Painting with yarn: take up weaving and embrace both colour and the beauty of imperfection
The London Loom weaving and textile crafts studio at Hackney Downs Studios in the east of the capital is a wondrous sweetshop of yarns. The scrap heap in the corner beckons me to rummage through a cheering rainbow of wool, technicolour tinsel, cotton, mohair and macramé. There are maximalist, handmade wall hangings, tassels and geometric prints in abundance – but the materials are expensive and tactile, not tacky.
Wabi-sabi is the Japanese aesthetic that finds beauty in imperfection, and in all that is handmade and irregular
I’m here to try my hand at both a hand-held loom and a floor loom with founders Francesca Kletz and Brooke Dennis. They bubble with the same bright energy as their handmade creations, and have just published their first book, Weave This. It contains more than 30 projects for the modern weaver, including rya knot wall hangings, woven backpacks, rugs, tassel earrings, embellished jackets, cushions, lampshades and puja mats.
Tired of hosting craft parties with “rubbish” materials, the pair set out to introduce beginners to lovely equipment, tools and materials. “Craft is so often belittled,” explains Dennis. “We’d host hen parties where everyone would be drunk and wasting materials. It’s OK when you’re a child and you’re learning fine motor skills, but when you’re 25 and you’re getting married, sticking gems on a sash and then throwing it away is soul destroying.”
Conscious crafting, sustainability and a preference for natural materials define what they do. “Touching wool and cotton and learning how to knit and weave with it is a wonderful thing,” Kletz tells me. “You’ll love it more than you’ll ever love working with man-made materials. Acrylic is bad for your skin, it doesn’t behave properly, it’s not nice to touch and it squeaks like plastic – but it’s what beginners are always taught with.
“Most of our wools and cottons come from dead stock from mills. It’s not recycled, it’s not donated, and we still buy it, but it wouldn’t have been used otherwise. Of course, we still have some sparkly acrylic materials for Christmas and children’s parties, just to use as a highlight in a design. As long as we’ve got a full range of colours and fibres, that’s how we’d rather do it.
“We talk a lot about where things come from, why they cost so much, and why you should buy natural fibres. We need to talk about veganism and open the conversation: we feel that using wool products is ethical and sustainable, and better for the environment. Our decision to use wool is a conscious one.”
There’s freedom in Kletz and Dennis’s recommended practice of going with your intuition
As a first-time weaver, I’m surprised to discover how sensory and relaxing an experience a session on their hand-held looms (handcrafted by a carpenter in Walthamstow) can be. Even as a beginner, there’s freedom in Kletz and Dennis’s recommended practice of going with intuition rather than following measurements and patterns, and the licence to play with colour. “People are too scared of getting it wrong,” Dennis encourages me. “They don’t want to invest in things that don’t match. But we enjoy colour, and we see it makes people happy. Think of it as painting with yarn.”
That’s not to say I get the hang of weaving straight away: while Kletz and Dennis persuade me to go for the pinks and greens, oranges and blues to which I’m drawn, I weave the salvages – the threads running laterally from edge to edge – on my hand-held loom far too tightly, which gives away my amateurishness. But Dennis has some wise words on the matter, which I take to heart. “People expect to be perfect at it straight away, but it takes practice. You have to start somewhere.
“It’s infuriating when people are impatient: this is a space where you can be imperfect. Take a breath. You don’t want to start at the top – where do you go from there?”
Unwittingly, Dennis has brought to mind my latest lifestyle trend obsession (step to one side, hygge). Wabi-sabi is the Japanese aesthetic that finds beauty in imperfection, and in all that is handmade and irregular. With their clashing patterns, bright colours, cast offs and mismatched textures, Kletz and Dennis are right on the money. Last month, Richard Malone kicked off London Fashion Week with floor-length tassels woven from recycled plastic, and trousers made from recycled viscose.
Next, I have a bash at weaving on the Japanese wooden floor looms – a deeply relaxing, repetitive experience in which I zone out completely. I can absolutely understand the appeal of their group workshops: although sociable events, Kletz and Dennis assure me that after enjoying a glass of wine or a beer, attendees retreat into their own little creative world – with their playlist of choice in the background (Kletz is a fan of Barbra Streisand, and at children’s sessions the Moana soundtrack always goes down well.)
“For the first half an hour everyone’s really chatty – then for the next hour and a half they go completely quiet, time disappears and they’re all just in the moment,” says Kletz.
In their book, Kletz and Dennis are careful not to be too prescriptive. “We don’t recommend specific products or suppliers,” they explain. “Although we recommend spending money on great materials, weaving is still a great craft for beginners. You can make a hand-held loom yourself, and it doesn’t require investment in a sewing machine or a pottery wheel.”
Next up, the pair are preparing to host a freestyle embroidery workshop at The Royal Society of British Sculptors, and are teaming up with textile artist Elizabeth Pawle for a hessian hoop wall-hanging workshop. Looming marvellous.
Visit thelondonloom.com for more information. Weave This by Francesca Kletz and Brooke Dennis (Hardie Grant, £14.99) is available now
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