Monday, 17 June 2013

The Embroidery Work of Herta Koch

Illustration: Herta Koch. Troubadour embroidery design, 1913.

Herta Koch produced a range of textile work, much of it during the early years of the twentieth century. Her embroidery work was particularly innovative and vibrant with a preponderance of stylised flora and fauna. In many respects, her work can be likened to English Jacobean embroidery as well as the floral inspired traditional embroidery work of Central and Eastern Europe. This perhaps gives us some indication as to the breadth of inspiration that one creative individual can engender.

Koch tended to deal in overly large flora and fauna, which obviously gave the impression of vibrancy, colour and luxuriance. In the first illustration 'Troubadour' the two human figures are completely surrounded by oversized vegetation and bird life. Although the largest figures they do not seem to overly dominate the composition and it cannot perhaps be a coincidence that they have a more than tenuous link with the Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden story.

Illustration: Herta Koch. Embroidery design, 1912.

Koch's work is consistent in its use of nature as a main ingredient to her compositions and in the use of overly large and somewhat stylised motif work. The same can be seen in much of her printed textile work, an article at a later date will be posted on this subject. By drawing inspiration from a number of origins, Koch was able to meld them together in order to arrive at a point where she was producing individualised creative work that no longer felt as if directly representative of that origin, which is the path that all creative people follow.

It is always interesting to see a creative individual take observational starting points, and then to see those points become folded in on themselves, repositioned, even reimagined and then projected back on to their own contemporary audience as new and vibrant pieces of work. Creativity has so many of these lines of inspiration, no more so than in embroidery. Generation after generation produce new reference points of inspiration, many of which have been influenced by the work of previous generations. This ongoing procedure has an accumulative affect, whereby, as the generations pass by, compositional pieces can be seen more as a complexity of past ideas and technical skills, all overlapping, and indeed underlapping each other.

 Illustration: Herta Koch. Embroidery design, 1913.

It is rare, and you would have to conjecture, near impossible, for a creative individual not to be influenced on some level by those who went before them. It is in the nature of creativity to be generational, with each new generation adding something extra to the vocabulary of either singular or multi-disciplinary work. In some respects, without trying to sound too trite, the building up of the discipline of embroidery for example, is done by each individual at each generational level, producing one representative additional stitch at a time.

Work such as Koch's, which are lucky enough to be tagged with her name, as well as all of the countless unnamed embroideries produced over seemingly endless generations, which she would have used on an inspirational level, increase the availability of new inspirational points for our own generation. As we perhaps use her work as an available inspirational point, our own work will one day perhaps inspire future generations in which to use as available starting points for their own new and original work, and so it goes on.

 Illustration: Herta Koch. Embroidery design, 1913.

This is always, for me, the beauty of creative work. It can by all means stand on its own as a unique focused point of one person's individuality and their unique perspective on the world they inhabit. However, it can also be one point in a continuing journey of a discipline, and their work can be a flavour and reflection of all those individuals who went before them and perhaps a foretaste of all those that will follow. As a creative individual, you are the accumulation of an endless parade of trial and error, experimentation and perseverance, acute observation and sometimes sheer luck, that you can pass that accumulated history on to the next generation is perhaps the greatest gift of all.

Further reading links:

Thursday, 13 June 2013

Decorative Interpretations of the Medieval World

 Illustration: Italian decorative lettering, 14th century.

Medieval decorative lettering has always been a big inspirational draw for generations of designers and decorators. The colour and line produced in these often small-scale pieces of European medieval work are perfectly suited, by their natural tendency towards flat, graphic styling, to become inspirational tools, or at least starting points for many of the textile arts including, printed, tapestry and embroidery.

William Morris was a fan throughout his career and owned a number of volumes that had been procured from various sources, many from France. That he found them inspirational for their connection with the near legendary portrayal of the medieval world, as envisioned by the Victorian creative would seem obvious. However, Morris was also drawn to their often lively portrayal of flora and fauna, the connection between the swirling and undulating floral reliefs from these medieval sources can readily be found in his textile work, whether printed, woven, or embroidered.

Illustration: Italian decorative lettering, 14th century.

The medieval world was often considered by Morris and his contemporaries as being so much closer to the natural world of everyday flora and fauna, much more so it was felt, than their nineteenth century industrial ancestors. To our own contemporary world, which appears if anything, remote enough from the natural connections of the Victorian world, let alone the medieval, these medieval decorative illustrations may at times seem as if they are speaking to us from a very long narrow tube, with the medieval individual being a small distant speck of light, indistinct, but still tantalising.

To a large extent our viewpoint of the medieval world is very much coloured by the Victorian interpretation. Medieval European culture was viewed by the average Victorian through a prism that reimagined the culture as one of order as interpreted by the complex rules of chivalry, beautifully wan, but largely placid women, heroic and therefore proactive men, and beautifully clad interiors full of the best and brightest in medieval creative work. 

 Illustration: Italian decorative lettering, 14th century.

The viewpoint of past generations by the present, always says much more about the cultural and social standards of the present than it does anything about the past, very much a mirror onto the present. The Victorian medieval worldview of active men, silent women and a placid and a rigidly structured society, perhaps tells us about Victorian ideas of what they saw as being the norm, or perhaps more importantly, what they hoped should be the norm.

Our own interpretation of the medieval world seems very much coloured by an excessive, almost visceral love of violence and one which often portrays life as being anarchic, brutal, short and little else. That this contemporary reimagining of the medieval world should also be seen as a mirror of ourselves, is disturbing and will only probably be truly objectified by future generations.

As to the medieval world itself, in many respects it could be violent, brutal and short. It could be seen as uneven, unrepresentative of the majority, and rigidly suffocating. However, it was also a world of singing and dancing, of bawdy jokes and sex in all its forms, in fact a zest for life that reflected the very blunt shortness that life could take, through regular bouts of war, famine and disease. 

 Illustration: Italian decorative lettering, 14th century.

Much of medieval life was by no means urban, towns were rare, small and often harbingers of disease and social unrest. Most of the population lived rurally and therefore there was always a close connection with the natural world that would have been both around each community, but more importantly, entwined within it, with each community depending on its connections with nature for its survival. 

Seasons would have been vital as they would be for any agricultural-based community, and in that respect it was important to always be aware and conscious of the budding, flowering and dying away of the natural flora. These were signs and signals as to how the year was progressing, but also as to the potential value of the year, whether one of abundance or famine. Because life was often lived on a thin line between the two, the expression through decoration of the abundance of nature could perhaps be seen as one of wishful thinking on the one hand, or perhaps even pro-active superstition on the other.

Illustration: Italian decorative lettering, 14th century.

Whatever the trials and tribulations of Medieval life and its interpretation and reinterpretation over the intervening generations, it can be said that the decorative imagery handed down to us by our medieval ancestors, is one that passes on a genuine feeling of joy and zest for life in all its many forms. Decoration should be strident, vibrant, picking out the best of the world around us, allowing us to enjoy the complexity of colour, line and form that is such an enjoyable part of the natural world environment. It something our medieval ancestors clearly enjoyed and revelled in, can the same be said of us?

Further reading links: