Art aspires to extract sentiment, imagination, and pigments in Nature to reflect essential ideas and representations. Science aspires to extract alternative more objective rules about regularities in Nature. Our research is focusing on the many overlaps between art and science, and of interest here, natural dyes and chaos. Viewed from the standpoint of physics and complex systems, intricate patterns occupy an area someplace between repetitive fixed patterns, and chaos – if something is either too fixed, or alternatively too chaotic (Science), it can often be less inviting or stimulating to the viewer (Art). This area is sometimes termed “the edge of chaos”.
These ideas about pattern at the edge of chaos are illustrated, we believe, by the Japanese art of shibori with natural dyes, especially indigo due to its strong contrast and elegant hues. In this article, we will first describe the process for making artistic patterns with shibori. We will then describe in more detail just what is meant by “the edge of chaos”. We will then suggest that shibori, particularly with indigo, frequently exemplifies these ideas.
Shibori is a Japanese resist technique used in textiles, an artful and ancient form of dyeing. Different types of shibori result in different patterns. Four traditional categories of shibori are Kanoko (binding), Nui (stitching), Kumo (folding), and Arashi (wrapping). While one can predict to a certain degree what the final shapes will look like, it is impossible to reproduce two pieces of fabric exactly the same.
Shibori allows for a certain amount of refinement of pattern, but there will always be some asymmetry, and a strong element of wabi sabi -the acceptance of transience and imperfection. The impermanence of shibori is particularly notable when working with indigo, one of the most exquisite and unusual dyes within the natural dye world.
So what do we mean when we talk about shibori existing on the “edge of chaos”? Chaos as an idea has been part of science since the earliest Greek philosophers, although the mathematical descriptions are more recent, coming from careful analysis of solutions to non-linear equations in the late 19th century and came of special interest once computers were available for plotting those solutions. One particularly influential description of chaos is exemplified by Cellular Automata (CA) that comes from computer science, and can be understood without a strong mathematical background.
Imagine a line of square cells at one Time, which we are calling t. Each cell can be in either one of two states- white or black, as shown here:
At the next time step, t + 1, each cell might stay the same, or it might change states, depending on: it’s current state, the states of its immediate neighbors, and a defined set of rules. Many sets of rules that govern transitions can be imagined; one possible set of rules is shown graphically in the figure below.
The rules for transitions are as follow: (8) If the current state is white, and the immediate neighbors are also white, then it stays white at the next time step; (4) if the current state is white and the neighbor to the left is black while the neighbor to the right is white, then it turns black at the next time step. And so on. There are 8 such transition rules in our example, shown in the figure, with the target square flanked by its two neighbors at time t, then the target square just below at time t+1.
We can apply the rules in this example to an array that starts with just one black cell at time 0- shown in the top line. This black cell has both neighbors as white, so will transition to time 1 according to rule 6, and thus remains black. The immediate neighbors of this cell will transition according to rules 4 or 7, and thus also turn black. The other cells in the array are all white with white neighbors to either side, so they will remain white at the next time step (rule 8). As we go to time 2, there are now areas of white, then 3 black cells, then white. For this next time step rules, 1,2, and 5 will also be invoked, so with further time steps the Christmas-tree like structure of figure 9 will unfold. Of course different starting conditions or different rules will lead to different patterns in the resulting CA.
In the 1980’s Stephen Wolfram found that each combination of these rules unfolds to create patterns, all of which fall into one of 4 classes, as seen here:
Wolfram argues that there is a direct connection between the mathematical description of CAs to the description of phases in physical systems (such as ice, water, and steam.) In the picture the first two classes fall into uniform states (class I) or fixed and periodic patterns (class II), like ice. The third class of patterns (class III) is chaotic, like liquid water and steam. The fourth class (class IV), resembling ice forming on the surface of water, is the class of interest here. Systems in this class are said to be on the “edge of chaos”, and can form many different types of patterns. In fact, some rule sets can be proved to generate any pattern- this means that class IV exemplifies the full expressive potential of basic arithmetic, computers and, it has been argued, of life itself.
The following figures show these examples with natural dyes. Indigo as a solid, unmixed with water, occurs as a fixed pattern, analogous to ice (classes I and II). When the fabric is in the fully dissolved dye bath, the dye particles are in a chaotic arrangement, like a gas or liquid (class III).
Class IV patterns, at the edge of chaos, are shown in the following figures for indigo and again for a natural pomegranate dye bath. These intermediate stages produce rich and complex patterns that capture the eye of the artist and stimulate their imagination; to the scientist they resemble the type IV CA, and occupy an area someplace between fixed patterns and chaos.
As textile artists working with natural dyes, we often encounter examples of graded complexity- both with the textile images we produce, and also with the organic nature of the dyes themselves. For example, the dyed surface of the textile might be uniform (Class I) or manipulated in a repetitive fashion (Class II), be “textured” with no apparent regularity (Class III) or with a pattern that is neither uniform nor chaotic and apparently capable of transmitting information (Class IV). Below are examples of produced textiles demonstrating the different classes.
In our natural dye and textile practices, we can certainly create lovely pieces with uniform colors or exquisite repeating patterns. We suggest that there is also something stimulating, exciting even, when there is a dynamic balance between the two. This balance was apparently evident to the early practitioners of shibori in 1600’s Japan, “with shibori the dyer works in concert with the materials…to allow them full expression. And, an element of the unexpected is always present” (Wada). We can still exploit it today, and perhaps fall in love with it even more by appreciating how it brings together traditional arts, natural dyes, and the rules identified by modern mathematics and science.
Further reading:
Yoshiko I. Wada, Mary K. Rice and Jane Barton. 2011. Shibori: The Inventive Art of Japanese Shaped Resist Dyeing. Kodansha USA.
Arimatsu-Narumi Shibori: Celebrating 400 Years of Japanese Artisan Design. Dir. Andrew Galli. Perf. Hiroshi Murase and Yoshiko Iwamoto Wada. 2008. DVD.
Stephen Wolfram. 2002. A New Kind of Science. Wolfram Media. Champaign IL.
James Crutchfield. 2002. What Lies Between Order and Chaos? In: Art and Complexity, Casti, J. (ed), Oxford University Press. Oxford. Available online at http://tuvalu.santafe.edu/events/workshops/images/9/95/Crutchfield.order.and.chaos.pdf .
Amy Taylor is a textile artist specializing in natural dyes in Chicago, IL. Her work focuses on concepts of femininity, social mores, and transience in contemporary urban environments, placing an emphasis on technical and material detail. For more information on Amy’s work, please visit her website http://www.msamytaylor.com
Charles Taylor is a professor of Ecology and Evolutionary Biology at the University of Calfornia, Los Angeles. His current works focuses on understanding the grammar and meaning of bird songs. Exploring the larger meaning of this has led him to cooperate with artists Amy Taylor and Victoria Vesna (UCLA). More about this recent work can be found at http://www.birdsongdiamond.com/
In Autumn of 2020, Goli had seen my blog post about naturally dyeing fabric with kitchen extras, and thought it would be a great look for her upcoming silk robes. I love working with Goli, and I love naturally dyeing silk, so it was a very easy "Yes please!"
For our original robes, I used yellow onion skins, turmeric powder, and leftover coffee grounds as my dyestuff. The fabric dyed beautifully, and I had a blast working on this project.
One of Goli's brides saw our work, and reached out about customizing a set of robes for her bridal party. After some back and forth about style, color, and cost, I put together a few color samples.
Our bride chose a sample, perfect for her September wedding, that comprised of yellow onion skins, turmeric, used coffee grounds, and soda ash.
Soda ash is an alkali, so it shifts the pH of the turmeric and of the onion skins, giving us lovely burnt oranges, smooth café au lait browns, and soft periwinkle purples.
Now that I had a blueprint, I needed to source a HUGE amount of onion skins. For our original robes, it took 100 pounds of onions to give us 1 pound of onion skins. This project called for 50 yards of silk, which is more than three times as much fabric as the original robes, which means I needed more than three times as many onion skins. 300+ pounds are way more onions than I can possibly eat in a month, despite my best efforts.
I reached out to my community, and a friend connected me with Marcos Ascencio, an owner of Taqueria Chingón, a taqueria in Chicago that makes incredible tacos, salsas, and churros.
The team at Chingón absolutely lived up to their name. Marcos told me they go through about 100 pounds of onions a week, and they graciously saved and shared their food waste with me to use as a dye. With the help of Taqueria Chingón, Floriole Cafe, and individual onion eaters, I was able to collect 14 pounds of onion skins and scraps.
In order to dye 50 yards of silk, I needed to make the fabric portions a more manageable size, so Goli cut the fabric into 10 separate sections of 5 yards each.
I scoured the fabric in a solution of synthrapol and soda ash to prepare for mordanting and dyeing.
I then mordanted all of the fabric at once using potassium aluminum sulfate, aka alum.
The next day was showtime! One by one, I scattered the dyestuff on the pre-wetted silk. First the onion skins, followed by the coffee grounds, then the turmeric, and finally, the soda ash. Turmeric's reaction to the soda ash (an alkali) is instant, so the bundles took on a lurid alizarin hue.
I rolled each bundle, first like a snake, then like a cinnamon roll, to make the bundles as tight and compact as possible. You can watch the process at my tutorial for at-home bundle dyeing here.
Once I had all 50 yards prepped and rolled, I steamed the bundles for about an hour, then left them to sit overnight. The extra time allows the dye to more strongly bind and cure to the fabric.
The next day, I unrolled the fabric and shook out the dye material. Clean up was a lot, but it was definitely worth the effort. The initial color was so vibrant and bright, but we won't know the final results until the fabric is washed.
After washing the silk, I dried, ironed, and documented the final results.
No matter how many times I do this, I am always blown away by the beauty and intricacy of the final results. This fabric calls to mind Claude Monet and J.M.W Turner's watercolors.
I am so proud of this project, and I hope our bride loves it too.
If you're interested in custom-dyed robes for your wedding (or other group), let us know! You can reach me at amy@msamytaylor.com or Goli at hello@golijune.com
Thank you Taqueria Chingón, Floriole Bakery, and all of the individual onion eaters who shared your kitchen extras with me.
]]>I fill the black walnut pot with warm water, then put it on high heat. I let the pot cook for about an hour then remove it from the heat. I then leave the walnut solution to soak overnight in order to extract as much color as possible.
The next day, I remove the hulls from the stock solution and get to dyeing! For this project, I'm color testing raw silk, one of my absolute favorite fabrics to dye. Raw silk has such a beautiful feel, and the uneven texture bounces light in a way that showcases the depth, and range of natural color. The silk has already been pre-mordanted with alum.
The dye bath is a stunning nutty brown color and it smells so fresh. I cook my silk in the dye bath for about 40 minutes, but you can give it more or less time depending on your final color goals.
I love the rich, earthy brown that we get from black walnuts, and I can't wait to play with the rest of the batch in my freezer!
]]>In my earlier practice, I would let the pits dry whole. I’ve since updated my recipe, and now I like to smash up the pits in order to expose as much surface area as possible in the dye pot. I strongly recommend smashing the pits while fresh – they are much harder to break after they’ve dried.
To break apart the avocado pits, simply place them inside an old tea towel or wash cloth, and hit them hard with a hammer. Watch your fingers!
Once you have your avocado pieces, you’re ready to make your dye bath. Depending on how much fabric you want to dye, I recommend collecting the fragments from a few different pits. If you’re not using your pit pieces right away, I like to store them in the freezer to prevent them from getting moldy.
For this bath, I’ve used about 10 avocado pits.
In this article, I will be showcasing a piece I made using nui (stitched) shibori that I dyed using yellow onion skins, and modified with cream of tartar.
]]>In this article, I will be showcasing a piece I made using nui (stitched) shibori that I dyed using yellow onion skins, and modified with cream of tartar
To start, I’m mordanting a stunning handwoven silk scarf that I purchased from Maiwa Handprints. Maiwa is one of my favorite natural dye suppliers- their dyes and educational materials are some of the best I’ve worked with and I cannot recommend them highly enough. If you’re looking to experiment with natural dyes, then they are an invaluable resource.
After mordanting, I let my fabric dry completely so that I can make stitching as easy as possible. For nui shibori, a simple running stitch using a strong upholstery thread, along with a little bit of patience, is all I need.
For this design, I’m making a big circle in the center. I’ve long been drawn to circles and love to incorporate them into my artwork.
Once I’ve completed my handstitching, I pull the thread super taught and tie my knot tightly. The scrunching of the fabric creates a very strong resist. In order to keep my circle undyed, I’m covering it with a sheet of plastic from an old grocery bag that I cut up, then using the excess thread to bind it tightly. It’s important to make resists as tight as possible in order to prevent dye from seeping into the design.
Now my fabric is prepped and ready to dye! For this dye bath, I’m using yellow onion skins combined with cream of tartar to soften the color. On its own, yellow onion skins dye a deep, smoky yellow, so by adding the tartaric acid, the pH is modified to create a color much more similar to the creamy, coral-y, tan color of the onion skins themselves.
After cooking my fabric in the onion skin bath for about an hour, my silk is perfect! I let the fabric dry completely before unbinding in order to preserve the crispness of the shibori, and it came out even more beautiful than I had anticipated.
If you are interested in acquiring this scarf, you can purchase it from our site here
]]>Eco dyeing, also known as bundle dyeing, is a method to transfer pigment from botanical materials (e.g. flowers, barks, vegetable skins, etc.) directly onto fabric, creating one-of-a-kind colors and patterns on your textiles.
A wide variety of flowers, animals, and barks are used for natural dyes all over the world. Prior to 1856, when the first synthetic dye was discovered, natural dyes were the only method of getting color onto fabric. Natural dyes are unable to adhere to the fabric by themselves, so we use a mordant to allow the dye to “bite” the fabric.
Keep in mind, natural dye materials vary in color depending on regions, harvest seasons, and weather- part of its beauty is that no two dye batches will ever dye exactly the same.
Due to the current shelter-in-place rules, I’ve had to get creative with dyeing out of my home. Since I’m using dyes in my home cooking pots, it’s imperative that I am working with supplies that are food safe. Luckily there are a ton of natural dyes and modifiers that are easily found in my kitchen! In this project, I am using red onion skins, turmeric, used coffee grinds, and pericón flowers as my dyes, and cream of tartar as my modifier to make a gorgeous eco-dyed silk scarf.
To get started, I always mordant my pre-washed fabric. Because I’m using silk, a protein fiber, traditional alum is a perfect mordant. For this project, I’m cooking my fabric for about an hour to ensure a strong “bite” between the alum and silk.
Once my silk is prepped for dyeing, I’m scattering all of my kitchen goodies across the scarf. I personally love the impressionistic look of random placement, but intentional and thoughtful placement can also be totally gorgeous. One of my favorite things about natural dyes is that there really isn’t a wrong way to do it! Even when my pieces don’t come out how I expect them to, they are always beautiful and always worth my effort.
Once I have my dyes where I want them, my scarf is ready to bundle. This time I used a takeout chopstick to make my bundle extra tight, but if my scarf had been any bigger, it would have been fine to simply role it on itself.
I roll my fabric super tight around the chopstick and bind it to create as much contact as possible between the silk and the dyestuff.
I steam my bundle, then let it cure overnight. This allows the pigment to transfer directly from the botanicals to the silk.
Once my fabric has had time to cure, I unroll it and wash out any excess pigment.
And voila! I have a stunning eco dyed scarf using food extras I found in my kitchen.
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