Dyeing drying

I let my freshly dyed yarn luxuriate in its cochineal soup for about 32 hours before rinsing it out and hanging it up to dry. For some reason, as I was doing that, I had this obnoxious reggaeton song stuck in my head, with 'gasolina' replaced by 'cochinilla' (as in 'A ella le gusta la cochinilla/ Da me mas cochinilla!/ Como le encanta la cochinilla/ Da me mas cochinilla!'). As Jane commented, cochineal is indeed the product of thousands upon thousands of dead beetles, making it a somewhat unethical choice for a vegetarian... Oh well, all in the name of elaborate procrastination historical research. In honour of its entomological origins, though, I hereby call this colour 'Beetlejuice'! It looks like it's going to be a deep rose, a colour lacking from my wardrobe.

But what to make with 874 yards of rose-tinted fingering weight yarn? I've been eyeing up Laura Chau's Honeybee Cardigan for a while; I especially like fernknits' pullover version. I am drawn to pullovers at the moment, possibly because of a buttonband 'mare which I'll tell you all about soon. 

I've been dyeing to tell you...

Yesterday was 20/10/2010, an appropriately momentous date for a hugely exciting couple of packages to arrive. 

Firstly, down at the bottom right of the photo collage, two skeins of superwash bluefaced Leicester yarn, creamy and naked and natural. I have never used bluefaced Leicester before; in the skein it feels crisper and possibly hardier than merino - I shall be curious to see what it's like to knit with.

Secondly, a selection of treats from DT Craft and Design: at the top left, sodium carbonate and alum, and at the bottom left, 10g of powdered cochineal.

I received the packages at lunchtime, and, without wishing to sound melodramatic, went straight home to dye. I was only slightly guilty about leaving the library: really this is not so much fun with fibre as a very serious and studious piece of research for my PhD, actually. I have been reading A Perfect Red by Amy Butler Greenfield, which is all about the quest for a vivid red dye in the early modern period, and the importing of cochineal by the Spanish conquistadors. Cochineal had been used in Mexico for centuries to dye all manner of things from cloth to food to prostitutes' teeth. It was eagerly received in Europe as an improvement on existing Old World dyestuffs: madder often yielded autumnal russets or oranges rather than true reds, and brazilwood and orchil gave impressive initial results that were disappointingly quick to fade. By the 1580s, the tiny black grains transported across the Atlantic by enterprising Spaniards had virtually eclipsed all these other options: as Butler Greenfield puts it,

The priest's red velvet chasuble, the dandy's red satin sleeves, the nobleman's red silken draperies and the countess's red brocade skirts - all were now coloured with cochineal.

In my kitchen, I felt like an apron-ed alchemist, mixing up potions, stirring in crystals, engaged in the mystical process of turning one thing into another thing. It was thrilling to feel practically connected to the early modern dyers I read about, and indeed the Aztecs, who used alum as a mordant and cochineal as a dye exactly as I did, though they did not order their supplies off of the internet, or use a microwave to practise their art. I followed the excellent leaflet included with dye, and have left my yarn to steep in the fabulously crimson dyebath. I'll be sure to update you on the progress of this first dyeing experiment of mine.

Actor's Nightmare; Knitter's Dream

I am in a play at the moment called The Actor's Nightmare (any Cambridge readers, do come to the Corpus Playroom at 7.30, tonight through Saturday). The script, by Christopher Durang, is admirably short and well-crafted, not least because it affords the knitting actress superb little pockets of time backstage to work on the above top-secret gift project.

I always look forward to stretches of knitting time, be they on public transport, snuggled up in my room listening to podcasts, or in freezing and fustily furnished green rooms. Where have you been snatching moments to craft recently? 

The adventures of Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of All Over the Place.

 

I have been working on the Elphaba Pullover (ravlink) in a whole variety of places: in early morning Stansted; on the steps of the Palazzo Ducale; in a youth hostel dorm; by the fountain in Piazza De Ferrari; in the very cool Caffè degli Specchi; in front of the spurious Christopher Columbus' house; by the columned cloister behind said house; on a plane (I was so pleased to sneak my Addis safely past security - the first time I've attempted to do so); and on the Cambridge Express. I enjoy knitting the memories of all these various locations into a project, though I am aware that these are not good photos of either the knitting, which as it grew became increasingly difficult to wedge into the shot, or the places - so to remedy this, here are a few more of my favourite photos from my recent trip to Genoa.

A small girl blowing bubbles by the fountain

A student demonstration on the steps of San Lorenzo cathedral

I found myself drawn to doorways...

... and niches.

Dog on a night bus.

Postcards from Italy

I'm on an extremely shaky internet connection in a youth hostel, but I couldn't resist the Beirut-inspired title of this post, and sharing a few snaps (sorry, I know I said I'd lay off the Hipstamatic, but I can't help myself!).

On the road again

I am heading off for a very brief spell in Genoa to do some much needed research. People often express envy that my PhD demands trips to Italy, but I tend to get unduly stressed out about these visits. I find research a rather lonely business at the best of times, and this anxiety is amplified when in an unfamiliar place where I am compelled to communicate in my second language. 

One thing that I do enjoy about the process, though, is the long stretches of knitting time it affords, while in transit, and as a substitute for social contact *self-pitying sniff*. This time I shall be turning the above purple perfection into Elphaba (pattern here on Ravelry, beautiful project photo here), a lightweight pullover inspired by the so-called Wicked Witch of the West... that might be why I said I was going for a spell in Genoa. Ahem. If I ever started dyeing yarn (which, incidentally, I have been thinking of experimenting with), one of my colours would definitely be 'Bad Pun Blush'. 

A little more Hipstamatizing...

Sleeve from Tealeaves Cardigan - more on that later!

Top Secret Gift Project!

I'm having such fun Hipstamatizing everything in sight that I've revived my dusty Flickr account, so if anyone's at all interested in these you can check out my stream here. I hope you're all having lovely Fridays.