Jessica Pigza's blog

The latest issue of ReadyMade features a great DIY gift idea from Kimberly Scola: embroidered letters. The project brought to my mind a book on embroidered letters that I had seen earlier this fall. It’s called the Embroiderer’s Book of Design and it was published in London in 1860. Each page offers an alphabet in a differing style—some look as it they will require quite a bit of skill on the embroiderer’s part, but they are all lovely. I've posted four of my favorite pages here (above and below, below, and below):

So, if you are considering stitching up personalized embroidered gifts, consider the vintage lettering styles from the pages of this book. Happy holiday crafting!

To learn more about lettering, and monograms in particular, check out my post at Design*Sponge today on how to design your very own monogram. I’m the guest blogger there this week, where I’ve been sharing inspiring library resources.

Watch as the Design by the Book artists come to the Library in search of inspiration and information!

(Yes, it's made of soap. From Lester Gaba's On Soap Sculpture.)

I first came upon the subject heading soap sculpture in CATNYP a couple of weeks ago, and I just had to investigate. And what I found more than confirmed my love of the serendipitous nature of research.

I learned-—in looking through a few books on the subject as well as articles in Proquest's Historical New York Newspapers database-—that soap sculpture as a fashionable hobby was launched by Proctor & Gamble as a means of promoting brand loyalty for Ivory soap. The man behind this campaign was Edward L. Bernays, who has been called the Father of Spin. Proctor & Gamble sponsored a series of competitive soap sculpture exhibitions in the twenties, and winners took home cash prizes. Within the first three years of the campaign's launch, prizes totaling $1,675 were given to winners among no fewer than four thousand entries (as reported in the New York Times, June 6, 1928).

On Soap Sculpture by Lester Gaba (1935) provides both a short introduction to the soap sculpture craze as well as a guide for the amateur artist interested in this medium. This "Cinderella of Sculpture" (yet another book on the subject by Gaba) was without doubt ephemeral, and this makes the specimens pictured in Gaba's book even more impressive for their ambitious and sometimes unbelievably complex details.

(Also from Lester Gaba's On Soap Sculpture.) →

If you want to try your hand at soap sculpture, Ivory Soap is still ready to help with tips for "pure fun" with its soap. And you can come in and read about it at the Library too.

Happy St. Nicholas Day!

Dec. 6th is the feast day of St. Nicholas, who was a bishop of Myra in fifth-century Anatolia. (You can read more about this legendary saint in the Encyclopedia of the Medieval World.) Today is also traditionally the day in which children (and adults, if you please) awaken to discover small gifts and treats placed in their shoes (or stockings, if you prefer) during the night by St. Nicholas. I like this menu, from an 1885 annual dinner of the St. Nicholas Society, because it features a knitting Dutchwoman making stockings for the holiday. It's from NYPL's Menu Collection, and is one of many wintry scenes and cards that can be found in the Digital Gallery. Cheers!

(An illustration from Spitzenbilder, Papierschnitte, Porträtsilhouetten, one of the books I'll bring to class.)

One of the best parts of my job is connecting readers with the stuff that they want or need. I’m excited to have an opportunity to do just that with makers and crafty types this Friday (12/5), from 3:15 to 4:15pm, when I’ll teach a free one-hour class on how library materials can inform and inspire you in your own DIY endeavors. I’ll bring along a bunch of materials from the collection to share—including the book above, as well as vintage design books and fabric and wallpaper samples that I found when working with our Design by the Book artists. The South Court classroom opens at 3:00, and class starts at 3:15. There’s no registration and the class is free; just come on in and grab a seat!

Voltaire the author and father of the French Enlightenment—we know about him, of course. But this influential philosopher also loved handmade work.
Voltaire has a place in my heart, and I have devoted time as a librarian to cataloguing eighteenth-century books in The Martin J. Gross Collection of works by Voltaire and his contemporaries for the Library’s Rare Book Division. And so, on this most special of days, I want to share with you the following excerpt, from Voltaire’s Philosophical Dictionary, which illustrates his appreciation for the handmade:

“Physical experiments, ably conducted, arts and handicraft—these are the true philosophy. My sage…is he who, with his shuttle, covers my walls with pictures of linen or of silk, brilliant with the finest colors; or he who puts into my pocket a chronometer of silver or of gold.”

You’ll find this in the entry for Xenophanes (page 271, v. 7, in a 1901 edition of Voltaire’s collected works).

Happy Birthday, Voltaire!

(Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

I'm so pleased to be able to tell you, at last, all about a project that has been consuming me this fall at NYPL. This amazing project that I've been lucky enough to work on is a series of small documentaries following five talented local artists as they gather inspiration for their work at the New York Public Library. It's co-produced by Grace Bonney of leading design site Design*Sponge and my Library colleagues in the Digital Experience Group. The first episode is now out, and you can watch here:

I'll continue to post news about the series here, so stay tuned. You can also visit the Design by the Book homepage for more information, including links to each artist's site.

← A Rich Display of Chrysanthemums (Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

The chrysanthemum, which "occupies the sovereign position in autumn," has particular pride of place in Japanese culture. The blossoms can be spotted on the Japanese royal crest, in elaborate floral arrangements, at mealtimes as an edible accompaniment, and as an element in Japanese design. And for the next few weeks, chrysanthemums take center stage at the New York Botanical Garden. Until November 16th, visitors to the New York Botanical Garden can take in Kiku: The Art of the Japanese Chrysanthemum.

In addition to the impressive flowers themselves--be sure to see the four Imperial styles of chrysanthemum arrangements, including the type pictured above in which each plant produces just a single, brillant blossom--don't neglect to take in an accompanying small exhibition of chrysanthemums in art. Of all of the lovely objects included in this display, I was especially drawn to a number of delicately executed stencils in paper and silk used to decorate textiles.

After admiring these stencils, I returned to the Library and found books of Japanese stencil patterns from the late 19th century (in Stencils of Old Japan and The Book of Delightful and Strange Designs). These patterns remain inspiring and inviting to the eye today, and I'm pondering what I might use these patterns for in the future. To learn more about Japanese stencil work, I'd also recommend Japanese Design through Textile Patterns (which devotes an entire chapter to the chrysanthemum) and Carved Paper: The Art of the Japanese Stencil.

In addition to the sheep-peeping I did in Michigan earlier this month, I also took in some beautiful tilework made by Detroit's own Pewabic Pottery. As I learned when touring the stunning Guardian Building in downtown Detroit (with its richly glazed Pewabic Pottery ceiling tiles), Pewabic Pottery was founded on Arts and Crafts principles over one hundred years ago, and buildings throughout Detroit (and across the country as well) boast examples of its tiles and mosaics.

← The Detroit Skyline (Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

Pewabic Pottery remains a prominent creative force in the teaching, exhibition, installation, and craftsmanship of pottery today. Pewabic Pottery's site has plenty of images of its work (click on the Design Studio tab). You can also peruse The Arts and Crafts Movement in Michigan: 1886-1906 and The Pewabic Pottery at the Library if you want to read, learn, and see more. And the National Park Service includes Pewabic Pottery in its recommended Detroit itinerary. As for me, I'm going to head to the 34th Street/Herald Square subway station, which has an installation of tiles from Pewabic Pottery!

Last weekend I took a trip to Michigan for a few days. A highlight of the trip was a visit to a farm museum in Dearborn--Greenfield Village. The place itself is more than farm, however; it's an odd and bustling tribute to Henry Ford's vision of American ingenuity and inventiveness, with some traditional technologies like farming, milling, wool carding, and pottery mixed in. (The Library has plenty of books about Greenfield Village and its history available if you are interested in this open-air museum's collection.)

I will be the first to admit that I am a farm museum junkie. I love greeting the cows and sheep, and learning about agricultural history and heirloom plants. These places also allow you to get a bit closer than one usually does in daily life to the sources of what we eat and what we wear. Here's one of the many friendly and woolly sheep at Greenfield (that's a 19th c. cider mill in the background).

And speaking of wool, a Greenfield guide stationed in a 17th c. American farmhouse demonstrated wool dying techniques of that time. And another staff member kindly explained how not one but two different types of spinning wheels worked. I was especially grateful to her for this demonstration, because I've been reading about spinning wheels in Laurel Thatcher Ulrich's excellent The Age of Homespun: Objects and Stories in the Creation of an American Myth and I have been struggling to picture how just how they worked. Now I understand, thanks to this kind guide.

In a final wool-related note, I spent my last Michigan morning at the wonderful City Knits. I came home with some soft sage green Shepherd's Wool from Michigan-based Stonehedge Farm and Fiber Mill.

Do you know how a gramophone acts? (Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

Last Thursday, instead of making myself squirm through the vice-presidential debate as it unfolded live, I went to a concert. The musician Andrew Bird played the Tarrytown Music Hall, and his haunting, looping violin (combined with glockenspiel, guitar, voice, and whistling) filled the room with mesmerizing and sweeping sounds. The performance was unforgettable; I've never seen such an impressive and complex one-man show.

But even before the musician took the stage, I was rapt, because standing in readiness on the stage were four luminous sculptural forms that appeared to be a marriage between gramophones and human-sized flowers. What could they be? Luckily, Mr. Bird anticipated audience curiosity and introduced them to us. These one-of-a-kind custom creations are speakers created by Ian Schneller, who makes musical instruments by hand at his studio, Specimen Products. Schneller's work is featured in Hand Made, Hand Played: The Art & Craft of Contemporary Guitars by Robert Shaw, whose previous books include America's Traditional Crafts.

Schneller's speakers filled the hall with sound, while their glowing and undulating surfaces also contributed to the atmosphere of the Hall. You can view these stunning speakers in action here. And here, you can see the extra-large horn speaker as it is created, step by step.

The croq I'm talking about is from the Pacific Northwest, NOT the Nile! (Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

NYPL has been collecting zines for a number of years, and these homegrown periodicals powerfully document both popular culture and literary trends. In the world of the handmade, Croq is a zine worth close reading. As explained on its website, Croq's "focus is the DIY crafty community with a craftivism edge," and editor Heather Mann strives to provide an ambitious but welcoming mix of how-to articles, critical commentary, interviews, guidance, and book/zine reviews. I am very happy to announce that NYPL has a complete run of all of the issues so far (and that we will continue to purchase issues as they come out). So come on in and immerse yourself in the world of Croq and the rest of the zine collection at NYPL!

A kimono from 1910. (Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

A few months ago I spent some holiday time among the rows of lovely and unusual fabrics at H. Kimura, an unassuming little fabric shop with an overwhelming selection in Kealakekua, Hawaii (my thanks to my sister for taking me there!). This shop was well stocked with Japanese cotton prints like the chrysanthemum cotton print in the detail below, which I made into a Walkaway Dress (Butterick 6015).

I've been fond of Japanese patterns for many years, and I am grateful that there are sources closer to home than H. Kimura where I can easily get at them. One shop in New York is City Quilter, and a spot online with plenty of irresistible Japanese offerings is Reprodepot.

But if you want to read up on the art and the history of Japanese fabrics and textile design, I'd recommend turning to the Library. NYPL's Humanities & Social Sciences Research Library has dozens of illustrated books and exhibition catalogs to browse through. And don't forget about the Digital Gallery, with its many samples of Japanese textiles digitized and ready for browsing online.

(Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

I've just begun reading Nancy Mitford's essay collection The Water Beetle and have learned that this author's name can be added to the list of notable needlewomen who contributed to the World War I effort.

In "Blor," the first essay in this collection, she recollects how she crocheted for the cause:
"I was soon sitting like a tricoteuse, on the balcony of Grandfather Redesdale's house in Kensy High Street, crocheting an endless purple scarf while the troops marched by on their way to France. (There was no khaki wool to be had so early in the war--you took what you could get.)"

Soon after, she apparently obtained a supply of khaki yarn:
"I fell in love with Captain Platt in my father's regiment, an important General of the next war, and crocheted endless pairs of khaki mittens for him--I am not sure that they were inflicted on him. In any chase, all this crocheting was the nearest I ever got to killing an enemy, a fact which I am still regretting."

In 1914, Nancy Mitford would have turned just ten years old. To learn more about the life of Nancy Mitford, you can read books about her that the Library has at the Humanities & Social Sciences Research Library or those available for checkout at the branches.

A view of San Quentin. (Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

I've been reading World War I-era newspapers lately (using America's Historical Newspapers, a full-text database available at NYPL), in a search of mention of famous knitters on the home front whose flying fingers supported the war effort. And yesterday I found a small article from the Daily Alaska Dispatch that painted a vivid picture of such efforts. A report from San Francisco published Dec. 7, 1917, begins: "Knitting needles are flying in the cells and workshops at the San Quentin and Folsom state penitentiaries, and a big assortment of socks, sweaters and other sartorial comforts are being turned out for the American troops in France and in the domestic service." As the article goes on to explain, both men and women inmates knit their bit, via programs administered by the Red Cross.

I'll continue reading and with luck will report on other knitters of note in the future.

Wishing they knew how to keep their tea warmer, no doubt. (Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

After reading a recent article in Australia's Age about the demand for unique handcrafted tea cosies made by volunteers in Pascoe Vale, Australia, I became curious about the past and present status of the cosy.

According to Richard Rutt in A History of Hand Knitting, the first documented use of a tea cosy was in 1867. Tea cosies flourished during the Victorian era, a period in which homemakers were obsessed with the decoration or covering of any and all available objects.

Tea cosies had their heyday on this side of the Atlantic as well, as the newspapers of the late nineteenth century reveal. An Oct. 20, 1892 article in the Philadelphia Inquirer reported that "cosies are enjoying a sudden and unexpected rise in public favor" among women who hosted afternoon teas in their reception rooms. In Boston, a town with quite a reputation when it comes to tea parties, an issue of the Boston Journal (Nov. 25, 1879) included in its women's advice column an explanation of just what a tea cosy is--"simply a wadded covering for your teapot"-- and hints on making one: "Some very handsome ones are made of remnants of heavy brocade, but linen is generally used, embroidered or not, according to taste, as these covers are washable. Make the covering large enough for your teapot and provide a ring at the top to lift it off with." I read these articles in America's Historical Newspapers, an excellent database which enables you to find what you want fast in old American newspapers--it's available at all Library locations.

What is happening in the world of contemporary tea cosies? Teapotmania: The Story of the British Craft Teapot and Teacosy provides some answers. This exhibition catalog for a 1995 show at the Norfolk Museums and Archeology Service on contemporary British artists' and artisans' embrace of the teapot and teacosy as artistic forms provides both historical context as well as plenty of illustrations of the objects included in this exhibition. Artists of both pottery and needlework will find inspiration in the work of the artists represented here. Additionally, this museum's teapot collection now numbers almost three thousand teapots that can be browsed at their website. And if etsy is any guide, then there is both an interest and a market for handmade cosies today--search tea cozy AND tea cosy to be sure that you don't miss out.

It turns out that you need not drink tea in a cold drafty home to appreciate a fine cosy, after all.

Just one of dozens of inspiring textile designs available for browsing on NYPL Digital Gallery. Search for textile design to see more!

In last week's Handmade Then and Now* class, I met some very creative people and we exchanged plenty of good ideas for learning, obtaining materials, and finding new creative outlets. Here are three sites we discussed in class, for those who wish to follow up:

Spoonflower
While still in beta (which means, among other things, that you have to put yourself on a waiting list to have a chance to use it), this service is worth watching and waiting for. It allows you to design your own fabric—Spoonflower then prints as much of it as you want and sends it to you!

Materials for the Arts
Run by NYC’s Department of Cultural Affairs, this organization supports active re-use of objects with arts and crafts potential. They collect and then distribute arts supplies of all kinds to community projects, schools, and arts programs.

Material Connexion Library
This library, maintained by Material Connexion, provides access to innovative materials of all kinds. Their resources can help designers to select innovative, sustainable, or cradle-to-cradle materials that work best with their creations.

My thanks, once again, for the great conversation, suggestions, and questions. It's always such a treat to connect with enthusiastic handmakers.

*Taught at NYPL, this class provides ideas for the craft-curious on how the Library can inform and inspire one's handmade creations. If you’d like to attend a future Handmade Then and Now class, just keep an eye on the calendar. I’ll teach it again this fall!

This giant could learn a thing or two about dapper dressing from Mr. Awesome. (Image from NYPL Digital Gallery.)

Awesome is the title of the newest book by Jack Pendarvis, which has just been published. It is Mr. Pendarvis's first novel, and, as I was reading it this past weekend, I began to suspect that the author might have craft sympathies. Why, you ask? Because handmade habits crop up again and again throughout this riotous tall tale of a self-involved giant who embarks on a cross-country quest for love. The resulting story is bawdy and unsentimental, filled with cannily precise humor that begs to be read aloud, to be performed.

The following handmade bits make appearances in Awesome:
The giant protagonist (giant in stature and ego) plans a visit to "a hub of recreational sewing" in search for a needle in a haystack. He also meets an artisanal cheesemaker who sells craft supplies to "sewing aficionados" on eBay. And throughout, he makes robots, fashions a "mighty wagon" to transport his collection of treasures, and designs his own car. Beekeeping, mosaic repair, "underground knitting culture," homemade zines, and a pair of giant trousers fashioned from some circus tents all have cameo roles in this novel as well.

Mr. Pendarvis's two earlier books, both collections of short stories, are available for borrowing. The Library doesn't yet have Awesome, but I'm confident that we will soon.

To learn more about Jack Pendarvis, visit his blog.

Nineteenth Century French Bottlemakers (Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

Bastille Day is just around the corner, and its arrival has led me to think more about the Paris depicted in a book that I recently read. Nancy Mitford's Don't Tell Alfred is set in mid-20th century Paris. This tale follows the misadventures of an unseasoned English ambassadress and her awful and entertaining relatives--from her Teddy Boy sons to her swooning niece/secretary, and from her mother (known as The Bolter) to her uncle Davey (a voracious consumer of medical treatments).

Now, there's a craft angle coming, I promise. Chapter 14 opens with Davey's arrival in Paris. He invites his niece (our intrepid ambassadress) to join him on an errand that will introduce her to a corner of Paris she'd not been before.

"I want to see if the man in the rue de Saintonge who used to blow glass is still there. I last saw him forty years ago -- Paris being what it is I'm quite sure we shall find him.
'Where is the rue de Saintonge?'
'I'll take you. It's a beautiful walk from here.'
It was indeed a beautiful walk. . . .  read more »

Have "modish travelling-costume," will travel! (Image from NYPL Digital Gallery)

Connecting with enthusiastic craft-loving people is a big part of why I enjoy teaching my Handmade Then and Now class at the Library. And this weekend I will have the good fortune of talking with even more yarn devotees at Knitty City, where I've been invited to teach knitters and crocheters how to get the most out of the Library's collections. I'm more than glad to take my little Handmade show on the road.

Knitty City is a bright and cozy shop on the Upper West Side. It is brimming with books, yarns, hooks, needles, patterns, and friendly staff. The staff is knowledgeable, enthusiastic, and very welcoming. They know their fiber arts and have given me great advice and encouragement on sock making and yarn choice. In my class I will provide helpful hints on navigating New York Public Library as a whole, I'll share tips on searching for patterns (both new and vintage), and I'll bring along some examples to share. And if I've gotten far at all in my first attempt at socks (I'm following Cookie A's Hedera pattern, I'll bring my work along to share with you all. So please bring your own knitting too, and join us!

Saturday, June 21, 1:00pm
Knitty City
208 West 79th (between Broadway and Amsterdam)