Winter Gardening With Threads

Dear readers,

Whilst gazing with pleasure the other day at Annie's February Floral Mood Board over at Knitsofacto I suddenly recalled with a whoop of joy that I have in my possession a painting my mother made of her garden flowers gathered in February a few years ago.  For those of you, like Green Rabbit Design's lady, Vivienne, who are impatiently awaiting the arrival of Lady Spring, my mother's work may gladden your weary hearts.  These flowers were flourishing in her garden in the last two weeks of February.  Surprising, don't you think?  Thankfully my mother painted similar mood boards for the ensuing months.  She has always been very good about bringing her garden into our childhood home; small posies often ornamented our meal times and there was a lot of artwork which expressed her passion for gardening and carried us through the winter months whilst the garden was slumbering.

Gardening inspires so many art forms.  In Cesare Ripa's Iconologia, a frequently reprinted and translated emblem book first published in 1531 - intended to assist the inspiration of poets, painters, and orators - there is an intriguing  portrayal of Art.

via

She is portrayed as a woman in a flowing green robe (according to the written description).  In her right hand she holds a hammer, a pencil, and a burin, three tools needed for the artist's imitation of nature. In her left hand she holds a stake supporting a climbing palnt.  The commentary explains that "the Stake supplies Nature's Defects, in holding up the tender plant".  The emblem expresses, therefore, a commonly held idea that art does not just copy nature but improves her.  A 'garden' (a plant guided and supported by a stake) symbolises this relationship.

I am no painter but, in a similar manner to my mother, perhaps, I do like to express my passion for horticulture but with threads and fabric.

A detail of this needlework bag.

Another trait I share with my mother is a love for detail.  Clearly I am not alone!  Renaissance gardeners and needleworkers liked nothing better than to cover the surface of their respective grounds with intricate patterns.  The ideal garden, like the ideal embroidery, wa a place where, as Thomas Campion put it in 1601, all was work and nowhere space:

And would you see my mistress' face
It is a flowery garden place
Where knots of beauties have such grace
That all is work and nowhere space

In gardening, as in decoration, the Renaissance objective was to improve nature or correct it: "t'excell the natural with made delights," as Edmund Spenser put it in 1579.  Embroiderers exaggerated the decorative qualities of plants by using gold or silver threads and even pearls and precious stones.  Elaborately embroidered costumes and decorative gardens were perfect complements for each other.  During open-air entertainments, silk, satin, and velvet costumes embroidered with a dazzling array of small flowers, leaves, birds, and insects must have shone as alluringly as the garden flowers themselves.

These cards, taken from a box set from the famous Parisian embroidery school Ecole Lesage, have detailed instructions on the back for each design.

Of course gardens have been brought into the home since Roman times - as wall paintings in Pompeii villas testify - until our present day.  Think eighteenth-century floral wallpaper or nineteenth-century William Moris textiles. It is a fascinating and extensive subject which I would be delighted to converse with you about for many hours!

I feel a little foolish to end this post with doll pictures but Angélique's third birthday (on Saint Angèle's Day, January 27th) brought a new friend to our home.  With the arrival of Violette (one of the famous French Corolle dolls) I found another of my childhood memories resurfacing alongside my mother's garden: a passion for making doll's clothes.  You may chuckle but this little lady, measuring 13" (33 cm), took France by storm when she became the famous Marie Claire Idées bimonthly magazine emblematic doll a few years ago.  She is the perfect model for doll's clothes!    

This little dress - a little garden inspired - was made with a French fabric which smacks of eighteenth-century textiles.  That little cap is so very Holly Hobbie, don't you think?

Of course this spring dress was made as part of Angélique's birthday present (she had a lovely birthday, thank you!) but, honestly speaking, it was just as much a gift for the child in me.  There will be more doll stitching too.  This outfit is only the beginning but I have visions of old-fashioned rather than modern clothes.

Now what about you?  How do you bring nature and gardens into your homes?  Do you prefer detail or simplicity? Both have their places, of course. And finally, please tell me, are there any more doll's clothes stitchers out there?

A bientôt,

Stephanie

ps I really must update my Gallery of Hares with, for example, my Mademoiselle Valentine, and I think it only fair that the next Mademoiselle available for purchase be shown on this blog at the same time as on Madame Millefeuilles!

pps If you are interested in reading matter and references in relation to the connection  made between gardening and art I would be more than happy to supply you with a few book titles.

ppps  Hello Gail! If you are reading this have you noticed that Violette is sitting on the fabric for Lili's hare's dress?

pppps All this talk of flowers and gardens makes me think I must change my header for something more springlike!