or two? Thank you! Lori
I did like the colours of the 1802 sampler and the center embroidery of 1875. These are not for the faint of heart. thank you.
So excited to explore these links on line. My mother, who was born in the Great Depression, would have loved your post, Kate. She was an expert self-taught darner and had a collection of darning eggs that I cherish. I’m wondering if anyone else remembers the cotton darning thread that used to be available in our drygoods stores here in the U.S.?
I am amazed at how vibrant the thread colors are still, considering their age.
Yes! this is so good! love her! xx
Stunning! Many of these motifs look surprisingly “modern” to someone who is not familiar with historic stitch and weave patterns!
Thank you for this post (and all your daily posts!) as it took me on a trip down memory lane. I was born and brought up in Holland, and the Rijksmuseum was and is one my most beloved places anywhere. The website is indeed very good. Also in Amsterdam there is a museum that used to be an orphanage. The orphans were taught mending skills as a way to earn a living, some of these samplers may be from there.
My mother had four sisters and twelve brothers. It was the girls’ task to knit and darn all the socks for the menfolk. Every day after school. my mother had to knit ten rounds on a sock before she was allowed out to play. She told me that her eldest sister placed a red thread at the last round, my mother had to show her the day’s quota so my aunt could count the ten rows. On days when the weather was just too beautiful, my mother used to move the red thread down, knit fewer rounds and get outside sooner. It put her off for life. Only once did I see her knit a pair of socks for my dad, that was a sort of forfeit I think. But she taught us how to darn socks, and how to quickly thread a needle without sucking the end of the thread (a most useful skill), and how to sew on a button, and that was all she could bring herself to pass on. She died when I was in my teens. Reading your post, I wondered what she would have thought if she could know that I am an avid sock knitter (and darner!), never without a sock on the needles and I must have produced well over 150 pairs of socks…..
Elien, the Amsterdam Museum is in what used to be the Burgerweeshuis (Citizens’ Orphanage). The 1895 sampler by Gesina Tjaden was made there. Johanna Hendrika Scholtz, who made the 1875 sampler, was in another orphanage, the protestant Diaconieweeshuis. And the 1837 sampler was made by Maria Egersman in the Werk- en Leerschool, an important training school for poor girls. So these three are all from Amsterdam. About the others, I don’t know!
I have always loved the beauty of darning samplers. But what they make me wonder is – do museums also have extant garments in their collection with this beautiful type of darning on them? Was this darning only really meant for household linens? I’m a textile conservation student, and I have seen a range of mended and darned textiles through my work – and they are always distinctly of a rough and ready, this will be fine, kind of approach. I would love to know if this kind of darning comes up in situ, or if it was only ever used on samplers.
I know less about the museum collection side of things, but I can tell you that even now, in the mills that produce high-end Scottish textiles, there are one or two expert darners, employed to mend minor flaws in fabric and finished garments, who are capable of matching a fine weave or knit pattern in much the same way that these samplers demonstrate. Because they are made in exactly the same yarn / thread as a bolt of cloth, and because of the extraordinary skill involve, such mends are often virtually invisible. Girls in nineteenth century orphanages or charity schools were often taught this skill: if they could mend textiles so that the mends were indiscernible, they’d be set up for a relatively well-paying job with a local manufacturer.
So fascinating! I’ve not encountered these types of samplers before! I’m curious, did they just practice the stitches, or were they given a series of holes and tears to fix? Thank you so much for sharing!
They’re repairing holes in the samplers – everywhere that two colours cross, a hole is being filled in. You can see that fairly clearly in the 1916 sampler, where the edges of the holes are still a bit rough. Most of the samplers have squared-off holes, but a few also have L-shaped ones. It’s so impressive!
These are lovely! There’s also a great selection of darning samplers available in the online catalogue of the Textile Research Centre in Leiden, which you can find by searching here: http://trc-leiden.nl/collection/?
thankyou!
I will have to remember this the next time I mend sweaters. The Milarrochy Tweed makes for a nice mending thread.
These are wonderful
Sent from my iPad
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Thank you for introducing me to the lovely world of darning samplers. I have been enjoying rather a lot of darning recently: sahiko visible darning of jeans and repairs to moth eaten cashmere sweaters. Another pastime that my normally busy life sets as a low priority, but what a sense of comfort and satisfaction it has given me. However, I had never before heard of samplers and oh what a happy hour I have spent investigating these beautiful works of art.
I look forward to tomorrow’s post from you.
What do you use to darn your cashmere sweaters? I have three that need attention (along with a very fine Shetland cardigan), and do not know where to try to find thread/yarn and how closely to try to match the color. (I am an experienced knitter and spinner and have darned many socks; the sweaters have me stumped.) Even before the pandemic, all my textile supplies were purchased mail order — there is only one yarn shop within 20 miles of me and they have not been helpful.
You could try colourmart.com Kristen. They have cashmere in many colours, and will send a sample, which might be enough to darn with.
Hah! This’ll give me a kick up the backside. I’ve got 2 pairs of socks waiting for a visit from the angel of patience (one home made, one expensive shop bought hiking socks) that have been sitting alongside my much more exciting knitting projects for a couple of weeks.
Angel of Patience is right!
Fed up of throwing my husband’s holey socks away I thought I’d try out my darning skills learnt at school 50 years ago. I used thin wool and ran out of patience quickly as it didn’t look very substantial. I put them in the washing machine anyway and the mend came out beautifully felted and almost indistinguishable from the main body of the sock. To say that I’m pleased with myself is an understatement. #simple pleasures
hurrah!
An encouraging story!
Thank you, Kate, for your generosity in creating and sharing these daily posts – they are a tonic. And thanks too Vivienne for sharing your exhibition booklet – what a beautiful project.
Very interesting Kate, thanks for the recommendations.
Wow, thank you for sharing. I’m particularly impressed how the pattern is still maintained when two colours ‘meet’.
Not to forget all those tiny impeccable castles 🏰 and flowers 💐 😊
Amazing the patience required! I think I would have found making a sampler quite frustrating. Mending an actual thing has clear and practical purpose, a sampler just seems like torture.
I recently started following a beautiful mender on Insta, I need to try harder with my darning. https://instagram.com/visible_creative_mending?igshid=ruw81tyil0sa
Thanks for this Kate. I’m obsessed with darning samplers and a few years back curated an exhibition of the exquisite samplers (and miniature scale garments) held at Whitelands College, University of Roehampton. If anyone’s interested they can download the (free) accompanying booklet I wrote here: https://www.gold.ac.uk/media/documents-by-section/staff-and-students/library/Remedy-for-Rents-A5-Leaflet.pdf
what a gift! Thankyou so much, Vivienne – I’ll link to your exhibition tomorrow
Sorry Kate, only just seen this – long day, even in lockdown. Thank you! Was so carried away with the excitement of seeing darning samplers I forgot to say how much I love your work, blog, spirit, ethos. Please keep it coming!
Thanks for linking to the booklet you wrote – it looks really interesting. I’ve downloaded it for a proper read.
I just loved the bird pop up book in the 2017 finalists. And the 2015 finalists are stunning 😀