Selvedge Issue 129: Repeat PRE-ORDER
Selvedge Issue 129: Repeat PRE-ORDER
RELEASE DATE MID FEBRUARY.
PLEASE NOTE THAT ANY OTHER ITEMS ORDERED WITH THIS MAGAZINE WILL BE DISPATCHED WITH IT ONCE COPIES ARRIVE. IF YOU WOULD LIKE YOUR OTHER ITEMS SOONER, PLEAE PUT THEM IN A SEPARATE ORDER, THANKS!
In the opening episode of Game of Wool, Di Gilpin, one of the judges, is caught on camera proclaiming “every stitch counts.” Anyone who practices a handicraft will understand this sentiment and how a moment’s inattention can be glaringly obvious to a trained eye.
The overwhelming majority of textile techniques are built on the repetition of small gestures: stitches, loops, picks, and marks. When we concentrate on each one, something remarkable happens. Our minds quiet, and our everyday troubles are set aside. We are absorbed in the rhythm of the process for a while, and the craft becomes a form of meditation. Like music, it is not only the gestures themselves that matter, but the spaces between them. In print, this becomes negative space; in knitting, it is tension. It is the subtle interplay of movement and pause, gesture and spacing, that gives a handmade object its vitality, something industrial manufacture can never truly replicate.
In her article, Celia Pym lists a number of reasons why we should emphasise craft education: creative problem solving, resilience and self-discipline, connection to cultural heritage, increased self-esteem, as well as, the mental-health benefits of making. She also emphasises the simple joy that comes from the care and attention craft requires.
In this issue, we spotlight makers from around the world who focus on the power of repeated gesture, including Dahyeon Yoo from South Korea, London-based Sayan Chanda and Richard McVetis, alongside the duo Doyel Joshi and Neil Ghose Balser of HowAreYouFeeling Studio. Together, their work embodies the Aristotelian idea that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. The sense that an object can take on a life of its own emerges only when each gesture is given care, attention, and intention, allowing synergy to arise.
When making is undermined by external pressures of time and economics, this care is disrupted, and the process becomes strained, as depicted in the touring play Lacrima. So when you turn to your own form of craft meditation, remember the wisdom of Aesop’s fable of the Tortoise and the Hare: slow and steady wins the race, and every stitch truly does count.
