American Schoolgirl Embroideries: Part II

I've been on a bit of a tangent lately, researching the background for a few embroideries that I viewed at the Lessons Learned:  American Schoolgirl Embroideries exhibit currently showing at the Baltimore Museum of Art through May.

Of the twenty embroideries on exhibit, many of them were silk and chenille with classical, biblical or literary themes, a common approach in schools at the time.

Last post, I went into some detail on the Queen of Sheba embroidery.  Today, I'd like to share another embroidery which drew my attention...

Caroline, the Heroine of Lichtfield, 1817
silk ground, silk embroidery threads, silk chenille, paint, cotton lining
Unites States, possibly Maryland, Easton

The embroidery depicts the heroine of an eighteenth century best-selling novel, Caroline of Lichtfield or Memoirs of a Prussian Family, originally published in French (1786) by author Isabelle de Montolieu, later translated into English by William Holcroft and published in Britain, and eventually released in the United States in 1798.

The story pre-dates Jane Austen, yet deals with a familiar plot line of a young heiress eventually deciding to marry a man she had previously thwarted due to facial deformity, recognizing his virtue as   his most attractive and marriageable feature.

The embroidery is framed by a wonderfully painted mat with cornucopias full of flowers...

And fruit...

And butterflies flitting about...

It is dated and signed at the bottom, "Julia Ann Thomas's work" with the date 1817...

With the name Easton also included.  Easton happens to be a small town on the Eastern shore of Maryland where a woman named Julia Ann Thomas was known to have taught at the Easton Female Academy.

Elements of the design and stitching however are characteristic of the styles from the Moravian schools in Pennsylvania and North Carolina but no record of a Julia Ann Thomas has been found.

As I studied the pictures I had taken, I began to wonder about the main character of the embroidery, Caroline of Lichtfield (not Litchfield in England, but Licthfield, a fictitious Prussian estate); sitting at the edge of a lake, book set aside and lost in thought...

With mountains painted in the background...

And an anthropomorphic representation of her dog by her side...

It was this adorable rendering of Caroline's faithful companion that led me to start researching the story to find if this little guy had a name and why a young woman in 1817 would find the story worthy of memorializing in embroidery.  The text is available but quite expensive.  Luckily, I found this hardcover version on Amazon with a great deal of the novel available for preview.

I had to stop reading in order to write this so I still have not found any more information about the dog but I have learned that Mary Wollstonecraft read and admired the book calling it the 'prettiest thing she had ever read' and Jane Austen also read it and called it 'beautiful'.

From what I have read so far, it is a novel with a young and naive heroine, raised on a country estate, far from the sophistication of court and ready to marry a Prince Charming.  The "prince" suitor proposed by her father is hardly dashing and young but rather an older man with a facial deformity and an Ambassador to Petersburg...

What ensues is melodrama surrounding two suitors, one young, handsome and ardent; the other is older, wiser and of tested virtue.  You get the gist.  Thanks to Jane Austen, we know the type of story quite well even though Ms. Austen published some twenty years or so after this novel was written.

From what I can tell, it was the chick lit of the day and it was widely read and very popular.  The embroidery itself is as charming as the novel and I am grateful to Ms. Thomas for introducing me to Caroline.

Another embroidery that caught my eye was also inspired by popular literature of the day, in this case, James Thomson's epic poem, The Seasons (1730).  James Thomson was Scottish and one of the leading poets in 18th century literature; primarily known for The Seasons, a four-part poetic work about nature and its cyclical transformations.

The work was very popular and inspired mezzotints like the one by Laurie and Whittle (1794) entitled Spring...

It was the illustration above that provided the inspiration for the embroidery titled Spring below, embroidered by Maria Antoinette Dorsey, possibly in the Moravian Seminary for girls at Lititz or Bethlehem.

Spring, 1825-1830.  Stitched by Maria Antoinette Dorsey
silk ground, silk embroidery threads, watercolor, linen lining
United States, possibly Pennsylvania

Glare from overhead lights made pictures of this work nearly impossible.  In comparing the illustration with the embroidery, did you notice that the man was excluded from the needled version?

Now why do you think that was?

Speaking of women, did you happen to read this article in the Wall Street Journal reviewing Women After All by Melvin Connor, a professor of Anthropology at Emory University?  It was a triumph for women, IMHO, largely due to the fact that both the review and the book were written by men.  Check it out.  It's worth your time.

Happy Monday.  Happy Spring.

American Schoolgirl Embroideries: Part I

A week or so ago I had the pleasure of attending Lessons Learned: American Schoolgirl Embroideries at the Baltimore Museum of Art; an exhibition of samplers and silk embroideries made by American girls from schools in Maryland and the East Coast in the 18th and 19th centuries.

Detail from the Queen of Sheba embroidery, 1819, Baltimore Museum of Art

With just over 20 pieces, the exhibition has significant breadth, including works that were not only varied in subject matter but used a wide-range of materials as well.   There were quite a number of silk embroideries, many of which included metal and hand-painting.  If you live nearby, it runs through May 2015 and is well worth the trip.  Admission to the museum and exhibition is free of charge.

There was one embroidery that just knocked my socks off and it was quite large (approx. 3'x5');  a rendering of the Queen of Sheba's visit to King Solomon...

Queen of Sheba, 1819, Baltimore Museum of Art.
Embroiderer:  M.B. (American, dates unknown) at Ann Elizabeth Gebler Folwell's School, United States, Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.  Silk ground; silk chenille, silk and wool embroidery threads; metallic purl and sequins; glass beads and gems; paint.  

I did a little research on the Queen of Sheba tale since I was curious as to why a girl or her teacher might have chosen this subject to embroider.

I didn't really know too much about the story other than that it appears in the Old Testament.   Depending on which version you consult, the short narrative goes something like this:

And when the Queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon concerning the name of the LORD, she came to prove him with hard questions. And she came to Jerusalem with a very great train, with camels that bore spices, and very much gold, and precious stones: and when she was come to Solomon, she communed with him of all that was in her heart. And King Solomon gave unto the Queen of Sheba all her desire, whatsoever she asked, beside that which Solomon gave her of his royal bounty. So she turned and went to her own country, she and her servants.(I Kings 10 v.1-13)

The historical popularity of the tale seems an enigma of sorts with various differences and meanings attributed to Jewish, Islamic, Christian and Ethiopian traditions.

Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, Giovanni Demin, 1789-1859

It does seem that Sheba came from the ancient area of Saba which is modern-day Yemen; Sheba is thought to have been Ethiopian (That would make her skin brown which is not how she is portrayed in the examples set forth here today.  hmmm.).  In Christian tradition, some say that the tale presaged the adoration of Christ since Sheba brought to Solomon the same gifts as the Magi.

I didn't find any solid answers but I think if I were a young girl, I might be attracted to stitching the tale because of all the references to gold, gems and royalty.  After all, she got to use gold threads, glass "gems", beads, silk and chenille to stitch her picture.



In the 18th and 19th century, even girls of modest means were taught sewing and simple embroidery stitches on samplers.  Families that could afford it could pay an additional fee over and above the cost of academics for their daughters to receive advanced needlework instruction at boarding or day schools.  After completing their coursework, girls would return home with an elaborate sampler or elegant picture to present to their parents as proof of their accomplishment.  

This Queen of Sheba scene was drawn by Ann Elizabeth Gebler Folwell's husband, Samuel, who was a professional artist.  After his death, their son Godfrey, painted the faces, sky and other details.

One Jewish version of the story says that the Queen mistook the shiny marble floor as a pool of water and lifted her dress, showing off her legs.  Evidently she was reprimanded, not for the immodest display of her gams but for the fact that they were overly hairy.

I checked the embroidery to perhaps find some proof of this...

But alas, found none.

The plush, silk chenille carpet beneath the Queen's feet...



Contrasted beautifully with the flat silk embroidery of the black and white tile...

The lions resting at the foot of the stairs are wonderfully wrought with their padded paws, bushy eyebrows, and manes of chenille.  

Even the stairs were opulent with goldwork swirls amidst lines of clear glass beads...

This is the first piece I've seen that contained so much chenille thread.  It must have come on huge spools for use at the school.  The chenille threads were much finer than any that I have found commercially available today.

Note the use of the chenille thread in stitching the column below...

Changing the direction of the stitches changes the way that the light reflects off the thread which gives the column its dimension.

Despite the allure of all the Queen's riches, my favorite part of the embroidery is this urn which stand atop the trompe l'oeil marble column...



Something about the muted roses, the hint of blue and the dust green garland set against the silver gray of the urn...

Manifests a faded elegance worthy of a Queen.

(To be continued...)

Lucky Stitcher

Good luck!  

It's an almost automatic response when you encounter someone who is getting ready to take a test, perform a song, give a speech or attempt to complete three phases of Japanese Embroidery in order to graduate by October.

Wishing someone luck implies bestowing upon them all good forces that can be mustered from the cosmos to support them in their journey.  As if luck is just sprinkled down upon us like manna from heaven and success resulting from luck is accidental or the result of divine providence.

Conversely, the standard phrase used in Japanese culture when someone is facing a challenge has nothing to do with luck.

For the Japanese, the standard no-thinking-about-it reply is

ganbatte! or 頑張って！or　がんばって

Gonbatte comes from the verb form gonbaru (頑張る,　がんばる) which means to strive, to try one's best.

In other words, luck only comes through effort and working hard. 

At the end of embroidery class in Japan, my sensei would say: Gonbatte kudasai!

And the students would answer: gonbarimasu (がんばります) or  "I will work hard."

Today, I'm happy to take the luck of the Irish if it's being offered.

But I'll count on the wisdom of the Japanese and just plain get to work.

I've got class this Saturday and I'm trying to finish as much of the gold honeysuckle vine that I can by then.

Go n-éirí an t-ádh leat and gonbatte!

The Cherry Bomb!

Just a quick progress report on my Sake Box -- Phase IX for Japanese Embroidery.

I've completed all those goldwork cherry blossoms and curlicues on the main round box.  Phew!

According to my Toggl timer, the goldwork on the lid only took me 31 hours. 

One of the reasons it may have taken so long was all the corners that have to be turned in each petal...

That plus sinking all the gold threads of those curlicues.  I'm so glad to have that section finished.  

I'm very fond of cherry blossoms and these versions in gold are the bomb!

After I finished the cherry bombs blossoms, I transferred the design for the honeysuckle vine on the ladle.  Yes, that rectangular shape is actually a sake ladle; the orange is the interior and the black is the outside.  It might all come clearer when I finish stitching the ladle's other components.  Then again, maybe not.

Today I'll begin couching the gold vine on top of the foundation...

I am hoping that the lack of corners in this goldwork will make it all flow more quickly.  

Thanks for stopping by to check on me.  Now I'm back to work.

Happy Day everyone.

Treasure Found in Pelican Bay

My father lives in a place called Pelican Bay in Naples, Florida...

So named for the pods of Brown Pelicans that fish and make their homes there...



When Pelican Bay was developed back in the 1970s, it was done with preservation and conservation in mind.  When many developers in the area had removed the tangles of mangroves that separated the public from the beach, Pelican Bay chose to preserve almost all of the its 500+ mangrove acres.



In the past Jim and I have visited at Easter time when Jack had his Spring break; a time when many children and grandchildren were visiting their families and the Pelican Bay beaches were fairly crowded.  This year Jim and I visited just last week...pre-Spring break crowds.

Or so we thought.

What we experienced was a very different type of beach crowd...

As far as the eye could see down the two miles of private beaches...were flocks and flocks of sea birds.

Most commonly, the Royal Tern with its tufted black crown...

And the Black Skimmer with its unique, uneven candy-corn bill...

The Black Skimmer is the only bird with an uneven bill which allows it to skim along, plowing the water with its lower mandible until the top snaps closed when contacting a fish.  They fish by feel not by sight.

Audubon's watercolor of the Black Skimmer, plate no. 323

The birds tend to forage in the very early morning so by the time we got to the beach, they were tired and resting as modeled by this group of sleepy sandpipers...

We tried to slip quietly by them in order to find our way to the wrack line...

A place where the sea has a daily message to deliver.

We are never sure what we are going to find there.  

And we've learned not to go with any expectations.  If you go looking for one thing in particular, then you just might miss the story that you were meant to see.

This year, calling cards from the seabirds were everywhere; feathers littering the beach and sticking out from piles of shells.

Feathers blown about, landing in the water, and washing back up onto shore...

Feathers sopped with sea and salt adding their own tale of abandonment to the vacated shell houses which shared the beach.

I scooped up a few handfuls of them...both the primary flight feathers and some of the secondaries.  

Having studied the pictures of them in flight, I thought for sure that I was collecting the feathers from the Black Skimmers...

When I got home and checked in my feather book, it turns out that the feathers were most likely from the Terns...

The Black Skimmer feathers are mostly deep gray to black.  Who knew?

Not everything that ends up in the wrack line is void of life.  

We found both the nine-armed sea star above and the brittle sea star below, tossing them back in case there was some life yet left in them.  Better safe than sorry but I fear the Brittle star was already dead.

The other common theme in the piles this year were barnacles.  

They had colonized on many of the bits of shells and seemed to be more prevalent than usual.

We even found two sand dollars and both of them had barnacle squatters attached...

So I collected those too and took it as a sign that I should finally read this book that I bought after my immersion into the barnacles of the tidepools of Maine.  

The book will be happy to hear that it's been promoted to the on-deck reading circle and is fourth in queue.

One of the most exciting sightings this trip was seeing a Roseate Spoonbill.  

It was resting at the edge of the mangroves in Clam Bay when Jim and I went for a walk...

Can't see it?  It's that speck of pink to the left.  Unfortunately, we only had a phone camera so that's as good as it gets.

I've only seen them three times in the 15 years we've been traveling to visit Dad.

Even though I didn't have a good picture to share, Mr. Audubon showed up at just the right moment.  

In last Friday's Wall Street Journal there was an article announcing "Audubon's Aviary: The Final Flight"; the third and final installment of the New York Historical Society's exploration of the 435 watercolors that Audubon executed for "The Birds of America", a series of engraved, hand-colored prints that appeared between 1827 and 1838. 

And there, right on the front page of the Weekend Arts II section was a picture of my pink-feathered friend á la Audubon...

Audubon's watercolor of the Roseate Spoonbill, plate no. 64

Come on!  You'd be excited too if you saw THAT!!  What a nonconformist creature of pink perfection.  I couldn't dream up that bird in a million years.  I was so glad to see it again.

When it was finally time for us to pack up our treasures and come home, my father asked...

"What the heck are you going to do with all those shells?"

I don't know just yet.  

But they are cleaned, sorted and waiting in a collection box...

For their next day in the sun.

Good Monday everyone.

[Note:  I've written about Pelican Bay before here, here, here, and here.    I also did an embroidery story called Found on the Beach that was inspired by the life and wonder of Pelican Bay.  You can read all those posts here.]