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Dye Magic
By Mary Colton
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Dye magic began for me in the mid 1970’s with a warp Ikat workshop. . . Every advance of the warp was a visual adventure. . . . My interest was in the flow of color, and for 20 years I wove either warp or weft Ikat fabrics which I constructed into clothing and sold. . . . When I started accumulating yarns for tapestry, I found no one source that had enough choices. . . Yarns from different companies that might fill holes in a color range often were not the same size or density.
I find there is a compatibility of colors that results from dyeing with mixtures from a few basic stock colors. While the “straight from the bottle” hues from commercial dye might be harsh, I soften hues by adding a touch of their complement, and I harmonize my colors for a project by adding a touch of each dye mix to the others. . . . The most compelling reasons for dyeing are to design one’s own palette, to learn about color mixing through experience, and to have those surprises when a dyed skein is even lovelier than expected. . . .
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rught: Mary Colton, “Spring Dance,” 42” x 27”,
2001; hand-dyed wool
below: Mary Colton, “Once There Was a River,”
41” x 70”, 2005; hand-dyed wool
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Why Dye?
James Koehler
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I began dyeing various fibers in 1977 when I entered a Benedictine monastery in New Mexico. . . .The monks supported themselves financially, in part, by weaving . . . Each autumn, we wandered through the canyon where the monastery was located and collected . . . sage, chamisa, cholla cactus, Navajo tea or cota, mountain mahogany, and various lichens. We had commercial sources for obtaining black walnut, cochineal, and indigo. . . .
During the early years spent at the monastery, I met Evelyn Anselevicius. . . She worked as a textile designer for Knoll Associates in New York. . . For a period of about two years, Evelyn would spend a week each month working with another monk and me. She had learned about dyeing from the dye chemists at Knoll and taught us how to adapt those commercial dye processes for our own purposes. . . .
Understatement was one principle that Evelyn passed on to me. The scale of the tapestries I design is relatively small, permitting me to work with a limited palette of very subtle gradations. Obtaining such a palette would be difficult if I did not dye the wool myself. . . .
Generally, I dye about 400 pounds of yarn each year. Most of it is for my own use. I also dye a full spectrum of hues in several saturation levels for my students.
Most hues are the result of mixing a premetallized dye with a leveling acid dye. . . .
Yarn is dyed in hue and saturation gradations using a percentage system. Geometric progressions determine the transitions so that differences in the resulting color are actually visible and not too subtle. The process is mathematical and precise. Given the tapestries I create, this level of precision is necessary.
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right: James Koehler, "Harmonic Oscillation XXXVII," 57” x 32";
photo by James Hart
below: James Koehler, "Harmonic Oscillation XLVIII," 48" x 24" each;
photo by James Hart
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Dyeing and Creativity
By Patricia Dunn
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Creativity and dyeing, in my experience, go hand in hand. In the 1980’s, the idea that fiber is an entity unto itself became apparent . . . before long there were miles of natural hued yarns. Wanting color, I eagerly signed up for dyeing and color theory workshops whenever they were offered by the Handweavers Guild of Boulder, Colorado. The skill of dyeing offered me freedom from “fashion” colors and quest shopping. . . . .
As the adventure began, the practice of dyeing became a teacher. I chose to use Lanaset fiber reactive dyes because of their repeatability and resistance to fading. The blue, violet, scarlet, dull red, magenta, yellow, gold yellow, navy blue and black powders are the basis of my palette. . . .
… it was after our move to Zacatecas that I became actively aware of light. In the dry season, the mountain sides were scratchy, gray, beige, dusty pale green. The rains came, the vegetation transformed into many shades of green. They inspired the tapestry “Zacatecas 2: Cerro del Grillo. The Time of the Rains.” . . .
In the "classroom" of dyeing, I observed an interesting and slow change in my “yellow” source. In the beginning gold-yellow rather than yellow predominated. . . . Reflecting this choice, the palette was duller. Later, selecting colors for “Zacatecas 4: City, Sun and Sky in Eternal Mosaic”, I realized I had changed to using pure yellow as the “yellow”. This change was clearly in response to the light of this high altitude desert.
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below: Patricia Dunn, "Zacatecas 2. Cerro del Grillo. Time of the Rains,” 60” x 48”, 1999; photo by Mark Dunn
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below: Patricia Dunn, "Zacatecas 4: City, Sun and Sky in Eternal Mosaic," 57" X 75", 2002; photo by Mark Dunn
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below: Patricia Dunn, Detail of “Cerro del Grillo,” a constant source of inspiration.
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Too Close To The Sun
By Sarah Swett
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. . . My dying career began with white yarn and no money. Desperate for color, I checked out a library book, collected lichens (Evernia prunastri) from my apple trees and boiled them up. They produced an insipid yellow, but the yarn smelled heavenly. . .and for a time I was awash in brown and yellow skeins. Further reading led me to synthetic dyes . . . but though I dyed pounds of yarn I did not bond with the dyes themselves, and when I got my hands on Trudy Van Stralen’s book, Indigo, Madder and Marigold and learned that it is possible to get vibrant, long-lasting colors from natural dyes, I returned to my first love. Sixteen years later, my interest has not flagged. . . .
I now use six dyes and one mordant (alum), all of which have withstood the test of time and are not likely to kill me or anyone else: indigo (blue), madder (warm red), cochineal (cool red), weld (yellow), walnut (cool brown), and cutch (warm brown) . . .
A careful dyer can turn out skeins as predictable and level as any commercial product, but one of the perks of the process is the ability to produce colors available nowhere else. Although I am particular about technique – the dyes must be light and wash fast -- I am increasingly willing to follow the color into unexpected territory. . .
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left: Sarah Swett, "October," 72" x 3.5";
wool warp and weft, natural dyes --
cochineal, madder, weld, walnut and madder on gray yarn
below: Sarah Swett, "Two Recipes for Coffee Cake," 48" x 24";
wool warp and weft, natural dyes
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Five Colorful Reasons to Own a Dye Pot (or Two)
By Mary Zicafoose
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Reason #1: Ultimate control of your universe…When you become a dyer the world of color is YOURS. . . .
Reason # 2: Dip into the field of infinite color possibilities. Dyeing your own yarn allows you to steer the ship on a spectacular color voyage. You are no longer tagging along on some yarn manufacturers random color cruise. The rainbow is at your feet, to do with it what you will. . . .
Reason #3: Fun and Games. Dyeing is fun, satisfying, and actually quite easy. . . . .
Reason # 4: Overcome your fear. You truly do not need a state of the art dye facility to create beautiful color. Nor do you need a degree in chemistry. What do you think the 10,000 years of dyers/weavers before us used? . . .
Reason #5: Do your homework. There are all kinds of dyes out there for all kinds of fibers. Start with learning one dye system for the family of fibers (animal or vegetable?) you use the most. . . .
I have been dyeing wool with Pro-Wash Fast Acid Dyes from Pro Chemical for 16 years. I love to dye and I love this dye.
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below: Mary Zicafoose, "The Sound of Fire,” 68" x 28", 2003; slit tapestry, hand dyed wool on linen warp
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below: Zicafoose, "Crossfire,” 62" x 41", 2003; slit woven tapestry, hand dyed wool on linen warp
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below: Mary Zicafoose, "Slash & Burn #1,” 40" x 63", 2004;
slit woven tapestry
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