During the zoom-meeting on Saturday evening for my online goldwork class 'Imperial Goldwork Course' we stumbled upon the sizing systems for metal threads. Some students from the US had trouble finding the correct sizes of purls mentioned in the PDF-handouts as they claimed that the sizing system in the US is different from that used in Europe. They mentioned that on the websites of Garibaldi's Needleworks and Berlin Embroidery the sizing would run in such a way that the higher the number the thicker the metal thread. This was opposite to my sizing system mentioned in the PDF-handouts. This was new to me. Immediately after class, I started to investigate. However, on the aforementioned websites, I found exactly the same measuring system as I was using. After a while, I realised what had happened. A quick email to the said students confirmed my suspicion. It was a stark reminder that, for somebody starting with goldwork embroidery, it can be a jungle out there! Let me clear the confusion.

In the first eight lessons of the Imperial Goldwork Course, we learn about the different forms of cutwork used in 19th-century goldwork embroidery. For cutwork you normally use: smooth purl, rough purl, wire check and bright check. These purls have a sizing system that runs from #4 (the wire with the largest diameter) to #10 (the wire with the smallest diameter). For the course we use the larger #6 and the smaller #8 as they are the two most commonly used sizes. An opposite sizing system is used for pearl purl. It runs from Very Fine (the wire with the smallest diameter) to #3 or #4 (the wire with the largest diameter) depending on the manufacturer. Said students had previously worked kits with pearl purl in them and logically assumed that the higher the number the fatter the metal thread.

One word of warning here: whilst the sizing system in the English-speaking world is the same for metal threads, the sizing system in the German-speaking world is different. Although I am based in Germany, my webshop uses the English sizing system as it is the most common system used by goldwork embroiderers. Oh, and the French system differs too :).

Another student mentioned that it would be a wonderful idea if I would measure the diameter of the purls the students need to use and then tell them that number instead of the sizing system commonly used. Although I mentioned that my gut feeling was that this would be rather cumbersome for a number of reasons (measuring accuracy would be difficult to maintain and all students would need high-speck calipers too), the said student was not convinced. What does every good teacher do? Investigate! Here we go.

As I have been an archaeozoologist for 15 years and measured 100-thousands of animal bones with scientific digital calipers, I still had several pairs laying around the house. The pair I used are made by Milomex Services in the UK. The measuring range is 0-150 mm with a resolution of 0.01 mm. Measuring accuracy is: 0-100 mm +/- 0.02 mm and 100-150 mm +/- 0.03 mm. This means that if you measure something that's between 0 and 100 mm the inaccuracy is +/- 0.02 mm and for something between 100-150 mm it is +/- 0.03 mm. As the smaller purls have tiny diametres, this measuring accuracy is potentially important.

Apart from the measuring inaccuracy innate to the calipers, there is the problem of the metal threads being rather soft compared to the tips of the caliper. It is therefore rather easy to squash your metal threads ever so slightly and getting a wrong (lower) diametre. To prevent the very pointy tips of the caliper to slide between the coils of the purls, I placed the purls between the broader parts of the caliper's tips (see picture above). To further try to minimise the measuring error caused by the relative softness of the metal threads, I took multiple readings of each wire sample and noted the average.

What were my findings? As my gut feeling told me and the measurements confirmed: samples from different manufacturers can differ. Even different samples from the same manufacturer can differ.

What are the sizes of the most common metal threads used according to my measurements?
- gilt or silver-plated bright check #6: 1.1 mm
- gilt or silver-plated rough purl #6: 0.9-1.1 mm
- gilt or silver-plated smooth purl #6: 0.9 mm
- gilt or silver wire check #6: 1.2-1.3 mm
- gilt or silver-plated bright check #8: 0.9-1.0 mm
- gilt or silver-plated rough purl #8: 0.7 mm
- gilt or silver-plated smooth purl #8: 0.7-0.8 mm

The results are discrete enough that it is possible to distinguish between #6 and #8 purls when you accurately measure their diametre. Can these measurements assist you when you want to buy goldwork supplies? Not so much. For instance, on the website of Berlin Embroidery you will find that the measurements are approximately:

- gilt or silver-plated bright check #6: 1.5 mm
- gilt or silver-plated rough purl #6: 1.5 mm
- gilt or silver-plated smooth purl #6: 1.5 mm
- gilt or silver wire check #6: 1.5 mm
- gilt or silver-plated bright check #8: 1.0 mm
- gilt or silver-plated rough purl #8: 1.0 mm
- gilt or silver-plated smooth purl #8: 1.0 mm

As Tanja Berlin and I use the same goldthread suppliers, her measurements should have been exactly the same as mine. Instead, they differ (she probably used a ruler to measure the purls). As a beginning goldwork embroiderer, what would you have bought from for instance Berlin Embroidery when I would have told you that we are going to use a gilt smooth purl with a diameter of 0.9 mm? You would probably have ordered a #8 from Tanja Berlin's website and then have ended up with a wire that could have had a diameter 0.2 mm smaller than I am using. This does not sound like much, but it makes a huge difference. By just ordering the #6 as stated in my PDF-handout you would have ended up with the correct thread. That's why we use the numbering system instead of accurately measuring the diameter of the threads. Besides, not all goldthread suppliers state the diameter nor do most teachers or books.

And as every good scientist should do, you can find the raw data in the document below.

Saturday night saw the start of my new online goldwork embroidery course. For the kick-off event, I was joined by 13 stitchers from the US, the UK, Belgium, the Netherlands and Germany. It was so nice to see both new faces and students from previous courses. The digital technology worked really well and everybody was able to interact with both me and the other students. For those of you who missed the live-event, below you will find the recording which is now up on YouTube. The next lesson will be this Saturday evening at 19h CET. If you would like to participate, click the appropriate button below. The accompanying PDF handout is now available from my webshop. You can start this course any time you like. See my previous blog post for further details. Hope to see many of you for another great Saturday night in with fun international company!

Today I am going to share some great news with you all! Rather fitting for Pentecost Monday, don't you think? I've decided to give online teaching a second try. And since I have acquired so many new readers in the past few weeks, I'd better explain my embroidery teaching credentials :). Prior to moving to Germany in 2014, I lead the, now unfortunately no longer existing, Royal School of Needlework satellite in Rotterdam, the Netherlands. Over the years, I have been privileged to teach for the National Silk Museum in Hangzhou (China), the Crewelwork Company (UK), the Alpine Experience (France) and ArtTextil Dachau (Germany). In addition, I have taught archaeozoology classes at my Alma Mater: the University of Groningen (Netherlands). Due to the current pandemic and the strict hygiene rules that come with it, I will be unable to teach embroidery in my Bavarian studio until at least the end of the year. Moving my embroidery teaching online seems only logical.

Since historical goldwork embroidery is my thing, I've decided to make that the topic of my new online embroidery course. Regularly diving into older literature for my embroidery research has unearthed a charming German book on goldwork embroidery: 'Die Kunst der Goldstickerei' by Amalie von Saint-George. Miss Amelie was a tutor at the Imperial School of Needlework in Vienna and published a book on goldwork embroidery techniques used in the late 19th-century in Central Europe. These differ quite a bit from how I was taught at the RSN in London.

How will this course work? I will be live-demonstrating during the Zoom meeting and this is followed by a Q & A with the course attendants. These meetings will be recorded and uploaded to my YouTube channel so that those in a 'less-than-perfect' time-zone can still benefit. If you want to attend the Zoom meeting, you will need to send me an email. In order to keep the hackers out, I will only let you into the meeting when I recognize your name from the email. I will announce upcoming Zoom meetings here on my blog, in my newsletter and on my Instagram feed. You should also download the accompanying PDF hand-out from my webshop. The hand-out details the materials needed and explains the lesson.

What will the course fee be? Do you know the principle of Caffe Sospeso? Whereby you pay for more than one cup of coffee in order for a less fortunate person to be able to enjoy a free coffee? I've decided to adopt a similar principle. Like many of you, I and my husband have lost part of our regular income due to the economic downturn. I therefore kindly ask that if you want to attend the course or part of the course, and you are financially able, you make a PayPal donation. The link will be in each PDF hand-out. In doing so, you not only support me by providing my income, but you also enable others who are in economic hardship to attend the course. Thank you!

When do we start? This coming Saturday 6-6-20 at 19:00h CET. Click the button below for the invitation link. Click the other button to download the free PDF hand-out so you'll know what we will be doing Saturday night.

Hope to see you this Saturday for the start of the Imperial Goldwork Course! And please leave your comments below as I am really excited for it to start and would love to know what you think!

P.S. this month's winners of the thread packs are: Patti Carlton for the existing subscribers and Judi Acre for the new subscribers. Congratulations! If you want to have a monthly chance of winning a thread pack in the colour of your choice, please subscribe to my newsletter. Both winners have been notified by email.

Last week's blog sparked a very interesting discussion on the use of the broche in goldwork embroidery. And since two more historical books on goldwork embroidery have arrived since, I thought I'll share the additional information in another blog post. But before we dive into the world of the broche again, I'd like to share another update on the DOVO-scissors with you. These scissors are now steadily arriving at embroiderer's homes in: the US, Canada, the UK, Belgium, the Philippines, New Zealand, Australia, Ireland, Switzerland and the Netherlands. My sales rep, Anne, is over the moon and has asked me if I could try to add some new types of scissors to my webshop. She suggested finely tipped and slightly curved embroidery scissors for left-handers and a lightweight pair of scissors for cutting fabric. Thank you so very much to all who have ordered these wonderful scissors in the past few weeks! You have helped secure the jobs of many highly-skilled craftsman and craftswomen. Let's hope DOVO will be able to restructure the business, save all jobs and continue to produce the best embroidery scissors in the world. If you like to help: you can order your pair here.

And now, let's explore the broche/brodse/Bretsche again!

Monica Dutting from the Netherlands reminded me that goldwork embroidery is very popular in the Arab world as well. When we started to look at pictures and videos of the stitching of the Kiswa (the goldwork embroidered covering of the Kaaba in Mecca) we saw that the embroiderers use a wooden broche as well. You can see their broche in action in the above video together with some pretty spectacular goldwork embroidery. Unless you are fluent in Arabic, you probably want to forward the video to 19:25.

If you look closely, you see that their broche is a rather simple piece of rectangular wood on which the gold- and silver threads are wrapped. At one end, the Arab broche has a groove. The metal thread is secured to this groove with a piece of white string or yarn and then wrapped onto the shaft. By the way, the metal threads used on the Kiswa are apparently produced in Germany. Now that's probably Austria, in Vienna, to be more precise :).

Annelies Englram from Germany commented on last week's blog post that she had been advised by an elderly master embroiderer from Germany that you do need to wrap the broche with perle in order to protect the goldthread. By now, I am pretty sure that this advice can be tracked down to Ms Dillmont's needlework encyclopedia. No other historical source (not associated with Ms Dillmont) I have been able to track down uses any kind of 'protection' with the broche. The simple piece of wood used in the video on the Kiswa is a stark reminder of this as well. Instead, I believe, as Ms Dillmont wrote her book to promote the use of DMC needlework products, that the use of the perle must be seen in that light. After all, DMC never sold 'real' goldthreads. In order to be able to include a chapter on goldwork embroidery in her book, she needed to make sure that she promoted DMC products as much as she could. And the advice Annelies was given shows that it worked.

In one respect, however, the advice Ms Dillmont gives, resembles that seen in the Kiswa video above: "The body and the lower part of the prongs are first covered with a double thread of DMC pearl cotton (Coton perle), yellow or grey, ending with a loop, to which the gold or silver thread to be wound on to the spindle is attached. The thread is usually wound double on to the spindle" (Dillmont 1945, 186-187). The embroiderers of the Kiswa also use a loop of thread to secure their metal threads in the groove of their broche. With the type of broche depicted in Ms Dillmont's needlework encyclopedia, this is, however, unnecessary as the metal thread itself can be looped and placed in the groove/prongs.

One of the new historical books that arrived last week was 'The Art of the Embroiderer' by Charles Germain de Saint-Aubin, originally published in 1770. And originally published in French, but luckily translated in English. De Saint-Aubin was embroiderer at the court of the French kings and he wrote down everything he knew about embroidery. And this is what he wrote about the broche: "A boxwood tool about six inches long with a triangular base to keep it from rolling around as it is used. One winds the gold or chenille for couching on the hollowed-out section of the spindle. One passes the end of the thread through the cut in its head while working so that one touches only the spindle and never the gold for fear of tarnishing it. One draws out the thread from the top end or the cut, as one uses it. After it is unwound several turns, it is then replaced in the cut which holds and keeps it firm while being used" (Saint-Aubin 1770/1983, 65).

Now, this is an interesting one: putting the thread end(s) through the groove at the top for more control. In the above YouTube video, I experiment with using the broche this way. It does work, but it comes at the disadvantage of touching the gold more, than when you don't use the broche this way. And after seeing the male embroiderers working with their broche in the Kiswa factory in Mecca, I don't think this has been the common way in which the medieval broche was used.

This is what De Saint-Aubin's broche looks like. And thanks to Jane Drummond from the UK for sending a clearer picture of the coat of arms of the Broderers Guild of London, this is the exact type of broche depicted in that coat of arms.

And last but not least, I managed to find another charming historical source: 'Die Kunst der Goldstickerei' by Amelie von Saint-George published in 1902. She was a tutor at the Kaiserlich-Königliche Fachschule für Kunststickerei in Vienna. Very well possible that this is the same embroidery school Ms Dillmont had been instructed at. Here we read: "... so spult man das Gold - gewöhnlich einen doppelt genommenen Faden - auf die Bretsche, das zum Sprengen nötige Werkzeug. Zur Schonung des Goldes wird sie vorher mit starken Seidenfäden dicht umwickelt" (Saint-George 1902, 13). This translates as: wrap the gold - usually taken double - onto the broche, which is a mandatory tool for couching. To protect the gold, wrap the broche with thick silk yarn first. Above you see a picture from this book with two broche in action. Interestingly, here we have the wrapping again and the threads spool from the groove. What could be behind this?

Remember, this book was published nearly a decade after Ms Dillmont's needlework encyclopedia. Ms Dillmont and Ms von Saint-George probably knew each other personally as they likely went to the same school. Ms Dillmont wraps with perle as this is a cheap and readily available DMC thread. Ms von Saint-George recommends silk as she writes in her introduction at length about the fact that goldembroidery is for the happy few (she tutored at the Imperial School of Needlework!). Silk is a far more expensive thread than perle. Ms von Saint-George clearly knew Ms Dillmont's needlework encyclopedia. She knew the wrapping advice. So when she wrote her book, she had drawings made that look rather similar to those in the needlework encyclopedia, but a little bit more realistic, I feel. I might be wrong, but as no other historical or contemporary source recommends the wrapping of the broche, this seems a logical deduction to me. Personally, I would not wrap my broche. Anyone working with passing threads will know that they have a tendency to snag on any type of yarn. Imagine wrapping your perfectly smooth broche with yarn and then wrap your snag-happy passing thread onto it ...

Please feel free to leave a comment below. I'll keep looking for more advice on using a broche. And maybe I can start a collection of different broche from all over the world past and present:).

P.S. Did you like this blog article? Did you learn something new? When yes, then please consider making a small donation. Visiting museums and doing research inevitably costs money. Supporting me and my research is much appreciated ❤!

Literature
Dillmont, Th. de (1945). Encyclopedia of Needlework, revised edition. Mulhouse: Th. de Dillmont.
Saint-Aubin, C. G. de (1770/1983). The art of the embroiderer. Translated and annotated by Nikki Scheuer. Los Angeles: Country Museum of Art.
Saint-George, A. von (1902). Die Kunst der Goldstickerei nebst einer Anleitung zur Verwendung der Goldstickerei in Verbindung mit Applikation. Wien: Wiener Mode.

Before we dive into the meaning of the strange words above this blog post, I would like to thank you again for supporting the scissor makers at DOVO by ordering so many embroidery scissors! Never before have I sent out so many pairs of scissors to embroiderers in the US, Canada, the UK, Belgium, Australia, Ireland and the Netherlands. I have been in frequent contact with my sales rep at DOVO to put in orders for yet more scissors. She is absolutely delighted with the support we, as an embroidery community, have been able to drum up. People like Jane of the Chilly Hollow Needlepoint blog have shared my plea for support. Thank you so very much! And for those of you who would like to support the people at DOVO too so that they can restructure the business, save jobs and continue to produce the best embroidery scissors in the world: you can order your pair here. More scissors are on their way, including a special edition for left-handers!

And now, let's explore the broche/brodse/Bretsche ...

A couple of years ago, the above wooden tool arrived in the mail. It was sent by Nuria Picos, fellow RSN-student who had gone on studying with the famous goldembroidery masters in her native Spain. Luckily, Nuria had taken the trouble to include a step-by-step instruction on how to use this particular tool as I had never seen it before. At the RSN, we didn't use fancy spools like this to wrap our goldthreads on. At best, you were given a piece of rolled-up felt wrapped in tissue paper. It works. But this works so much better! At the time, this wooden tool was simply called a spool for goldthreads. It protects your precious threads from oxidation by touching them too much with your hands. The spool also prevents them from tangling. It wasn't until I started to read older instruction books on goldwork embroidery, that I came across the proper name of this type of spool: broche (French/English), brodse (Dutch) and Bretsche (German). You can tell from the spelling that they all have a common origin.

The brodse is an old tool. In the 1970s, a complete wooden brodse was found during an excavation in Dordrecht, the Netherlands. The piece measures 18,2 x 1,6 cm and dates to the third quarter of the 14th-century. It is held under inventory number F 6395 at the Boijmans van Beuningen museum in Rotterdam, the Netherlands. And it shows the same characteristics as my modern-day Spanish brodse: two prongs at one end, a long shaft and some embellishment that prevents the spool from rolling off your frame. Although I am an archaeologist who has dug medieval deposits, I would not have known what the above object was used for prior to becoming a goldembroiderer. Let alone if I would have found an incomplete one. I suspect many of my colleagues have the same problem. I've contacted wood-expert Silke Lange to see if she knows of any other examples. So far, her search has not turned up any more brodse. However, I'll keep you posted if she comes up with any.

How do we know that the wooden object found in Dordrecht was really used in embroidery? Well, we do have a picture. The above drawing shows Sara Marrel sitting at a table on which rests her embroidery frame (weighed down!) and on which lies a brodse. The drawing was made in 1658 (about 300 years younger than the brodse from Dordrecht) by Johann Andreas Graff (husband of Maria Sibylla Merian, famous scientific illustrator) in Frankfurt am Main (Germany). I just wished the drawing was a bit more detailed when it comes to how the goldthread is wrapped around the brodse!

We know that the above-shown objects were named brodse in Dutch from the embroiderers guild regulations from Utrecht written down in 1610: 'Gelijck oock niemandt sich sal mogen vervorderen op de Raempte off mette Brodse, eenich werck te maken, ten sij hij off zij het Gildt voldaen hebben, op poene van telcken maendt te verbeuren een daelder' (De Bodt 1987, 4). It means that nobody is allowed to make any piece on an embroidery frame or with a brodse when they don't pay the embroiderers guild. The Worshipful Company of Broderers still displays two crossed brodse in their coat of arms.

As said before, you do encounter the brodse in older literature. But not in all. It is notably absent from M. Louis de Farcy's 'La broderie du XIe siecle jusqu'a nos jours' written in 1890 in France. But that other famous embroidery institution from France, Ms Therese de Dillmont (who actually was Austrian ...), does mention the Bretsche in her famous 'Encyclopedia of Needlework' from the DMC library, first published in 1886. The original German text from the 'neue, vermehrte und verbesserte Auflage' from 1925 reads: 'Die Spindel auch Bretsche genannt, ist aus hartem Holz gearbeitet und ungefähr 23 Zentimeter lang. Sie dient zum Aufwinden des Metallfadens. Der Holzstab, sowie die Gabel sind mit doppellaufendem DMC Perlgarn (Coton perle) in hellgelber Farbe zu umwinden. Der Goldfaden ist dann an die Schlinge zu Knüpfen und um den unter der Gabel befindlichen runden Stab zu winden. Der Stickfaden ist ein- oder mehrfach, meistens zweifach auf die Spindel zu winden' (Dillmont 1925, 189). In the English translation it reads like this: 'The spindle is an instrument made of hard wood, about 9 inches long, on which the metal threads are wound and with which they are guided while the work is in progress, so that they need not be touched by the hands. The body and the lower part of the prongs are first covered with a double thread of DMC pearl cotton (Coton perle), yellow or grey, ending with a loop, to which the gold or silver thread to be wound on to the spindle is attached. The thread is usually wound double on to the spindle' (Dillmont 1945, 186-187).

Those of you who can read both languages will have noticed that there are marked differences in what they say. No wonder. This book has been revised many times. The most noticeable differences are that the German text has the original name for the wooden spool 'Bretsche' whereas the English text only mentions spindle. But the English text mentions why the spool is used (so as not to touch the metal thread) and this is not mentioned in the German text. But this is not what puzzles me most. Has any of you understood the part on the actual wrapping of the spool? Not even the drawing published in both editions of the book is much help to me. It does not make sense. Why would you wrap the spool first with the perle? Passing thread would happily snag on it :). I think Ms Dillmont has never used a Bretsche or seen it being used. The tool had probably become rare by the time she did her apprenticeship in 1873 in Vienna. This would also explain why De Farcy does not mention the tool in his book although he does cite Ms Dillmont frequently on other embroidery matters.

Luckily, we have other sources! The above drawing comes from a Dutch embroidery instruction manual written in 1910. Here the thread is wound around the shaft of the 'houten rol waaromheen de goud- of zilverdraad gewonden wordt' (Van Emstede-Winkler 1910, 84). This translates as: wooden reel on which the gold- or silver thread is wrapped. The drawing completely ignores the prongs. Again, one gets the impression the tool was no longer standard practice in goldwork embroidery when Mrs van Emstede wrote her manual.

And last but not least, I found the above picture in a German source from 1913. Here it reads: 'Unentbehrlich für jede Art der Goldstickerei ist ... die Sprenggabel oder Bretsche ... (Donner & Schnebel 1913, 406). And further: 'Der ganz feine Metallfaden wird 2, seltener 4 fach, über die Bretsche glatt gewickelt' (Donner & Schnebel 1913, 419). This translates as 'essential for any type of goldembroidery ... is the broche ...' and 'the very fine metal thread is wrapped double, less often four times, flat onto the broche'. And luckily for us, they also provide a picture of the tool in action:

Now this makes complete sense! The embroiderer works on an embroidery frame with the left hand under the frame (with the needle) and the right hand on top of the frame holding the Bretsche (and a stiletto). Can you see how a single metal thread runs through the pronged bit before it is wrapped onto the shaft of the Bretsche? That's how Nuria instructed me to load up my Spanish goldwork spool. I've made a FlossTube video so you can see me do it in 3D. The writers of this excellent manual used or had seen the Bretsche being used. No hear-say, but actual experience.

At the moment, my local master craftsman the woodturner is making a new batch of broche/brodse/Bretsche. They will be ready in about two weeks and will cost around €55. Make sure you subscribe to my newsletter and you will get notified when they are available from my webshop. Cross your fingers and toes that at least some planes are flying by then so I can actually ship this wonderful tool outside the EU as well!

P.S. Did you like this blog article? Did you learn something new? When yes, then please consider making a small donation. Visiting museums and doing research inevitably costs money. Supporting me and my research is much appreciated ❤!

Literature
Bodt, S. de (1987). ... op de Raempte off mette Brodse ... Nederlands borduurwerk uit de zeventiende eeuw. Haarlem: Brecht.
Dillmont, Th. de (1925). Encyklopaedie der weiblichen Handarbeiten. Mulhouse: Th. de Dillmont.
Dillmont, Th. de (1945). Encyclopedia of Needlework, revised edition. Mulhouse: Th. de Dillmont.
Donner, M. & C. Schnebel (1913). Ich kann handarbeiten. Illustriertes Hausbuch für die Techniken der weiblichen Handarbeit. Berlin: Ullstein.
Emstede-Winkler, I. van (1910). De technieken van kunstnaaldwerk. Amsterdam: Van Looy.

Today I am going to share some more medieval eye-candy with you. This time we are going to explore some of the goldwork embroideries made in France during the 13th-15th centuries. Particularly Paris enjoyed a boom in embroidery during the 13th-14th centuries as the royal court resided there. Written guild regulations from 1292-1295 and 1316 suggest that female embroiderers were the norm and that the apprenticeship lasted eight years. However, the embroiderers attached to the King and the princes have names such as Robert de Varennes or Sandre Lappert. So was the situation in medieval Paris really so different from that in the Low Countries? I doubt it. Prestigious commissions from the French King and his princes were likely given to male embroiderers.

The first piece I would like to draw your attention to is a mitre worn by the abbot of the ancient abbey of Sixt, Upper-Savoy. The very fine silk- and gold embroidery is executed on white silk (either samite or serge) backed by linen. The silk embroidery is executed in split stitch and stem stitch. The goldwork embroidery is all done in couching. Although the embroidery was executed by embroiderers from Paris, the drawings were likely made by Jean le Noir, a famous illuminator who had a daughter, called Bourgot, who assisted him. I particularly like how the wings of the angel are placed so that they fit the sloping side of the mitre just perfectly.

Another piece that blew my mind was the mitre created for Sainte-Chapelle around 1375-1390. There's so much going on on this relatively small object. And the scenes are adorable. Look at the ox and the ass. They make me smile :). The amount of padding on this piece is rather incredible too. And I just love the tiny seed pearls. It makes it all looks so over the top, yet so coordinated. The treatment of the garments is quite different from the usual or nue or pattern couching seen on so many of these pieces. Instead, the different parts (folds) of the garments are created by laying separate strands pairs of passing thread in different directions. The folds are accented with couched dark brown silk. Very clever indeed.

The last pieces of embroidery I would like to draw your attention to are known as the embroidered cycle of the legend of Saint Martin. This impressive, but incomplete, collection of embroidered orphreys was made for a single altar in a church or chapel. They thus show the medieval opulence when it comes to liturgical vestments. Due to the fact that these pieces were created at the court of Rene of Anjou (1409-1480) we know the painter of some of the designs: Barthelemy d'Eyck and the embroiderer who executed them: Pierre du Billant. It probably helped that both men were related.

The embroidered orphreys are now dispersed over four museums in Paris, Lyon, Baltimore and New York. Their original layout has been lost due to more modern up-cycling. Have a look at the very fine silk shading on the drapery of the clothing on some of the figures (there's definitely more than one embroiderer at work as there are marked differences in quality between the orphreys). The brightness of the colours after nearly 600 years is simply incredible!

I hope you liked seeing some more of the temporary exhibition at Musee Cluny in Paris! If you would like to try your hand at recreating your own medieval orphrey with diaper couching and or nue, then I am pleased to tell you that I have a few kits left for sale from the Crewelwork Company needlework retreat in Stratford upon Avon. Go to my webshop to secure your kit!

Literature
Descatoire, C., 2019. L'art en broderie au moyen age. Musee de Cluny. ISBN: 978-2-7118-7428-6 .

P.S. Did you like this blog article? Did you learn something new? When yes, then please consider making a small donation. Visiting museums and doing research inevitably costs money. Supporting me and my research is much appreciated ❤!

At the beginning of January, I and my husband were lucky enough to be able to visit the embroidery exhibition in Paris. Today I'll show you some stunning pieces from the Opus Anglicanum section. The term for this type of embroidery from the 12th-14th centuries translates as 'work from England' and usually consists of very fine silken split stitches and underside couching. It was greatly valued throughout Europe especially, but not solely, for religious purposes. Therefore, you will find these stunning pieces of embroidery in museums all over Europe. But beware: not all Opus Anglicanum embroidery was actually made in England or by English hands. Medieval Europe was already so well connected that both ideas and people travelled a lot.

The graves of bishops are a great place to search for medieval embroidery. Bishops were usually laid to rest in their finery in a grave with better preservational conditions than Joe Average. Antiquarians from the 19th century knew that too and when these graves were opened for whatever reason, they brought their scissors along. This is illustrated for instance on a pair of liturgical sandals from a grave from the Cathedral of Saint-Front in Perigueux: three different museums own pieces of the same pair of sandals.

Today, many museum visitors turn their noses up when they see these brownish fragments of textile. They are mostly not 'pretty' in the usual sense. But I was very pleased to see that Musee de Cluny devoted a whole display case to these extraordinary finds. For obvious reasons, the levels of lighting were lower than in the rest of the exhibition so my pictures are sometimes a little dark. Nevertheless, look at these stunning patterns of birds and scrolling in very fine underside couching!

Another stunning piece of embroidery on display was the above panel with the martyrdoms of the saints. There is a second panel too with female saints. Both are kept in different museums in Belgium but originate from the same church in Namur, Belgium. It was in use as an altar frontal but might have originally been a vestment. The embroidery on this piece is absolutely immaculate and very fine. I particularly love the different goldwork couching patterns in the background and the immense detail on the horse. Although only the above panel was on display in Paris, both panels were displayed at the Opus Anglicanum exhibition in the Victoria & Albert Museum in London a few years ago.

One of the biggest pieces of embroidery on display were the fragments of a horse trapper (a protective garment for a horse in battle or tournament). It was unfortunately impossible to capture all (over 20, many quite small) fragments in one picture. The detail of the goldwork embroidery is amazing. The lion's mane and hairy claws are so full of movement through laying the goldthreads in different directions. In amongst the bodies of the lions are many small human figures in courtly dress. They clearly show how to embroider on such a difficult fabric as velvet: cover it with a thin piece of silk. When the embroidery is finished, cut the excess silk away.

Although this piece of embroidery comes under Opus Anglicanum it does not show any underside couching and only small areas of split stitch (the silken parts of the claws). Instead, the goldwork is all 'normal' couching and the small figures and the foliage are stitched in running stitch (hence you can see the silk that was used to keep the hairs of the velvet at bay when stitching). It is said that in using these two embroidery methods the actual embroidery would take much less time then when split stitch and underside couching were used. I agree when it comes to the split stitch versus the running stitch. The latter is much quicker as it covers more ground with fewer stitches. However, I am not so sure that normal couching is that much quicker than underside couching. I now practice both and the only marked difference for me is that underside couching is harder on your body due to the slight extra force you need to apply with every stitch.

By the way, these fragments have an interesting 'upcycling' story to them. The horse trapper was probably originally made for King Edward III. He was a guest at the Reichstag (Imperial Diet) at Koblenz, Germany, in AD 1338. The horse trapper probably remained in Germany as a royal gift. It was turned into a set of vestments for the Altenberg Abbey. These were dismantled in 1939 to once more show the original horse trapper.

There were many more beautiful pieces on display in this part of the exhibition. For those of you who were not able to visit in person, I can highly recommend the exhibition catalogue. It is packed full with good quality pictures and many close-ups. More on my textile adventures in Paris in further blog posts!

Please note: there won't be a blog post next week as I am away teaching for the Crewelwork Company. Stay tuned as I will name the next two winners of a thread pack in the first blog post after my return!

Literature
Browne, C., G. Davies & M.A. Michael (eds.), 2016. English medieval embroidery Opus Anglicanum. Yale University Press. ISBN: 978-0-300-22200-5.
Descatoire, C., 2019. L'art en broderie au moyen age. Musee de Cluny. ISBN: 978-2-7118-7428-6 .
Michael, M. (ed.), 2016. The age of Opus Anglicanum (= Studies in English medieval embroidery 1), Harvey Miller Publishers. ISBN: 978-1-909400-41-2.

P.S. Did you like this blog article? Did you learn something new? When yes, then please consider making a small donation. Visiting museums and doing research inevitably costs money. Supporting me and my research is much appreciated ❤!

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This is the last article in the series accompanying the conference 'Über Stoff und Stein' in Munich. The other three articles can be found here: part I, part II and part III. For my last goldwork embroidery sample, I choose a letter from the Sternenmantel of Holy Roman Emperor Henry II held at Bamberg. You can read about my visit to the museum where it is housed here. As one of the conference organisers, Dr. Tanja Kohwagner-Nikolai, is also head of the research team for the embroideries held at the Diocesan Museum in Bamberg, I was able to ask very specific questions about the embroidery. I was even given a high-resolution picture of the particular letter (for obvious copyright reasons, I can't publish that picture here). Join me in my musings on recreating part of a very elaborate 'R' from a stunning piece of embroidery that's a 1000-years old.

The original goldwork embroidery was worked on a dark purple samite. This is a specific twill-type weave for silk fabric which was popular in the Middle Ages. I only once had a small piece in my hand which was found during an archaeological excavation in the medieval parts of Emden in northern Germany. Samite is hard to get hold of nowadays. Czech-based company Sartor recreates historical samites for the re-enactment scene. Fortunately for my purse, they don't have a dark purple one in stock. Instead, I had a look in my fabric stash and came up with a paisley patterned silk damask.

Next up was transferring the pattern. The drawing of the 'R' is very intricate and can only be transferred onto the fabric once simplified. I made a pricking of the simplified drawing and used white pounce powder for the transfer. The white dots were then connected with watered-down watercolour Raw Siena (see video above). As the drawing is so intricate, I did my utmost best to keep the paint lines as fine as possible. NB: From the high-resolution picture I could tell that the letter is 9.5 cm tall. As I worked with my original pictures and some crude maths, my copy is about a centimetre taller.

The Sternenmantel has undergone major alterations since it was first stitched around AD 1020. The first major re-make took place in the 15th century when the gold embroideries were cut out from the old mantle and appliqued onto the blue silk damask we see today. The thick red and white embroidered lines along the edges of the lettering date to this re-make. The original lettering looked indeed very different.

The goldthread used for the lettering is a kind of very fine passing thread. The strips of gold foil wrapped around the silk core are less than half a millimetre wide and have a near pure gold content. In comparison, most ordinary gilt goldthreads used today have a gold content of 0.3% -2%. There are about 46 goldthreads per centimetre and this makes each goldthread around 0.21 mm. This is comparable to a modern-day Stech vergoldet CS 70/80 or a smooth passing #3. The goldthread is couched down as a single thread with red silk yarn. I've used DeVere Yarns Carmine #666. There is no regular couching pattern.

Although the high-resolution picture is much better than my original pictures, I still am unable to tell if the tails of the goldthreads are plunged and tied back on the reverse of the fabric or if the ends are simply cut off and secured with an extra couching stitch. It is highly likely that the answers lie beneath the thick white and red contour lines which were added in the 15th century when the goldwork was taken off the original mantle (or mantles) and appliqued onto this 'new' one. I was also told by the head of the research team that the restoration in the 20th century now makes it impossible to inspect the reverse of the embroidery. This is very unfortunate indeed, but also shows the great strides made in textile conservation since then. In my reconstruction, I did not plunge my ends in accordance with the later Gothic embroideries from the Low Countries where there was no plunging either. I know that this is a long stretch both in time and area. However, the goldthread used is so pure that it would have been far too costly to waste any of it on the back.

During the conference, I had a lovely discussion with both Tanja and Dr. Holger Kempkens on who made the Sternenmantel and the other magnificent goldwork embroideries held at the Diocesan Museum Bamberg. We readily agreed that it was not noblewomen or nuns, but men in professional workshops. Probably travelling with the highly mobile imperial court. And with connections to both the Western world and the Islamic world. Modern-day professional commercial goldwork embroidery is often executed by men (for instance the cover for the Kaaba in Mecca). The first mentions in the historical records of women doing goldwork embroidery either as creators or repairers are from the 17th century in this part of the world (the situation is different in England).

And then there is the embroidery itself. The couching on the lettering is done in a very specific way. Although the couching stitches are placed randomly, the goldthread is by no means laid randomly. The embroiderer made sure that this very precious thread was laid down in the most economic way with as little starts and stops as possible. This is easy to do on the straight parts, but far less easy on the 'knotty' bits. Although I stared long and hard at the picture, I found out halfway through the actual stitching that I had it wrong. In comparison, my husband needed very little time to figure out the correct 'path'. Now please don't get me wrong or accuse me of sexism, but there are things in life MOST men can do better than women and vice versa. Not ALL men or ALL women. And this is not to say that there aren't women out there that can do this job perfectly. But I get the feeling that this particular embroidery job suits men better than women. Please don't hate me.

Demonstrating historical goldwork embroidery techniques to the conference delegates was very enjoyable. They were tremendously interested and had lots of questions. It is so important to get both 'head' people and 'hands' people in the same room talking to one another. Tanja's idea of doing just that for this conference was brilliant and I certainly hope that it will get copied like mad by others.

Literature
Baumgärtel-Fleischmann, R. 1983. Diözesanmuseum Bamberg ausgewählte Kunstwerke, Bayerische Verlagsanstalt Bamberg. ISBN 3-87052-380-8.
Kohwagner-Nikolai, T., S. Ruß & U. Drewello, 2016. Goldgestickte Vergangenheitsinszenierung, Restauro 5, pp. 48-53.
Kohwagner-Nikolai, T., 2014. O Decus Europae Cesar Heinrice? Die Saumumschrift des sogennanten Bamberger Sternenmantels Kaiser Heinrichs II., Archiv für Diplomatik, Schriftgeschichte, Siegel- und Wappenkunde 60, pp. 135-1646.

P.S. Did you like this blog article? Did you learn something new? When yes, then please consider making a small donation. Visiting museums and doing research inevitably costs money. Supporting me and my research is much appreciated ❤!

P.P.S. My effort to raise money for the relief fund of the Australian Red Cross in the aftermath of the bushfires amounted to € 80. I've decided to up that to € 100 and this has now been donated. Mabel Reedijk won the embroidered coaster. Congratulations and a huge thank you to Anja Deijl, Jackie Ayres and my parents who also generously donated!

Today we are going to have a look at two more modern examples of lettering in goldwork embroidery. One can be found on the burial shroud of a princess from Romania and the other is part of a dedication on an orthodox podea or icon cover. They were both part of a temporary exhibition on Romanian embroidery in the Louvre Museum last summer. You can read all about that trip here. In recreating these samples, I had to use common padded goldwork embroidery techniques I am no longer very familiar with. And I made a rookie mistake. Read on so you'll learn from that mistake. I for my part have made a big yellow mental post-it :).

First up is the burial shroud of Maria of Mangup, second wife of Prince Stephen the Great of Moldavia. The shroud measures 191 x 103 cm and shows Maria laying in her tomb. She is richly dressed in Ottoman clothing and adorned with precious jewellery. The embroidery is executed with silver and gilt threads as well as coloured silks on red silk fabric. Maria likely died on the 19th of December AD 1477 and is buried at Putna monastery in Romania. The church Slavonic text surrounding the depiction of Maria is written in Cyrillic lettering. The four corners show monograms and double-headed eagles in order to point to Maria's family links with the Byzantine empire.

For the epigraphy conference 'Über Stoff und Stein' in Munich next week, I decided to recreate Maria's first name. The embroidery technique used for the lettering seems to be gimped couching over string padding. This means that passing thread is laid over the padding and secured on both sides of the padding with a small couching stitch. The passing thread is folded forwards and backwards over the string padding until all of the padding is covered. Think of it as a satin stitch over padding, but without going through the fabric with the passing thread.

Although I know I should have used linen string padding to be historically correct, but I was unable to find some. If anyone knows of a good source, I am all ears! First, I tried soft string padding as it is easier to manipulate. However, when applying the passing thread they would shift and sit on top of each other as the padding was just not firm enough (see on the letter M in the picture above). Then I used white string and that was much better. I also noticed that the widened ends of the letters had less height than the 'body' of the letters. This made me think that the embroiderers must have untwisted the padding thread they were using in order to create this effect.

The hardest thing with this lettering sample is the joints and the widening at the ends. For what I can see in the original, the embroiderers fudged until it looked pleasing enough. I have used Stech vergoldet 80/90 CS which is comparable to passing thread #4 and DeVere yarns silk Hessian #18267 for my couching thread. Not bad for a first attempt, but certainly not as smooth as the original :). This has likely to do with the modern passing thread having slightly different properties than the original thread used. And I do apologize for the cat hairs visible in the picture; Sammie cat is poorly and clings to me a lot!

The youngest sample I included is this magnificent podea or icon cover made in AD 1681. The amount of Greek lettering in cutwork embroidery is unbelievable. The podea measures 120 x 99 cm and shows in the centre the monastery church it has been intended for and the donors: Serban Cantacuzino and his family. Although this particular embroidery piece sits just outside the time frame of the conference (Middle Ages until AD 1650), I included it as it makes use of different materials and a different technique: cutwork over string padding using gilt bright check.

For my recreation, I choose the top Greek word to the left of the Madonna with Child medallion. Unfortunately, I can't make out what it says. The first letter seems to be an Iota, then maybe a Pi, then a Lambda it seems, another Pi maybe, then maybe a Tau and then a Ny. This part of the dedication does not seem to be covered in the exhibition catalogue.

The lettering on the podea is simple cutwork over string padding. How hard can that be? Very hard when you are me. I absolutely detest cutwork. Not being able to see the world in 3-D, means that cutting purl to the required length is nearly impossible. Why did I still do it? Every so often one of my dear students WANTS to do cutwork. In order to be at least able to explain the technique well, I do need to practice every once in a while. So off I went with putting in the soft string padding. That was a little fiddly with all the tiny bits on some of the letters. But once all the padding was applied, the word still looked rather good. That was not to last.

Although I had remembered to place my padding within the design lines of the lettering, it was by no means enough to prevent the above catastrophe happening. The padding on the original piece is quite high, but clearly much narrower than mine. Once I applied the bright check #8, it all went pear-shaped. Not helped by the fact that the size of the original bright check is smaller than a #8 (sizes #9 and #10 do exist, but are not commonly used and I don't have them in my stash). Why didn't I re-do the sample? Why should I? Due to my eye-condition, I can't do a good job. In addition, the conference delegates do get a good impression of how the cutwork technique works. And that's the main thing. I also felt even more admiration for the embroider of the original podea: Master Gherasim de Galata (his name suggests he was from modern-day Istanbul). He must have had a lot of practice to make the tremendous amount of lettering look so regular. Master Gherasim would never have employed me in his workshop :).

Literature
Durand, J. & E. Cernea, 2019. Broderies de tradition Byzantine en Roumanie du XVe au XVIIe Siecle. Musee du Louvre. ISBN 978-2-902302-02-4.

P.S. Did you like this blog article? Did you learn something new? When yes, then please consider making a small donation. Visiting museums and doing research inevitably costs money. Supporting me and my research is much appreciated ❤!

From 12-14 February, the Bavarian Academy of Sciences will host the 15th international conference on medieval and early modern epigraphy. They have asked me to demonstrate the various ways in which lettering can be represented in goldwork embroidery during this long period. I've decided to concentrate my efforts on five different historical pieces: 1) the Sternenmantel of Henry II Holy Roman Emperor, dating to AD 1010-20, 2) the Bamberger Antependium from AD 1300, 3) the Vice cope from AD 1350-75, 4) the funeral pall of Maria of Mangup AD 1477 and 5) a podea (icon cover) donated by Serban Cantacuzino in AD 1671. I have seen all these pieces in the past couple of years and taken my own pictures. However, determining how the lettering was stitched, proved to be difficult. In order to keep a log of my findings and to teach you a thing or two about goldwork embroidery, I am going to write four blog posts on this project.

First up is preparation. Apart from the Bamberger Antependium, all these goldwork letters were stitched on very luxurious silk fabric. So I dressed my slate frame with Zweigart Bergen linen and kept the tension a bit slack. Then I applied pieces of my silk fabrics using herringbone stitch. It is important to orientate the fabric pieces on the grain of the linen fabric. Once the pieces are applied, the frame is stretched to drum taut. In the two short videos above, you'll see slack on the left and drum taut on the right.

I'd like my lettering to be as close to the originals as possible. The first thing to do is to determine how large the lettering in question is. Lighting in the textile department of the Bayrische Nationalmuseum is rather poor and I had to take all of my pictures under an angle. Not suitable. Luckily, I found a perfect picture in a book. It had the whole height of the Antependium on there and since I knew that height in centimetres, basic math led me to an approximation of their size. The word Baltasar measures about 25 cm from B to S. Since the goldwork was stitched directly onto the linen, I used a pencil and a lightbox for the transfer. The original transfer was probably done free-hand: look at the irregular spacing between the individual letters and the irregular shape of the three As.

Next up I tried to determine the size of the gold threads used. Without actually measuring them, this is a rather wild guess. Since the piece is quite old, the gold thread used is probably very fine. But from my memory, it was not as fine as what I recently saw in Bamberg. So I originally went for a gilt passing thread #3 (but had to later change to the even finer gilt Stech 50/60 CS as my edges became too round compared to the original). From the literature, I knew that couching in goldwork embroidery went from single thread to pairs of thread being couched down in one go, somewhere in the 12th century. Since the Bamberger Antependium was stitched around AD 1300, it could well be that this newer and faster method of couching down pairs of thread was employed. And I think the picture above proves this. From the literature, I knew that yellow silk was used for the couching stitches. I went with DeVere Yarns Chamoix #682.

One of the things I can't tell from my pictures nor is it mentioned in the literature: what happened to the tail of the goldthread? Was it plunged? Did they simply secure them on the surface and clip them close? The latter method is used in the orphreys from the 15th and 16th centuries, so I went with that.

The couching pattern used is not our now very common bricking pattern. Instead, it is a slanted line or slash. And since the ground fabric is linen, the couching process becomes a counted thread embroidery technique. I opted for five fabric threads between each couching stitch.

As stated above, I did stitch the first letter twice as I couldn't copy the sharp turns of the original with the ticker thread. The way the letter is shaped also meant that I had to start and stop my goldthreads several times as just bending them would not have accommodated the shape of the letter. Once I was happy with how my R turned out, I needed to stitch a black silken outline around it. As all of the silk embroidery in this piece is done in stem stitch (yup, everything! Rows and rows of alternating stem stitch to fill every design element that's not filled with couched goldthreads), I used stem stitch for the outline too. I used four plies of black Chinese flat silk.

That's all for now! Next week I'll review my textile tour of Paris with Rebecca Devaney!

Literature
Durian-Ress, S., 1986. Meisterwerke mittelalterliche Textilkunst aus dem Bayrischen Nationalmuseum. Schnell & Steiner. ISBN 3-7954-0636-6.
Müller-Christensen, S. & M. Schuette, 1963. Das Stickereiwerk. Wasmuth. No ISBN.

P.S. Did you like this blog article? Did you learn something new? When yes, then please consider making a small donation. Visiting museums and doing research inevitably costs money. Supporting me and my research is much appreciated ❤!