Julian’s Garden of Garb Historical Costuming
Browsing all posts in: German Renaissance

Canvaswork Book Cover

November 16

I made this canvaswork piece for a friend’s Book of Hours, and then paneled it as my period competency in canvaswork for the Athena’s Thimble needlework guild. The design is from a 16th century icon of the Archangel Michael, and it isn’t stitched on commercial needlepoint canvas, but a soft loose-weave linen, which was not easy to work with. Unlike stitching counted thread on linen, here the linen holes have to be large enough to pass good-sized wool thread. Counted work is stitching on fabric; canvaswork is making the fabric – usually heavy tapestry – on a loose scaffolding.

The yarn was all handspun by me, and dyed with period plant dyes, most of which I grew in my herb garden. The orange-red of Michael’s tunic is madder, and his cloak is from onion skins. His halo and trim are dyed with goldenrod. All the shades of white, ivory, black, and brown yarn are undyed wool from sheep that I kept at various points, before I had to travel for work and had to rehome them. The black sheep were Black Welsh Mountain, the browns were Shetland, and the light colors from various Icelandic and Romney sheep.

Embroidered book covers were common in the 16th century, but most of the ones in museums are fancy fabrics and threads. I wanted to recreate something more rustic. The idea of this piece is that some rural farmer’s son managed to learn to read well enough to go into the clergy, and was gifted a Book of Hours, and his family pitched in and stitched a cover for it, using wool and plants they had on the land. Not a fancy noble person’s book, but one which the rural priest would keep and remember until it finally fell apart.

My rust velvet Rock

November 16

Someone at an event snapped a pic of me in my rust velvet Rock, which is a 16th century German doublet. I’m also wearing my Tellerbarett, or “platter hat”, which gets a lot of compliments. (Or sometimes cries of “Wide load!) Since I have lupus and really shouldn’t be in the sun, the Tellerbarett actually serves as a hands-free umbrella for outdoor events, which is my secret agenda in wearing it. (Well, and it’s impressive, and people can easily find me on a crowded field if they need to.) The rust velvet was a gift from a friend, the olive brocade was a remnant at a discount fabric store, and I actually shelled out and bought the trim at an SCA event because I liked the colors so much.

Brigitte’s Jänker

November 16

The Jänker (pronounced yenker, vaguely) is a lovely women’s outer garment from 16th century Germany, and I’m surprised I don’t see more of them about. It’s sort of a coat-cape – a cloak fitted through the shoulders and with slits for the arms, covered by long and often decorated panels which act as a “fake sleeve” to protect the arms at least somewhat. It’s excellent for wearing over outfits with fancy sleeves which might have trouble fitting comfortably in ordinary coat sleeves, but is less clumsy than a cloak. Brigitte reports that it is extremely warm. I did actually buy the heavy black coat wool (from a Rev-War sutler), and the fur collar was removed from a worn-out coat.

I found the Jänker pattern in the book Drei Schnittbucher, which is full of period 16th century German and Austrian original patterns, made for the tailor’s guilds of the time. I’ve made a few pieces from that book so far, and it is fascinating to recreate them.

I did all the embroidery for the coat in wool canvaswork (needlepoint to most people). The front pieces are, again, from Hans Hofer; two different counted strip patterns which I combined into one piece of trim.

The bands on the sleeve panels are based on a Florentine illuminated manuscript of the 15th century – a little early for us, but copies of patterns for artists and embroiderers floated around for centuries. It’s from a copy of the Dialogues of Plato, made by Ficino for Lorenzo di Medici. I found it in the book Medieval Needlepoint by Debby Robinson. The original manuscript is done more in Easter pastels, but I shifted the colors to be bright earth tone versions of them, largely because I’d already made the front trim and I wanted them to match.

The bottom of the sleeve panels are decorated with wool yarn tassels in colors which match the trims.

 

Brigitte’s Black Dress

November 16

This dress, though it’s black, is entirely made of very thin linen, so it is actually quite cool on a hot day. It was also my Lacis competency for the Athena’s Thimble needlework guild. As with most of Brigitte’s other dresses, the sleeves are removable.

I’d never done lacis before, so I got an old book and with trepidation attempted it. Finding netting I could afford was  tricky, but I found it at a needlework store which was going out of business online and everything was on sale. Reading about it, I realized that it’s just counted work on a net! So simple! The only difficult is making sure that you weave the loose ends in so that they can’t be seen.

The lacis designs were all counted work from Hans Hofer’s Formbuchlein. The bodice trim was a double scroll and the brustfleck was an interesting woven diamond design I liked.

I did a pomegranate design on the sleeve bands.

I also made her a black linen snood with lacis in a wave design. All 16th century patterns from Hans Hofer. Of course we have no idea if they were actually used for lace, but I can’t imagine that they weren’t. Certainly I would have, if I had lived then and had access to them.

 

Brigitte’s Winter Confection!

November 15

This next winter outfit for Brigitte was my Couching Competency for the Athena’s Thimble Historical Needlework Guild. The fabric was an ivory damask bought and given to me by a woman who wanted me to make her a wedding gown, and then she broke up with the fiance and told me to keep the fabric.

Since this was meant to be worn in the winter, especially for outside events, I made a partlet of a scrap of ivory velveteen, and couched half loops on it.

The partlet was lined with a cut-up white rabbit-fur jacket I trashpicked. It had enough decent pieces of fur on it to trim the dress.

A view of the partlet from the back. It ties under the arms with ribbons, and kept her neck and shoulders very warm.

…And a cute shot from above, to show the fancy hat with the feathers as well.

I couched half loops and brick stitch on the bodice as well.

Here’s the dress without the partlet. All the gold brocade was from that Sally Ann table runner we got for $3, mentioned in the last post. We used some of the white fur coat bits to line the lower outer sleeves. The lower inner sleeves were made to be removable, but I ended up tacking them in place as they tended to come untied and come down.

Couching work on the upper sleeves.

A closeup on the couched loops and brick stitch. This is not “German brick stitch” which is a canvaswork technique, it’s couching brick stitch, which is easy and very neat-looking.

Here’s the brustfleck, where I couched a pattern from Hans Hofer’s Formbuchlein. I don’t know if any of the patterns in there with what looks like interwoven strands was ever meant to be couched or just embroidered, but they lend themselves wonderfully to couching.

In addition, I made her a snood to go with the outfit, and learned how to do herringbone stitch on it. This was my Athena’s Thimble competency in needle lace – it’s really not a technique I know at all, but I went to a class on herringbone lace insertion, and was able to follow enough to make some, and then practiced on this snood. It’s a bit wrinkled, but hopefully you can make out the stitching.

I put a gold thread down the middle of the herringbone lace, and put in some chain stitch to hold the edges in place.

And here is a picture of Brigitte from back when the dress was first made, on her way to Crown Tourney! She said that she felt very snug in her fur-lined partlet and sleeves, and felt sorry for all the women in Middle Eastern garb wandering around shivering.