Macomber Looms and Me

1979 teaching weaving classes above the shop in York

Early 1980s at the Sunapee NH Crafts Fair - demonstrating the newest system ~ the Atari!

1980s leaning on the castle of a Macomber with the box covers for the jacks - the dobby system was air driven and could pinch fingers!

Traveling with my CP loom to teach all ages and abilities of weavers.

Since the 1970s I have had a wonderful relationship with the Hart family, Eddie Carbone and Macomber Looms. Beginning in 1979, I ran weaving classes out the upstairs of the shop – guiding and teaching all levels of weaving classes. I traveled with Rick and Eddie to several Convergences and other regional weaving gatherings.

This was taken in my Newmarket NH studio whereyou can see the Designers Delight keyboard attached to my loom.

I consulted with Macomber Looms as they grew into the electronic era– from the very first Designers Delight, to the Atari run program and then later the air assisted CAD/CAM system dobby systems.

I knew that there was no manual for these looms and that I had a vast knowledge of and access to much information about all things Macomber. So in 2009 I started a blog I cheekily called “Macomber Looms and Me”.  This blog was meant to serve as an information center for folks who use Macomber Looms as well as a newsy format for what I was doing in the studio.

 

As the blog posts grew, I added the capacity for folks to buy and download a PDF of the blog – which included all kinds of technical and some not so, information about Macomber Looms (an me).

And then it was time.

In 2016, I ended my sales and consulting relationship with Macomber and decided that the blog posts would much less frequent.

I still sell the PDF of the manual – and the blog gets a random post every now and then.

I continue to receive calls and queries from weavers with questions about their looms.

I love hearing from old friends, colleagues, former students and customers – reminding me the threads that connect us – those on our Macomber Looms!

 

Seriously? Reflections on Legacy

Is my math right?

Almost 55 years ago I discovered the art of weaving.

At this point in my life, it’s interesting to reflect on legacy - what did I do? Did I make an impact on another’s life or creative journey? Did my actions or my art change anything/anyone?

I’ve decided through a series of blog posts I’m going to reflect on and follow the thread of my creative career.

Age 20 Martha’s Vineyard

I was introduced to weaving at 19 (a college freshman) when a local weaver came and did a series of workshops at the college. Up to that point I was dabbling in whatever art form I came across: pottery, sculpture, painting, photography and printmaking. My greatest resource became this visiting weaver (Susan Rumsey) – an innovative and talented woman who had attended Cranbrook Academy of Art. I later became her apprentice and with her encouragement pursued a BFA in textiles at Rhode Island School of Design.  

Weaving answered questions that were elusive to me with painting, sculpture and printmaking. As a medium that is built with three dimensional lines (threads), weaving offered me a method to build texture, pattern and most importantly to manipulate color.

Because weaving is constructed of many threads that intersect and over lay each other, I found that I could create a surface of pixelated colors that mimicked the multidimensional color I saw in nature. The natural world around me has been my inspiration, my teacher and my solace for as long as I can remember.  With the language of threads and the structure of weaving I felt like I was finally able to bring what I felt and saw in nature into my art.

  Like many beginning weavers I made rugs, clothes and domestic cloth. Coming from a practical New England Yankee heritage, I thought if I failed as an artist I could make a blanket or coat to keep myself warm.

I spent my first few years as an apprentice and then as an art student learning the language of patterns, weave structures, drafting, dyeing, spinning, knitting, embroidery – basically anything that involved threads. I explored ancient weavings of Peru, Egypt, Indonesia, China and colonial America.

Student at RISD 1974

All the while I kept testing the waters, experimenting how threads could be used to make art. And ultimately I grew the confidence to call myself a textile artist.

 

Entering the new

2024

 

I am here

You are here.

And we are here together.

 

January is one of my favorite months to be here in my studio.

The holidays are over.

It’s quiet and often I get to be snowed in.

I hope that you, too, find a quiet place to reflect and create.

 

Maine Jewish Museum exhibition “Narrative Thread, Conversations with the heart”

            Opening January 11th 5-7 PM

Artist talk February 11th 2PM

 

 

This tender moment

Monson Community weaving in process.

Last week I was in Monson Maine, guiding a Community Art Project. This was truly a collaborative effort. The quarry shaped loom was built by one of the staff of Monson Arts, the fabric we wove with was all donated by the community and volunteers helped cut and prepare the materials for our weaving.

With the loom and work tables set up in a prime location next to the Monson General Store, we wove and made small people to tell the story of Monson, her people and her quarries. The finished creation will be assembled soon — I can’t wait to see the pictures!!

Monson Community Weaving. The loom is shaped like a quarry!

The Monson Community!

Clothespin Momma holding a baby.

Along side this Community Art project, I continue to guide my apprentice Katherine Ferrier through the Maine Crafts Apprentice Program, make my own art and play in the summer waters.

Monson Love Letter #2 - slate shard woven with hand-spun paper

Indigo stone cozies




Nurturing, Tending and Cultivating

Surround yourself with love.

Here in Maine, April is a tease, a long slow awakening to the warmer, greener months ahead. April is a time for nurturing, for tending the tiny seedlings in the greenhouse, for opening windows and leaning into beginnings.  We get a day here and there in the 70s, but for the most part April is rainy, wet, foggy, damp, chilly, dreary and grey. And then…like a long overdue freight train, the greens and floral brilliance explode and we quickly forget the dim days of April.

Here is what I have been cultivating in my studio and beyond:

·      Two workshops for middle school students at Sedomocha Middle School in Dover Foxcroft Maine – teaching paper weaving/poetry and a workshop using found object for sculptural weavings. Supported by Monson Arts, Monson ME. Be sure to check out my Instagram feed for news about these workshops!

·     Attleboro Arts Museum - 200 of my crocheted stones “Hold Me Tight” are on exhibit in a NE Regional Surface Design show. Until May 6, 2023.

·      I am two months into my apprenticeship with Katherine Ferrier, a textile artist, poet and educator from Rockland Maine. I’m teaching her how to spin, use natural dyes and weave on a floor loom. This program is supported by the Maine Arts Commission and Maine Crafts Association

Katherine’s indigo hands with her hand spun wool

·      A lovely interview with Textiel Plus Magazine – a Dutch arts publication. Look for the translate button!  https://textielplus.nl/artikelen/sarah-haskel/

·      “Hold Me Like A Mother: Pink” has been accepted in the Surface Design Association exhibit titled “Safe Keeping” . The exhibition will be held at 108 Contemporary Art Gallery, Tulsa, OK from June 2-July, 23 2023

·      Bar Harbor, Maine – I have a mini-exhibit- four pieces on display at Island Artisans. If you in the area - please check it out!

Hold Me Like A Mother: Pink

Here’s hoping you are finding ways to nurture and tend those around you….and that you feel cared for as well.

What Can I Tell You?

Monson winter moonscape

It’s been several months since I have written a blog post — and simply put I have been absorbed in the joys and challenges of life. Making art. Taking care of a wee one. 

And most importantly — loving life so completely….embracing the chaos, the  messiness, the heartache and the celebrations, that I ache with emotion.

I make art - to try to put into concrete terms this immeasurable joy of living in this physical world. 

The elegant simplicity of hand- spun linen, dipped in indigo.

Monson slate shards woven with hand-spun paper. My tribute to the industries of this region - past and present.

Currently I am up in Monson, Maine on the tail end of a month long residency. Being in this community of hardy rural folks with my cohort creatives has nurtured a steady stream of work, exploring new techniques and revisiting familiar turf.

Winter has traditionally been a vibrant and productive time in my studio - and this winter retreat has nurtured my curiosity and opened my eyes and heart.
The FiberArt Now exhibit “Yarn Rope String” is still up at the New Bedford Art Museum check it out before it closes on March 12th. And in other news — I have been selected as a Mentor in the Maine Crafts Associations Craft Apprentice Program. For the next 9 months I will be working with quilter/poet Katherine Ferrier of Rockland Maine. We will explore making and dyeing threads, weaving from start to finish and building a cohesive body of work. Read more about this fabulous program!

Check out this on line exhibit at Speedwell Projects! So happy and honored to be included.

As always - the latest images and news can be found on my Instagram page.

Stay beautiful, my friends - Sarah 

"PRAISE FOR LIFE"

Praise For Life #9 “Praise for the power of forgiveness and letting go”

In 2005 I created a series of 10 small (16” by 16”) framed works that celebrated and illustrated the poem “Praise for Life” a Kaddish prayer adapted by Rabbi Arthur Waskow.

PRAISE FOR LIFE

Praise for Life.

Praise for all the senses of the body

reaching out and plucking the universe like an autumn apple.

Praise for the dream of justice here upon the earth,

equity and well being for the whole of humanity.

May our children’s children harvest the dreams

            we plant in our brief lives.

Praise for Life.

Praise though all of our philosophies and explanations

 trickle through the fingers of our experience like water.

Praise for Life.

Praise for it though it is brief before the lives of stars,

            and the lives of worlds,

                        and the lives of even the trees that shade us.

Praise for Life.

Praise for the sacred power of remembrance.

Praise for the sacred power of forgiveness and letting go.

Praise for Life, the beginning, the middle and the amen of this prayer.

 These pieces have been exhibited in many galleries, and other exhibits and now it is time to let them fly off on their own. So rather than selling them as a collection, I am selling them as individual pieces. One has already sold and others are being contemplated. Please contact me if you are interested. Each one comes with a copy of the full poem as well as the story of the individual piece.

These pieces are for sale in the gallery now - so please explore this powerful collection of works that illustrate a poem that sings a song of love and celebration of life. Please let me know which one speaks to you.

 

Casting Off

Casting off

These words have a few different meanings.

Stone cozies in a huddle. Maine beach stones with crocheted linen dyed with madder.

 One of them is textile related – as in “to finish a knitted fabric by casting off all the stitches.”

Another definition is a mariner’s term for unfastening or untying a boat line.

And lastly a dancing term: “to turn one’s partner in a square in a square dance and pass around the outside of the set and back.”

 This week I cast off from the mainland, heading to Monhegan for three weeks.

I will be binding off one season’s end and casting on new threads for the fall.

I will loosen my ties to one chapter and turn round to face a new one.

Solo exhibition - Maine State Capitol, Augusta Maine.

 Closing out this season I highlight the following:

·      Solo exhibition at the Maine State Capitol, Augusta, Maine. I have 13 pieces up in a one person show that runs until December 31, 2022.

Biddeford Blooms - the mill building.

·      “Biddeford Blooms” a yearlong community art project was completed and unveiled at the Fringe Fest on August 19th. This quartet of tapestries that illustrate the life and history of Biddeford, will be on display throughout the community for a few months – and eventually will be permanently installed in either the city library or the mill buildings.

 

Sunset from Indiantown Island

·      The language of color - I look back at my year long journey into learning new dye techniques and marvel at the depth of my new palette. I am keenly aware that my work hasn’t taken full advantage this new vocabulary. I have been dabbling here and there –making stone cozies that honor the small and unpretentious. I’m not sure what lies ahead, except that there will be a horizon line awaiting. Because, you know, every sailor who casts off, has to set sights on something.

Summer in Maine

This ever so brief slice of warm days perfect for cool salt water swims, blueberries and lobster on the menu, low tide explorations, osprey calls across the bay and even the foggy mornings that keep us in the harbor.

Need I say more?

As is our tradition here in Maine — we soak up every minute of every day, with deep gratitude for our good fortune to live in such a magnificent place.

I took a collection of recently completed stone cozies on the boat with me this weekend. We had fun rearranging them on rocks, logs, crushed shells and sea grass.

And when I got home I was delighted to see that the Madder red series of stone cozies has been featured in the summer 22 issue of FiberArt Now. Thank you juror Michael Rohde!

Stone Cozies get highlighted in the summer 22 issue of FiberArt Now!

Seedlings and sprouts

    If you are a gardener you will know what I am talking about. It’s that moment when the efforts of your labor and your vision show real evidence. Those tiny leaves that seem so tender and fragile push up through the damp spring earth, beginning the way for a cornucopia of vegetables, flowers and dye plants.

     Today feels like that kind of day for me – when the fruits of many months of labor are evident. Today I take months of art work to the photographer to be documented. And this week I announce my new community art project.

    After months of contemplation I am ready to launch my fifth community art initiative - WHITE FLAG  - motivated to by a desire to foster openness and transformation through conversation, creativity and reflection.  As with all my previous community art projects, WHITE FLAG uses a textile as a vehicle for healthy communication and creativity to encourage understanding between individuals and communities.

    The centerpiece for this project, a WHITE FLAG, has been recognized for centuries as a symbol not only for surrender or truce, but a willingness to have a dialogue and negotiate. If we are going to survive as a species, as a planet - we need to find ways to come together peacefully, to listen and to be vulnerable.  This community art project builds on that concept – asking participants to sit at a table, talk, listen and use embroidery threads, sewing trims, buttons and writing/drawing tools to embellish the WHITE FLAG with words, images and patterns reflecting their dialogue. This project will have 10 handwoven linen WHITE FLAGS and 10 – 20 hosts (an individual, family, school, household, institution, restaurant/café or collective) who will support the project at each site, using prompts and guidelines.

    Parallel to the creative embellishment of the handwoven flags, I will ask people to write about “making peace” on kozo paper. I will spin this paper will be spun into thread and later weave it into one large WHITE FLAG.

    WHITE FLAG is centered on encouraging conversations for understanding and connection through interactive and engaging activities, appropriate for all ages and abilities. Throughout the project, the hosts and participants will witness how the WHITE FLAG changes with each get-together, becoming more and more layered with threads, stories, ribbons, images and text. The project will culminate with a public exhibition of the 10 embellished WHITE FLAGS, the large WHITE FLAG woven with “making peace” paper threads, along with photographs and videos of the white cloth community events. Through curiosity, action, listening, observation, responding and reflection this project aspires to transcend conflict and transform communities.

   Keep your eyes open for WHITE FLAG events near you! I will be soliciting folks to be event hosts and participants later this summer. Please contact me if you are curious to know more and/or want to participate.

 SOON in my gallery I will have several new pieces - so excited that I finally got the last several months of art work photographed!! Stay tuned to my gallery for seven new pieces!

OTHER NEWS ~

LightsOut Gallery featured a short YouTube video interview of me. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aOWameeGv-I&t=7s

“Well Used, Well Loved” is on exhibit in “the PERFECT AGE: reflections on the passage of time”  HERA Gallery Wakefield RI. May 14 – June 18. There will be an artist Zoom talk on May 26th at 7 PM Zoom link on the gallery website.

“Hold Me Like A Mother” has been accepted to “Yarn Rope String” FiberArtNow Juried on line exhibition. July 2022

 

“Live Your Truth” and “Indigo Nights” have both been accepted to the Handweavers Guild of America’s Convergence Symphony of the Mountains exhibit in Knoxville TN. July 2022

 My piece titled “Sinking House #1” is included in “Unraveling Women’s Art” by P.L. Henderson SuperNova Books, England, 2021

 

 

 

Blush

I am deeply honored for the opportunity to share my work in the latest edition of Creative Maine Magazine.

I hope you enjoy reading the story behind each piece.

Much gratitude to the editor and publisher Nancy Gordon.

When We Remember (detail)

Watery World

I am 70% water. 

Swimming at age 5.

(And so are you.)

The Earth is 71% water.

I’ve been thinking about the qualities of water a lot lately.

Water is flexible – easily fits and flows around other more concrete objects. 

Water is open to change --  rapid change. 

Water reacts and responds to the environment around it – the wind, shoreline, air temperature. 

Water can gently changes the shape of things over time.

Water can wear down things that are difficult, heavy and resistant, such as stones at the beach. 

Water flows easily, goes where there is least resistance.

And yet there is so much hidden under the surface of water.

I can immerse myself in water. 

Submerge. 

Rounded Maine Beach stones.

Float, sink.

Swim through.

Dive and dip.

 

Detail: “One Bright Island”

Water has been a muse for my work for a long time. 

And so on this breezy March day – I tip my hat to water. 

 Without water, I could not make my art, dye my threads, or paint.

Without out water, I would not exist.

Thank you water.

Detail “Dissolving Boundaries”

Material Meaning

The materials we select to make our art are embedded with many layers of meaning, metaphors, messages, political implications, historical connections and more. I’ve been exploring this topic with my textile colleagues and giving it much thought as I work alone this winter in my studio.

The material I use to build my art is thread. Threads in general are a metaphor for connection - the threads that bind us, our common threads. Thread also is a line - a continuous line of thought (the thread of a message), a line of reasoning, a continuous element. 

A thread is a group of filaments twisted together to make a long continuous strand. And within the realm of threads there are many fibers from which to construct this long line, this connective strand, this flexible linear element. 

My preference is to use fibers that have organic origins such as paper, linen, cotton, silk and rayon (made from cellulose fibers). Threads made from these organic materials are effected by humidity, light, wind and abrasion. I find the susceptibility to change of these organic fiber materials parallels the changes I observe in my own changing/aging body. Exploring these parallels of impermanence, I treat my hand woven linens to rust dyeing, weathering, bleach and compost dyeing. These transformative and dye processes allow me to be a witness in the process of metamorphosis and to challenge my attachment to what I once deemed as precious. 

These materials are not only metaphor for change but a vehicle for personal growth and reflection. This avenue of thought about materials and meaning is only one of many. What does the material you use mean to your message, to your process, to your growth as an artist?

My interview with the Handweavers Guild of America can be found on FaceBook (no account needed). Enjoy!

Stone Cozy: Beach stone with crocheted madder dyed linen

Native Tongue

I just completed a four month course on Natural Dyes from Maiwa School of Textiles.

I sing high praise for this amazing on-line class - with concise easy to follow directions and videos, easily accessible support, well written PDFs and community with other students.

I am grateful the Maine Arts Commission who supported my pursuit to learn a new palette with a Project Grant for Artists. As an experienced artist, it is daunting to take the risk to forge a whole new direction - and this foray into natural dyes is just that. Although as a young weaver/artist in the 1970s I did natural dyeing, it was a half hearted attempt with out the technical support and knowledge that is available now.

In a recent interview with Warp And Weft Magazine I explain my love for color, nature and woven threads.

https://www.warpandweftmag.com/field-notes/sarah-haskell

“Weaving answered questions that were elusive with painting, sculpture and printmaking. As a medium that is built with three dimensional lines (threads), weaving offered me a method to build texture, pattern and most importantly to manipulate color. Because weaving is constructed of many threads that intersect and over lay each other, I found that I could create a surface of pixelated colors that mimicked the multidimensional color I saw in nature. The natural world around me has been my inspiration, my teacher and my solace for as long as I can remember.  With the language of threads and the structure of weaving I felt like I was finally able to bring what I felt and saw in nature into my art.”

The entire palette of over 80 dye samples.

My dye journal with notes and samples.

This palette feels like a home coming to the colors of nature that inspired my first forays into weaving - a return to my native tongue.

So now it’s time to begin a narrative with this palette… time to make art.

Seeds

Last fall I received a Fellowship from the Maine Arts Commission . Over the past winter I used these funds to build a dye so that I could expand my dye skills and create new methods of using color in my work. Color inspired by the natural world is central to my work — and now I have the equipment and space to dye my handwoven cloth or threads with botanical dyes. And this summer I received a Professional Development grant from the Maine Arts Commission to learn more about natural dyes.

So here I am …. deep into the learning curve. Starting with planting dye plants this spring, to harvesting the flowers and dyeing - I’ve been experimenting and playing in the dye lab like a mad scientist. I’ve taken two on-line workshops learning a variety of techniques for indigo vats, shifting colors with iron and methods for mordanting to assure long lasting colors. And this month I’ll take another on-line workshop to learn about making paint from dried indigo leaves.

Drying the harvested marigolds.

Drying the harvested marigolds.

All this activity is building a foundation for new work. Like the seeds I planted last spring for dye plants, the seeds I’ve planted in the dye lab are just starting to blossom into projects and ideas.

My very first effort in the dye lab has been a baby blanket for my first grandchild due in mid-October. The warp was dyed in an exhaust bath of marigold and weld then quickly immersed in the big indigo vat. The color came out a gorgeous light sea green. The weft was dyed in the same exhaust bath (only more exhausted!). I used an 8H undulating twill for the structure.

Cotton baby blanket in 8 H twill.

Cotton baby blanket in 8 H twill.

And next up — some art! I’m so eager to see what I can make of this new palette and new methods for using color to tell the stories that tug at my heart.

One year since

For most of the past year I felt disoriented, lost, in a fog, in murky waters. Time was fluid - days, hours, weeks all seemed to have the same weight, density and duration. I took up cooking and gardening like I was responsible for feeding a small village. I cleaned and organized long overdue places at home like closets and the basement. I wove simple linen cloths for drying dishes and rag rugs from discarded clothing. I found solace in simplicity and in the ordinary. These actions and chores gave me a sense of purpose and I felt like I was contributing to a greater good.

And I went outside. I walked miles.  Going out into the woods or along the shore line, gazing up at the birds and watching the clouds move overhead gave me grounding. Watching a hawk raise her brood in a tree above my studio gave me hope.  There was no pandemic in the woods or in the ocean. There were no politics on the moon or heavens above. The wind and sun know nothing of racial or religious divide. Being close to Nature was not only an escape but medicine. 

And yet I want to stay informed and be engaged with the world. So I watched the news.  Politics, the election, covid statistics, the racial divide, climate change and civil unrest made me anxious. The immensity of these issues colliding together felt like the building pressure of an imminent volcanic eruption.  This unease created a compression in my body and my spirit…like a tourniquet was tightening around my chest.  

I felt stuck between wanting to stay informed and longing for relief from this physical constriction. I couldn’t gain perspective. I yearned to tether myself to the hawk’s feet, to fly above all this earthly chaos, to gain some insight. I ached to be free of this narrowing feeling.

Making art has always been my pathway to process these larger than life issues. I kept thinking – what can I make of this?  But this past year felt so much larger than anything I have ever experienced. I just couldn’t focus or create a meaningful community art project, something that might help me and others find a way out of these dark and constricting times. 

So I just kept making the art that appeared to me in dreams, on long walks or winter x-skiing.

I wove long horizontal blues to mimic the ocean horizon. I wove a sunrise inspired by a Rumi poem about unconditional love. I wove trees with moonscapes and trees with bodies buried deep below, tangled among the roots. I wove a body floating in a sea of blue and one in a field of dark orange. I embroidered many flocks of birds and a galaxy of stars. 

And now…one year since we stepped into this drama-filled time ….. I am untangling the past year of living and art making. I am beginning to understand what has been calling to be me.

In seeking relief from this this narrow, constricted perspective, I long for a wider perception and expansive view. Not just a wider vision in the physical realm  – but a viewpoint that illustrates a different way of looking at our world. A bigger picture or a wider view that might lift us from the minutia and constrictions of politics, the pandemic and socio/economic divisions. 

Nature reigns in this expansive place. The ever-present song birds, the trees that reach to the firmament, the sprawling sky, the deep earth, the endless ocean, the many galaxies of stars and the wisdom of the human body reside in this spacious realm.  

I show up in this place of unlimited dreams and unconditional love.

I look, listen and make art. 

 

Work in process May 2021. Hand woven, indigo dyed, linen and rayon.

Work in process May 2021. Hand woven, indigo dyed, linen and rayon.