A natural dye rainbow

I have been doing a lot of experiments natural dyeing , and I decided to take a course, to get the knowledge in place systematically. So I’m doing a three module course with Justine Aldersey-Williams this year.

In module 1, on colour, we have been learning to make a rainbow out of three plant colours. Justine selected three of the oldest dyestuffs, as they stand the test of time: indigo for blue, weld for yellow, and madder for red.

My weld and indigo both worked well. As I was focussing on small samples, which takes a lot of faffing, I didn’t want to have a lot of due left to use up at the end of the session. I think I have been a bit stingy with the madder. The red is a bit pale.

I did three primary colours and overdyed with the same set of dye baths to get three secondary colours. Then I used modifiers to get a bigger range. I used white vinegar, washing soda, and an iron solution. One red changed so much that I thought it was orange. The weld seems to have dominated the reaction, as all the colours with any weld (yellow, orange and green) look practically the same.

The whole process took quite a lot of time. Normally, I would not have needed to record everything, and keep all the samples in the correct order. As a result, I left everything top dry in a foil tray. And managed to dry creases in. I knew perfectly well that was going to happen, but by the time I got that far I was too tired to think straight.

For the course, I had to show dyed samples in my dye journal, and also prepare a sample card. I’ve also done a small wall hanging to use a nail in the wall of the sewing room (left over from its previous use in my ex’s office). I have another set of samples, which I plan to turn into bunting, but I haven’t got that far yet…

In search of forgotten colours

This is a fascinating video posted by the V&A about a family business in Japan that has used only natural dyes since 1988. It is beautiful and informative, and is a very pleasant way to spend 18 minutes.

In Search of Forgotten Colours

I just had to share this video that the V&A have put on YouTube: In Search of Forgotten Colours – Sachio Yoshioka and the Art of Natural Dyeing.

Sachio Yoshioka runs the family dye workshop in Fushimi, southern Kyoto. Since 1988, he has only used plants and other natural materials for his extensive range of beautiful colours.

Although the video is informative, I like just watching the yards of beautiful colours go by…

Progress in the dye garden

I’m beginning to move on from the idea of a dedicated dye garden.

I suspected this moment would come.

Originally, I had plans for a kitchen garden. I set up eight raised beds, and allocated the beds to different types of crop. I grew annuals on the square foot basis, where plant spacing is governed by how many plants fit in a square foot of the plot, so you might have 9 smaller plants, but one nice big cabbage. This system has lots of advantages. It helps you to move away from the initial pleasure of having a whole row of lettuce, and then realising that you have a glut, just at the same time as everyone else does. You plant a couple of squares with each crop, and as each is harvested you plant something else in that space. With a small amount of planning, you have a sensible quantity of a variety of crops, and you don’t have to think too hard about crop rotation. And on top of all that, the plot looks nicer, because if there are unsightly spaces, they are smaller and well distributed. As a theory, I can recommend it.

My garden is very windy, so I selected as many weatherproof varieties as I could find, giving priority to dwarf ones, on the theory that they had to be less vulnerable to wind damage. Then I sorted out some perennials. I had a bed of rhubarb (two thirds of which is still there), some raspberries and strawberries (a magnet for bindweed) and some asparagus (which did nothing at all).

The broad beans did well in the first year, as did the lettuce and some of the sprouts. But by the second year, word had got out. Before anything was near being ready for me to eat, it had already gone to a selection of slugs, rabbits, pigeons, and deer.

Last year I decided to try a dye garden. I planted up a couple of beds with perennial dye plants, and left them to settle for the first year. Obviously, all the plants were quite small, so I filled in the spaces with some annuals that would cheer things up and keep the dye theme going. I got some beautiful marigolds and some dark fuchsias and petunias from the local nursery. The next time I looked, they were gone. And yes, I did remember slug pellets.

I have had a couple of sessions over the winter combing the seed catalogues for entries including the words tinctorius or tinctoria, and had an interesting selection of seeds to try this year. Most are annuals. I suspect these will go the same way as the annual vegetables. Some are sunflowers, which I think won’t survive the wind.

I drew up a sowing plan, and put reminders in my calendar. But next door’s cat used the roof of my little greenhouse as a springboard to get back over the fence once too often, so I’ve had a bit of a bottleneck, with not enough space for growing plants on the window sill. So some seeds are still in the packet, and inevitably of course, some didn’t germinate.

So I reckon that annual seeds are probably not the way forward. Until recently, there hasn’t been much sign of life in those raised beds, if you don’t count dandelions, nettles, and docks. The comfrey and the woad are making a good effort, but there was no sign of anything else.

I had a massive weeding session over the Bank Holiday weekend, and discovered a few tentative shoots emerging. The rosemary and sage are still there from the kitchen garden, and although they show signs of being attacked by the Beast from the East, they are trying very hard to get over it.

So I am going to leave last year’s planting to sort itself out, see how far I get with this year’s annuals, and fill up the rest with perennials and shrubs. I’ll plant dyestuff when I can, but you have to be realistic, don’t you?

Red onion skins

I heard on Woman’s Hour recently that red onion skins give green. I thought that was worth a go. Onion skins are very light, and you hear tales of people getting their friends and neighbours to save all theirs to go into the dye pot. As most people are dying enough fibre to make a garment or a quilt, while I’m only wanting to dye a silk scarf, I thought it was worth a go.

One supper from a Nadiya Hussain red onion recipe gave me more than I needed, in fact I had enough for two. I scrunched up both scarves, and put rubber bands round the bundle for one to get a marbled effect, and on the other I put some clothes pegs to give a random resist pattern.

The dye bath was pretty much the same colour as the skins that went in, but the result was a definite old gold, as so many natural dye stuffs yield. It is a nice colour, and it is quite different from the burnt orange I got with white onion skins.

So I wondered whether it was a mistake to use mordanted fabric. I just reached for the basket of alum mordanted scarves waiting to be processed, forgetting that white onion skins don’t need a mordant, so probably the red don’t either. The result was much more like the colour of a red onion.

But not green. And it proves that changing the mordant changes the result. But I didn’t have anything mordanted with another chemical handy. What else might change the dye colour? Acidity.

There was quite a lot of colour left in the second due bath, so I got out the ph indicator paper, and found that it was neutral. So I split it into two bowls, and added vinegar to one to make it acidic, and bicarbonate of soda to the other to make it alkali. Nothing terribly scientific, just enough of each to get the ph to 8 and 3.

So here are the results of the red onion experiments so far. From left to right, we have:

  • unmordanted,
  • the two alum mordanted,
  • the exhaust dye bath from the one on the left, with white vinegar added,
  • and the other half of the exhaust due bath, with bicarbonate of soda added.

So still no green. I’m guessing the bicarbonate of soda had no effect, as the paler colour is probably the result of reusing the dye. Of course, what I should have done is to split the dye bath into three, so I had an un-adapted “control”,  but I didn’t think of that in time.

So now the experiment is on pause until I have more red onion skins.