Polly Leonard on the topic of craft
You have to be careful about craft.
My husband steps on the brakes and searches for a parking space; he has seen a handwritten sign ‘Craft Fair Today’ on the entrance to a church hall we pass on the road. I protest that although it is a nice thought not all craft is created equal. I love craft and of course would travel miles to find a gem.
The problem is the word Craft. It is just too general – encompassing everything from Alison Morton’s exquisite hand woven linen tea towels to something produced as a response to Kirstie Allsopp’s have-a-go manifesto, and everything in between.
Craft is skilled work and has nothing to do with design. In Japan an apprentice would spend years acquiring skills from a master. There is no expectation to create original work before the technique had been mastered to a level that might be achieved after ten thousand hours. Master craftsmen are in turn honoured by becoming a Living National Treasure.
In the West, particularly the UK, this idea is turned on its head – we teach students as young as fourteen to think creatively and develop an idea through to a conclusion, with the intention that they will pick up the necessary skills during their personal creative journey. To an extent this works. We have great creative minds. I am thinking of the likes of Ptolemy Mann, who as well as a virtuoso weaver is also a talented designer and has the ability to apply her creativity to a range of problems.
However, on a rudimentary level creativity is the easy bit. Almost anyone can make something, as the popularity of online craft marketplaces testifies. It is with sadness, though, that I note textiles suffer from the ‘design without skill’ scenario more than other disciplines; probably because the financial investment necessary to knit a scarf is less than that needed to say throw a pot. The problem with the lexicology is further complicated by the anonymous craftsmen who use their sophisticated skills to produce products whose design is either dictated by others or inherited from cultural history.
Of course, when craft is combined with design it becomes cool; in urban centres such as Shoreditch the keyboard has been replaced by the workbench to startling effect. New galleries re-present old crafts for a new affluent audience, and craft fairs fill every weekend. At its best craft is often quiet – it does not shout like design, and this partly accounts for its struggle. Take another look at Alison Morton’s tea towels. The Scandinavian aesthetic is not afraid of this silence and that is why they sit more comfortably with this genre.
So how do we categorise craft? I am struck by the low status of craft in schools as opposed to say music – this may provide the key. A student studying an instrument will have a one to one lesson each week, is expected to practice half an hour every day and is tested once a year. The Associate Board of the Royal School of Music has produced a system of grading that tests knowledge and skill in a specific discipline. Something similar for craft may provide a solution.
So to satisfy our curiosity we pay the entrance fee and cruise the stalls at the Craft Fair in search of that elusive gem.
Ptolemy Mann will be exhibiting at Selvedge's Artisan Fair
3 – 4 December
Chelsea Old Town Hall
Images featured: Alison Morton
The problem is the word Craft. It is just too general – encompassing everything from Alison Morton’s exquisite hand woven linen tea towels to something produced as a response to Kirstie Allsopp’s have-a-go manifesto, and everything in between.
Craft is skilled work and has nothing to do with design. In Japan an apprentice would spend years acquiring skills from a master. There is no expectation to create original work before the technique had been mastered to a level that might be achieved after ten thousand hours. Master craftsmen are in turn honoured by becoming a Living National Treasure.
In the West, particularly the UK, this idea is turned on its head – we teach students as young as fourteen to think creatively and develop an idea through to a conclusion, with the intention that they will pick up the necessary skills during their personal creative journey. To an extent this works. We have great creative minds. I am thinking of the likes of Ptolemy Mann, who as well as a virtuoso weaver is also a talented designer and has the ability to apply her creativity to a range of problems.
However, on a rudimentary level creativity is the easy bit. Almost anyone can make something, as the popularity of online craft marketplaces testifies. It is with sadness, though, that I note textiles suffer from the ‘design without skill’ scenario more than other disciplines; probably because the financial investment necessary to knit a scarf is less than that needed to say throw a pot. The problem with the lexicology is further complicated by the anonymous craftsmen who use their sophisticated skills to produce products whose design is either dictated by others or inherited from cultural history.
Of course, when craft is combined with design it becomes cool; in urban centres such as Shoreditch the keyboard has been replaced by the workbench to startling effect. New galleries re-present old crafts for a new affluent audience, and craft fairs fill every weekend. At its best craft is often quiet – it does not shout like design, and this partly accounts for its struggle. Take another look at Alison Morton’s tea towels. The Scandinavian aesthetic is not afraid of this silence and that is why they sit more comfortably with this genre.
So how do we categorise craft? I am struck by the low status of craft in schools as opposed to say music – this may provide the key. A student studying an instrument will have a one to one lesson each week, is expected to practice half an hour every day and is tested once a year. The Associate Board of the Royal School of Music has produced a system of grading that tests knowledge and skill in a specific discipline. Something similar for craft may provide a solution.
So to satisfy our curiosity we pay the entrance fee and cruise the stalls at the Craft Fair in search of that elusive gem.
Ptolemy Mann will be exhibiting at Selvedge's Artisan Fair
3 – 4 December
Chelsea Old Town Hall
Images featured: Alison Morton
14 comments
Great article.
I agree with Lizzie about design & craft working together. Good craft skills need good design to show them at their best. A good knowledge of basic design principles like line, shape, space, colour, is vital. Alison Morton’s tea-towels are a perfect example.
As usual, Polly raises interesting and vexing questions. The challenge of textile art is to use (overcome?) the highly variable constraints of the production method (knitting, weaving, embroidery, etc) to capture the desired design. A linear yarn transformed into art. The barriers are pushed back with increasing technical skills, so design, craft and understanding our purpose develop together.
PS: the latest issue of Selvedge, focusing on textiles from S America, blew me away! Totally inspiring.
I always try and speak of it as designer maker when I’m referring to work of the calibre of the aforementioned tea towels – my ex husband once set one on fire using it during cooking – he was unrepentant when I objected.
This down grading of craft runs across all disciplines and trying to resell exquisite jewellery no longer suitable to ones lifestyle so one can replace it with something that is is a complete trial. Auction houses like Bonhams are unbearably snotty about this. It’s a different story if they are selling a piece of work by the same jeweller that belonged to Elizabeth Taylor though.
Another problem is that many people who are very good at making things that one comes across at the random craft fairs often have no aesthetic sensibility whatsoever.
Long live good design.
Very interesting reading, especially as I have been learning to weave over the last couple of years. One point I have, my daughter is learning to play violin and is working through her grades, she also represents her school quite often, because this is not a sport it to is seen as a lesser gift, the school gives their musicians no accolades for what they do . We seem to have lost respect for so many things, craft included.
Very interesting reading, especially as I have been learning to weave over the last couple of years. One point I have, my daughter is learning to play violin and is working through her grades, she also represents her school quite often, because this is not a sport it to is seen as a lesser gift, the school gives their musicians no accolades for what they do . We seem to have lost respect for so many things, craft