sweet polka

Anna from Sweet Polka. Photo by Emma Byrnes

Photographing the folio pieces of Anna from Sweet Polka yesterday was delightful.

Anna's work is minimal and often has an almost child-like quality to it - pared-back, hand-touched, hand-carved, slow, from the heart. Neither overworked nor dominating.
Without any effort at all we identified the visual language for her work and then spent the day letting the story be told in a contemporary yet not overly-styled manner.
Now that we have a bank of images I am looking forward to working with Anna over the coming months on launching a new website and then hatching an exciting textiles project together later in the year. 

As well as a talent for design Anna is an excellent writer and has written a blog post about our day together.

a full life

Spending the afternoon at textile teacher/designer/maker David Pearce’s home is therapy for the soul.
I visit on an early spring afternoon and the light is soft and muted just like the beautiful blanket he is hand-knitting.
I’ve known David for 6 years now and I have always admired his gentle and considered manner - he never seems to rush anywhere or for anything. And this is the approach he takes with his textile work. In fact it can take him up to 15 hours to spin one 50 g ball of wool. 
David is wearing an exquisite coat that he made from scratch - it took him 4 years to make but as far as he is concerned that is time well spent:

“Spinning and creating the yarn itself is a slow meditative process that I really enjoy. I like creating something with the intention of it having a full life rather than something that is disposable. Most of the work I do is fashion oriented - I create wearable garments. But I wouldn’t say I am a fashion designer because I often think that the detriment of the fashion industry is its disposability whereas I make clothing - something that I will potentially have for a lifetime. I also like repairing garments rather than just throwing them away. The slow processes are the ones that I really love like hand weaving and producing a length of fabric on the loom. This is a coat that I started off where I spun the yarn, wove the fabric and then cut and sewed it into a garment. Tailoring was another skill that I learnt along the way - which again is a slow process and one that I haven’t fully mastered yet but I am working on it.”

“It all started with my grandmother. When I was 18 my sister wanted to learn how to knit. So we went to my grandmothers and she tried to teach my sister how to knit but she didn’t get it. However I picked up the needles and just started knitting. My grandmother had taught me how to knit when I was eight years old and at the time I didn’t get very far but it was in my subconscious when I returned to it ten years later.
Because my sister didn’t really get the hang of it I became her personal knitter. So I made her a scarf or two and then moved onto gloves and beanies - things with really simple shaping and then went from there. Soon I was making entire garments.
I moved to Melbourne and applied for a textile design diploma at RMIT. There were particular things in the course that I had never tried before like weaving and tapestry that I loved. I was more drawn to the structural textiles rather than print, preferring to construct the fabric itself rather than decorating it. One of the main objectives of the course was to learn how to be more efficient and to use technology but I kind of went in the opposite direction particularly when it came to knitting. Machine knitting is completely different from hand-knitting. It is a much more industrial way of producing the fabric. You get a similar result from both approaches but hand knitting is relaxing whereas machine knitting can be very stressful - if you do something wrong it can take hours to fix and it just doesn’t have the same meditative quality. When I used the knitting machines I started straining my neck and did a lot of physical damage…so I suppose in my creative practice I have gone for a quality of life and process over production.”

David will be one of my studio mates at Popcraft Studio which we move into before the year is out. I ask him what he is looking forward to in the new space.

“The studio is exciting as it will allow me to explore my creative practice on a much deeper level. My bedroom space is quite limited as a making space and looms can be quite sad objects when they are sitting around unloved gathering dust! Once I have everything set up I’ll get so much inspiration and go off on tangents, discover new techniques and then who knows where that will lead me. I have many years of experience teaching and will definitely be passing on my extensive knowledge in the form of knitting and crotchet master classes. When teaching I love it when I capture someone’s imagination. There are a number of people who I have taught to knit or crochet and then I see them months or years later and find out that they kept going and have continued their learning. It is really great when you can inspire someone and set them off on a trajectory.”

Spending my studio days with David is something I look forward to...not only to be in his quiet company more often but also to glean a whole host of new skills for my textiles arsenal. And did I mention the part about getting to eat more of his homemade toasted banana bread? 
Watch this space! 

Extra note: Our studio collective is running a Pozible campaign to kickstart our textiles master classes, artist’s residencies and emerging textile artist programs. Go find out more and make a pledge if any of this tickles your fancy!

Em x 

ticking boxes with a new studio

David piecing together patchwork panels for the vintage denim upholstery fabric we are making to cover our studio lounge. It is a humongous project and will be a super comfy piece to rest on once we are done.

My new studio has been in the pipeline for many months now and is slowly but very surely coming together. So many ideas that have been percolating away are now seeing the light of day and it is at this point that collaboration really begins to be exciting.

It is a beautiful work space and housed in a newly-built, light-filled, architecturally and purposefully designed complex - tick, tick, tick and tick! 
Plus it is a stone's throw from my front door (just a matter of riding along the bike path for a mere 5 minutes) with views over Merri Creek bushland to Ceres. With a new year's resolution to find a greater sense of self in my work this serene environment feels like it will mark an evolution in my personal creative practice. 

My studio buddies are Pauline Tran and David Pearce whom I admire very much as makers and innovators and so it is with great anticipation that we come together to see what bursts forth.
We have named it Pop Craft Studio (in honour of Pauline's amazing luxurious yarn business - Pop Craft that has been running for four years.)
Above and beyond our own personal creative work the intention with Pop Craft Studio is to serve as a point of exchange for Melbourne's creative textile community hosting textile master classes, with instruction from local and international experts; host an artist-in-residence program; establish an individual mentorship/business development scheme for emerging textile designers, and introduce Big Pop! - an irregular gallery space showcasing monumental fibre art works.  
And as a way to inspire creative dialogue, a monthly Friday Night Feast will also be held in the studio (or on the outdoor deck, when the seasons allow).

As a way to get all of this activity underway we have launched a Pozible campaign - I would love you to make a pledge if any or all of these ideas tick your boxes.

We are making a studio couch from vintage denim (work-in-progress pic above) so if you have any spare denim lying around that you would like to donate to the project let me know. You could even come and test the couch out once it is done. It is being designed especially with midday siestas in mind.

Em x

a sense of belonging

photograph by Emma Byrnes

I love small business. I have always been a keen observer…I watch and notice things. I pick up on nuances and energy. Not in a psychic kind of way but more of an intuitive thing. As a child I loved the feeling of belonging that I got from walking along the strip of shops in our neighbourhood…I knew all of the shop names, the shopkeepers and many of them knew my name too, or at least knew me by sight. I would note the handwritten signage in a shop window, the faded patina on a milk bar wall, the way the shelves were neatly or haphazardly arranged, the way a particular shop owner would shuffle from out the back when a customer set the front door bell off. All of these details delighted me and, to be honest, they still do.

From my early days I sensed the despondency of the workers stacking shelves at Franklins supermarket - sensations that were in stark contrast to the warmth and connection I felt at the local family-owned grocery store, even though their tasks were relatively similar. What was it about the family-owned business that made such a difference? 

From when I was 14 until I was 22 my mum owned a fabulous little continental-style coffee house, in Sydney. My sister and I would work there on weekends and it was such a beautiful place to be. It was a tiny shop stuffed full to the brim with the finest continental delicacies – quality chocolate, jams, biscuits, freshly roasted coffee, French pastries, Austrian strudels...the list goes on. A couple of kids would always stick their heads in the door on their way home from school just to take a whiff of the heady aroma of freshly ground coffee. Mum employed my calligraphy skills to write all of the shop signage – a job I absolutely loved and to which I would take my most meticulous penmanship. Over Easter and Xmas the shop would be filled to the brim with amazing German gingerbreads and papier mache decorations. Locals would always peer in through the shop window to see our festive display. It was like a miniature Myer window.

Working behind the counter as a young adult was a terrific way to gain a greater understanding of human complexity. No two customers were the same. I learnt to work around the trickier personalities and became friends with people of all ages. Maybe it is the sense of belonging and the way it gets in under your skin that can make small business so rewarding. If I close my eyes now I can still smell, see, hear, taste and feel that special space - crammed full with memories.
What it evokes for me still informs my creative and everyday pursuits and I am very thankful for that experience.  

Some special businesses that I really love and that foster grassroots connections are:

• Plump Organic Grocery - OK as a co-founder I am biased but Plump really is a special place that makes such a strong connection with the village that it operates in.
• The Flower Exchange - These guys pour all of their love into their very own rural vegie patch and flower garden during the week and then on thursdays bring the weekly harvest to Melbourne. My favourite aspect of their business is the Flower Exchange. They don't sell their flowers but instead have chosen to "create community, share abundance and make conversation instead" by exchanging their flowers for something other than money. This is so up my alley as I am very interested in the notion of alternative economic systems and the benefits they have to those involved. Am looking forward to signing up for my first posy very soon.

Em x

the lucky moment

Watching our children exploring in the rock pools is one of my greatest joys. It is the place I go to when I am asked to close my eyes and think of a happy place. 
Photograph by Emma Byrnes

I think in pictures.

I am constantly squinting at scenes before me, subconsciously applying the rule of thirds.

I started taking photos when I was 10. I was given a Kodak camera for xmas and immediately fell in love with the satisfying click and the sound as I manually advanced the film. As time passed I realised that taking photos allowed me as a shy person to be right up close to the action without having to play a central part. Participating but slightly removed, hiding behind the lens.

My sister became my main muse – she would dress up in her fineries and we’d venture into our garden – she would pick flowers, ride her bike, do handstands. I would savour the light, the colours, every movement, intensely watching, waiting for the right moment to commit to film. I was so keenly observing the dynamics at play, seeing which direction she was moving and when she would hit a particular light spot within a certain frame.

And then, with a sixth sense, even before it had arrived, I would see that special instant flash before me. It was so exhilarating when the timing was just right. The buzz I would get from the perfect capture in those days before digital photography. And the trepidation as I wound that unseen image on, poised for the next lucky moment.

Then the patient wait for the processing would begin…taking pot luck with my pocket money budget on these unknown masterpieces/failures…wondering if the pictures would come out just as I had seen them in my mind’s eye or whether they would be foggy or - as often happened in the early days - have a thumb sticking right over one corner.

When I was 12 years old I took photography classes every Saturday with a group of adults at the local arts centre. It was there that I first experienced the musty, funky magic of the darkroom and learnt the ins and outs of an SLR camera. Not only did this time consolidate my love for photography, it also gave me confidence as my images held their own alongside those of my older peers.

Over the ensuing years I continued to carry my camera with me almost everywhere I went and eventually studied photojournalism at Charles Sturt University.

Digital photography has arrived since then and despite my initial resistance I am now a complete convert. One of the main reasons I converted to digital is that as well as being a lover of photographic imagery I love sharing stories. Social media lets me paint a picture of what I see before me and develop a story around my sense of place. It’s what I did with Harvest Textiles. I have never worked primarily as a photographer but have always used it in my work life and private life to enhance my experiences and the way I interact with the world. At Harvest I was able to put my photography skills to very good use. I was constantly inspired by the colour and designers in our studio and I spent a lot of time documenting the daily activity and the people who came through the door, using our blog, flickr, instagram and website.

I’m excited about my new project, Heartland, because it will give me a chance to exercise my skills even further, through collaborations and projects. There are a few already in the pipeline, so do stay tuned and all will be revealed - in good time!

Em x

hello and goodbye and hello

Photograph by Emma Byrnes

It is 8 months since our third child was born. He is a beautiful gift. He has brought us so much joy and a much deeper perspective on what this big old journey is all about.

I’ve gone from leading a busy life running a successful textiles studio and keeping a household humming along with my husband and two children to a slower, more contemplative existence. But it’s just the kind of speed our newborn baby needs. 

I went on maternity leave from Harvest Textiles in mid 2013 and much has changed in that time. The studio is winding down and very soon will be closed for good. And it’s with mixed feelings – sadness and fondness – that I look back on the company I co-founded and imagine the next chapter. 

One of the best parts about Harvest Textiles was the creative journey it took me on, allowing me to indulge my love of visual storytelling, make with my hands, learn new skills and build a successful business we could all be proud of. But most of all, I’m grateful I met so many wonderful people along the way.

The Harvest concept – a textile studio that made products, ran workshops and hosted artists and events – was such a dynamic force and provided so many people with so much inspiration. For that reason it’s hard to finally say an official goodbye.

But that’s partly what I want to take with me into the future: a desire to do work that inspires people and promotes those creative connections we all love. And if I can continue to bring that energy into daily life with my family I’ll be one step closer to true satisfaction.

Which is why I created Heartland.

Heartland is a place for me to follow my intuition, make mistakes, challenge ideas and, above all, play. You might find the pace slow at first - with bubs in tow we’re all taking baby steps around these parts - but my inkling is that, like little ones everywhere, inspiration has a habit of starting off small and growing bigger and stronger with every square meal. I hope you can join me at the table and come along for the ride.

Em x