My new treasure

The box was big, but light--and not addressed to me. 

Mudag, Liz Balfour (Photo: Liz Balfour)

Even the postwoman remarked how light the large box was. And from the U.K.? M hadn't mentioned ordering anything, especially something from overseas. I suppose I should have been a little suspicious when M said, "You open it." But I wasn't. 

And all the better for a complete surprise! It was a mudag!

If you have been following this blog, you will have seen my photo of a mudag at the National Museum of Scotland (NMS). I loved the simple and practical woven willow basket made for storing wool for spinning at first sight.

I confess that I was so taken with the unusual basket that I considered trimming branches from a weeping willow tree that had been downed in July's storm. Some common sense prevailed because I didn't. That is certainly because I am not a basketmaker--and not because I wouldn't like to be. I must set some limits on my omnivorous approach to fiber arts. 

Knowing how much I had admired the basket and a little concerned that I might carry through on my 'thinking out loud' and carry my pruning shears down the road, he secretly started researching the baskets. 

For one, they're known as mudags. According to Woven Communities of Scotland, they are also known as muirlags, mulags, crealaghs or craidhleag. The one in the NMS, which was  labeled only as a wool basket, was collected on the Isle of Skye in the Inner Hebrides where it was known as a crealagh. What is known about the baskets is described in more detail here. 

M also found Liz Balfour, a basketmaker in East Lothian, Scotland. One of the founders of the Scottish Basketmakers Circle, she says, "The Museum basket was the one I copied originally many years ago but I have seen quite a few since then. They are rare and only a few survive in museums." 

God's Eye on each end of the
mudag (Photo: Liz Balfour)

Besides the fact that mudags were woven for utility rather than for beauty or artistic expression, there is speculation that few have survived intact because the basket was often kept near the fire to keep the wool warm and easier to work. Some surviving baskets are burnt on one side.

M commissioned Ms. Balfour to make a mudag for me as an anniversary gift. (It soon will be 48 years.) 

A handcrafted treasure

Resources indicate that most modern mudags are based on the photograph and dimensions of the mudag collected by Dr. Evelyn Baxter on the Isle of Skye and recorded by Dorothy Wright's in her book, "The Complete Book of Baskets and Basketry." Mine is about the same size she records: 19.5" long, 12" diameter with an opening of 6.5" x 5.5," but differs slightly with its God's Eye on each end. There are no feet so, ostensibly, it can roll. But it doesn't. It just sits beautifully by my feet.

Spinning from my mudag

In retrospect, I'm glad I didn't try this on my own. For one, the willow used in the baskets isn't from the tree, but from a shrubbier species. One U.S. basketmaker grows 60 varieties of the genus Salix, but none look like the tree. Makes perfect sense. For another, mudags are  difficult to make even for experienced basketmakers. One unidentified basketmaker recounts her experience recreating one for the Highland Folk Museum. 

I am delighted to have such a beautifully crafted mudag--and grateful to have a husband who so thoughtfully supports--indeed, feeds!--my love of unique and beautiful handcrafts. My mudag is full of wool roving--so I depart somewhat from the traditional storage of fleece or rolags. Rewarding as carding wool and making rolags may be, it's time consuming. And since my list of 'want-to-do's' is long, I need to take some shortcuts.

Afternoon at the museum

Celtic brooch

Inspiration and awe

On our last full day in Scotland, we returned to Edinburgh and spent the afternoon at the National Museum of Scotland. With limited time, we restricted our visit to the Scottish History and Archaeology wing. With a museum guide, time from the Palaeolithic era to the present day was compressed to fewer than two hours. 

The museum is exceedingly well laid-out and the artifacts, well-displayed. We lingered after the guided tour that compressed the time from the Palaeolithic era to the present day into fewer than two hours. 

I especially treasure museum visits as they almost always provide sources of inspiration. It may be color, line, texture, design--I never know what it will be. But I know that it is almost always there. I just need to slow down and drink in what surrounds me. 

Old designs, modern form and function

Iron Age gold torc

There is a beautiful display of jewelry made by the Early People, so named because they left no written history and little is known about them. Among my favorites were the recently discovered Iron Age gold neck ornaments (torcs) (left) and the Celtic brooch pin (above right).

The torc is spectacular and its design, timeless. The museum obviously thinks so, too. The gift shop has beautiful replicas for sale. 

Woven willow wool basket

I also especially liked the woven willow wool basket, made on the Isle of Skye. Functional and beautiful. And perfect for storing wool to be spun. 

(I keep trying to maintain some focus, but just maybe I do need to try my hand at basketry, after all.)

Industrial archeology

Jacquard loom cards

We also spent a lot of time in the galleries of historic textile equipment. All the machines I have heard of were there--and more. Many are original, but some are scaled down models of the originals. It is quite an impressive collection.

There is a loom like the one at the Weaver's Cottage and there is a Jacquard loom, a mechanical loom that enabled weavers to produce complex patterns such as brocades and damask--and those for paisley shawls. The loom is controlled by a series of punched cards, which are laced together in a continuous sequence. Don't they remind you of early computer punch cards? 

A young Chinese-American couple was also visiting. He works in the textile import business and showed us a photo of the machine in his factory in China that produces textiles. It was nearly identical to the Jacquard loom in the display.

I was also drawn to the beetling engine, mostly because I'd never heard of such a thing. The huge machine was used to soften linen thread and also to add the 'glaze' finish on quality woven linens. Note the hooks for holding--and twisting--linen threads on the bottom left. I can only imagine the noise it would make pounding the material. 

Beetling engine

The museum is a must-see for anyone interested--even a little bit--in Scotland, its history and its people. 

Time travel in Kilbarchan

The Weaver's Cottage imparts a proud history of people and their craft

The Weaver's Cottage, Kilbarchan

Glasgow had long been on my bucket list and although we traveled extensively throughout the U.K. during the years we lived in London, we'd never been there. I wanted to see more  of the work of Charles Rennie Macintosh, but I was also interested in the area as it once was a major weaving center.

Call me a fiber art aficionado, a fiber geek, or just plain curious, I love well-crafted textiles. In addition to simply admiring them, I want to understand who made them and how they're made--whether they were made last week or 1,000 years ago. 

I own some wonderful textiles and love to wear them. Many were special gifts. Among them is an antique paisley shawl, which was surely made in Paisley and accompanied a Scot or English woman immigrating to America many years ago.

Paisley, the center of paisley shawl production, is near Glasgow, but that industry is long gone. However, a little further west in Kilbarchan the National Trust for Scotland has preserved a  The Weaver's Cottage much as it was 200 years ago.

There are plenty of period homes of the rich and famous, but few that offer as pure a view  into the lives of ordinary people as the Weaver's Cottage does. No kitsch. No sugar-coating. 

Some of the Cottage's tartan samples

The cottage was built in 1723 and lived in continuously until 1953. The National Trust acquired it the following next year. Some of the furnishings, including samplers, belonged to the family. The steep stairs and hollowed out floors bear witness to many footsteps over many years.

The loom, which is in the lower level, is not original to the house as the last resident had closed off the space allowing the loom to deteriorate beyond repair. In 1957, the loom of one of the last weavers in the village, William Meikle, was moved to the cottage. In the mid-20th century, Meikle wove most of the tartan samples in Cottage's collection, which fill many drawers like the one above.

Industrialization and market forces take a toll

Kilbarchan was the center of weaving for nearly 200 years. According to Weaver's Cottage history, the peak was in the 1830s when there were 800 handlooms in the community. When power looms in nearby towns undercut the Kilbarchan handweavers market, the weavers turned to plaids and tartans. Even so, by the 1930s, only 20 handlooms remained in the village.

The 200-year old loom in the Weaver's Cottage

Note the floor cut away for the treadles

I found the cottage remarkable. I appreciated the yarn-related equipment throughout the house--yarn swifts, skein winders, and spinning wheels, both big and small--but I loved the big, hulking, old four harness fly-shuttle loom. It isn't fancy, nor does it appear to be any more than what it is--a functional workhorse. The loom was made for production weaving and its owners used what was at hand to keep it in working order. I particularly liked the curling stone weights. 

The ceiling is low. To accommodate the loom, a space was dug in the floor to accommodate depressed treadles--a common practice for cellar looms.

I also enjoyed talking to Christine MacLeod, manager of the property, who provided a wealth of information. A Kilbarchan native, her primary interest is historical textiles. In the garden in back grows madder, dyer's greenweed, rhubarb, and woad, among others, for dyeing. And I envied her her job.

The day we visited, Ms. MacLeod had a Black Watch pattern on the loom. She is also is a designer. Her recently designed Battle of Bannockburn tartan commemorates the 700th anniversary of the battle and is a beauty. She uses Gardiner Yarns for her historical weaving. 

Teaching is also a function of the Weaver's Cottage, so a modern Louet loom is set up opposite the old loom for interested visitors to try their hand at weaving. That loom is set up with wool from New Lanark Wool & Textiles mill where the yarn is still spun in one of the historic mills from organic British wool by traditional methods. All proceeds from the sale of their yarns go toward care and development of the New Lanark World Heritage Site.

Unpretentious and personal

From the bedrooms to the garden to the loom room, this cottage does not aspire to greatness. And yet, 'great' is exactly how I would describe it--at least for me. It was a home of people--people with names and faces. In fact, at one time, it was three cottages. And It included a workroom that provided a living for families. It is as close to 'tasting the time' as I can get.

And there is another aspect to the visit that will stay with us. The volunteers at the property are not only informative and committed, they go beyond usual volunteerism. Thank you, David Baillie, for so kindly and graciously helping us get back to Glasgow. 

Warping board & woven items in the loom room

By rail across Scotland's Western Highlands

The West Highland Line and The Jacobite steam train

The Jacobite Steam Train, Fort William, Scotland

You may remember that we structured our trip around seat availability on the Jacobite steam train. Thursday was our only option, which gave us  two more days in Edinburgh. Yes to the Edinburgh Castle. No to the Palace of Holyroodhouse (It was closed). But yes to the Queen's Gallery. Yes to the Royal Botanic Gardens. And yes to haggis.

l love train travel, especially on European trains. And ScotRail did not disappoint--neither on the short runs between  Edinburgh and Glasgow--about an hour--nor the nearly four hour trip between Glasgow and Fort William.

We traveled on two outstanding, world-class rail journeys. First, the West Highland Line. Consistently voted one of the great railway journeys of the world, it travels north to Oban and Maillaig. The train divides at Crianlarich, where part of the coaches go west to Oban and the others continue north to Fort William--our destination--and to its end point, Maillaig. 

Corrour, Scotland

As the train's wheels clickety-clacked over the jointed rail tracks, we drank in the spectacular scenery and marveled at the engineering feat of laying the rail lines across this isolated section of Scotland. 

After the gigantic horseshoe curve (the builders lacked funds to build a viaduct), the train travels across Rannoch Moor where the rails 'float' across a peat bog. I felt as if I were  traveling across a bridge, as, in a sense, we were.

The moor is bleak and Corrrour railway station, one of the most remote stations in the U.K. Inaccessible by public roads, it is  a popular starting point for hill-walkers on the West Highland Way and for Munro-baggers.

Railway buffs, Harry Potter fans, and all the rest of us

Champagne awaited us!

The Jacobite steam train operates in summer from Fort William north to the small port town of Maillag, a distance of 41 miles and a trip of spectacular beauty. Named one of the great railway journeys of the world, the trip begins near Ben Nevis, Britain's highest mountain, and passes both freshwater and sea lochs--Loch Moror and Loch Nevis--to the small fishing and ferry town of Maillaig.

The day was spectacular, as well. No rain! No clouds! And warm! And we had champagne. The week before, when we hurriedly booked the train, we were feeling a bit sorry for ourselves due to the last minute change of plans, so we ordered champagne for the trip. It was waiting at our seats when we arrived. Lovely.

Glenfinnan Viaduct, Lochaber, Scotland

Harry Potter fans will know that the Jacobite's owner/operator provided the train used as the Hogwarts Express as well as the route for the Harry Potter movies. We had fans in our coach on the return trip and when the train crossed the Glenfinnan Viaduct near Loch Shiel, they jumped up out of their seats to sing, "We're crossing over the bridge." What fun! 

It's easy to be sentimental about steam trains, but the return journey was a reminder that they are exceedingly dirty beasts. As the day was warm, the upper windows were open. Soot and small bits of coal soon followed.

But what's little bit of soot on a grand rail journey? Absolutely inconsequential! (Besides, I wore black, so who could tell?) 

Lochailort, Scotland

Finding the Stirling unicorn

Tapestry above the fireplace, Queen's Inner Hall, Stirling Castle

The Stirling Castle tapestries

The original itinerary to the cruise-that-didn't-happen included an excursion to Stirling Castle, which is about an hour by train from Edinburgh. The castle wasn't my primary goal. I wanted to see the set of seven  recently completed tapestries that now hang in the Queen’s Inner Hall in the Royal Palace. 

I appreciate tapestries much as I appreciate any great art. I've tried my hand and have woven tapestries, but I'm no tapestry weaver. There is a difference. A big difference.  

The Stirling Castle project is part of a master plan to furnish the castle as it would have been in the 16th century. Two inventories of goods--1539 and 1561--list two sets of "unicorne" tapestries belonging to James V of Scotland. After 1578, when the inventory lists only four pieces, the tapestries disappear from recorded history.

Tapestries, Queen's Inner Hall, Stirling Castle

The Stirling Castle tapestry project, which was commissioned by Historic Scotland and managed by West Dean College in West Sussex, tapped the college's West Dean Tapestry Studio and its master weavers. One of only a handful of remaining tapestry studios worldwide, the Studio specializes in using heritage techniques in contemporary design. 

I know of two remaining sets of unicorn tapestries--in Paris (Musée de Cluny) and in New York at the Cloisters Museum of the Metropolitan Museum of Art (Met). Both are stunning and well worth a visit.

The project's leaders considered the Met's "Hunt of the Unicorn,"  ca. 1495 to 1505, "one of the most majestic surviving sets" and developed a collaborative working relationship with that museum to research medieval techniques, materials and colors. 

Tapestries, Queen's Inner Hall, Stirling Castle

The project launched in 2001 and two teams of three or four weavers began work in 2002. They wove in concurrently over 13 years. Nearly 20 weavers from Scotland, England, United States, Canada, Japan and Australia worked on the project, which was guided by West Dean's Master Weavers. The college-based team in the south of England completed the first three tapestries. The remaining four were woven in a purpose-built studio in the castle's Nether Bailey.

At the beginning, the task seemed enormous. The description of the path described by West Dean Studio Director Caron Penney captures the sense of remaining true to the historical essence while interpreting the scenes from an artistic perspective. She describes it as, 

Weaver at work (mock-up)

"akin to walking in virgin show with one track running through it. You set out not wanting to break into another path however stepping into another's footprints is quite hard. You need to tread your own path as best you can; eventually you find the confidence to break free and find your own route."

The materials and techniques

Materials. The tapestries are 90 percent wool with gold metallic threads and mercerized cotton also used in the weft. The warp is cotton. All the yarn was specially dyed at West Dean. 

Wool, weaving studio, Stirling Castle

Techniques. Using 16th century weaving techniques, the weavers used hatching, hachures, demi-duite, and slits--techniques not commonly used in current tapestry weaving. Like the originals, the tapestries were woven sideways.

Although the looms, tools, and most of the weaving materials and techniques were the same as those used in the 16th century, there are some differences between the Cloister tapestries and those woven for Stirling Castle.

• Warp ends per centimeter (epc). The Cloister tapestries have about seven epc. The project's tapestries are warped at four epc.
• Weft. The project substituted mercerized cotton, which is more durable and preserves its color better than the silk used in the Cloister tapestries.
• Color palette. The wool yarn was dyed using modern chemical dyes, whereas the yarns used in the historic tapestries would have been dyed with natural dyes from plants, invertebrates, or minerals.
• Weavers wove facing the front of the tapestry, rather than from the back as in traditional Gobelin weaving. 

This completed project is quite remarkable and well worth a trip to see the tapestries hung as they would have been. But if travel to Scotland is outside your plans, Stirling Castle and the West Dean Tapestry Studio have a wealth of information about the history, the techniques, and the weavers on their web sites.

Some weavers shared their favorite scenes, weaving studio, Stirling Castle

The Edinburgh Ceilidh

Gaelic and Scots music and the song that solved the riddle

The overnight flight from Newark arrived in Edinburgh in the morning. We slept a couple of hours before visiting the Royal Yacht Britannia where we had afternoon tea. Getting there by taxi was simple. Getting back from the Ocean Terminal was another matter. When we couldn't get a taxi,* we decided to take a bus. We only had a general sense of where we were going and realized too late that we had passed a stop convenient to our hotel. 

It was a serendipitous mistake, and one I'm glad we made.

As we walked, we passed a notice posted on the iron railing outside St. John the Evangelist church on Princes Street. Advertised as "Gaelic and Scots music and song" and sponsored by the Edinburgh Argyll Association, it was far more than interesting. It was an event that sent shivers up my spine and made connections to a past I had never understood.

We had time before the ceilidh so we dined nearby at Kyloe, where the food was excellent. Oysters and trout from Loch Etive, near Oban, and scallops from the Isle of Skye.

We went to the ceilidh prepared to leave at the break, but that was not to be. As we entered the church hall, we felt the ghosts of people and a community we had known and loved so well at St. Mary's Primrose Hill in London. The hall looked and felt so similar. Some of the people, too. Even the raffle and the tea and baked goods being readied for the break.

The notice on the rail had invited us to "sit down and enjoy the friendly welcome." We did. And we didn't leave until the very end.

We were guests at the "ceilidh" (pronounced kay’lee), which Tom, the master of ceremonies, explained to the 50-odd present was a visit, a get-together more than a concert. It was a place to share Scottish songs, stories, and dance. The similarity of the ceilidh to the '50's-era community socials in the rural area of Ohio where I grew up was striking. Food, music, socializing and dancing--both round and square.

This ceilidh, which featured music for listening and dancing by Alexander Sime-Scott on the highland pipes (above); Linda Campbell on the accordion and Debbie Davidson on the fiddle (below); and Bob Murray singing Scots songs. Anybody could participate--and many did. And to accompany the tunes were tapping hands and feet, dancing and sing-alongs. The "Yellow on the Broom," in particular, had a strong, unified chorus.

The dancing, too, was a delight to watch. I particularly liked the last couple that joined in. Watch their feet. They've been married 62 years, he told me. 

The music swept over and through me, but Bob Murray's songs touched me deepest. His first song, a kind of ballad, reached out, unwrapped memories, and transported me back to the bedside of my grandfather McCormick. He and I were very close. When he had his first stroke I was 16 and he, 86. His mind was clear--at least for a short time--and during my visits with him, he recited long songs. Songs I had never heard. Songs that told stories. 

My grandfather's story songs were like those Bob Murray now sang. I had never understood what he was sharing with me. Now I know it was Scottish ballads.

This local ceilidh was a highlight that never would have been on a tour itinerary. In fact, a large tour group would probably overwhelm and spoil the personal nature of the event. But if you're in Edinburgh on July 26, September 6 or 27, and are interested in Scottish heritage and music, I highly recommend that you make plans to spend a Saturday evening (7:30 to 10 p.m.) with the Edinburgh Argyll Association at St. John's church on Princes Street. They will welcome you. 

And if you go, please give them my best regards.


*Strangely (to us), hailing cabs is not the order in the two Scottish cities we visited. Rather, taxis wait at a taxi stand for riders to find them OR you call them on your mobile. 

Change of plans

The cruise company went bust. We went to Scotland anyway.

We celebrated our vacation with dinner the night before our planned departure. Our trip had been booked nine months prior, at which time M. was having trouble walking any distance. 

Thinking that this could be our last trip to Europe, the 10-day excursion on a small boat through Scotland's lochs and waterways looked good. No, it looked great. A Boston Globe review was enticing and the boat was a beauty. M, concerned that he might not be able to take part in the shore trips, could sit them out in nice surroundings. (Fortunately, he can now walk much, much better.)

We went to dinner early, trying to move toward U.K. time. It was 5:30 p.m. when the phone call came. The trip had been cancelled.

We had purchased our own air tickets, so it made sense to keep moving. With less than 24 hours to regroup, we packed carry-ons and started thinking about how to make the most of the 10 days in Scotland. In the midst of researching options, our son called with a brilliant suggestion: Why not ride The West Highland Line and The Jacobite trains, both billed as great railway journeys of the world? Bingo! We had an anchor.

We built our itinerary around The Jacobite, which only had available seats on the following Thursday. We booked them. Our friend booked us into a hotel she knew in Edinburgh for two nights. That gave us a little time to plan. 

While having a pre-boarding snack at the airport, we received an email from the CEO of the travel company, expressing regret and offering us the choice of a full refund or a rebooking. I called immediately to request a full refund, including the cost of the travel insurance. I was assured we would have our refund within 30 days.

Bufala mozzarella w/pesto

(A shout out to the Oeno Wine Bar at Terminal C at Newark Liberty for both food and the service. We had the best airport food ever. M. had shrimp--delicious and BIG. I had the bufala mozzarella with pesto and almonds--accompanied by a Negroni.)

Trying to piece together the source of the cancellation, I had spent some time on social media the night before, starting what would become a very active thread on TripAdvisor. No one knew more than we did, which was nothing. Because the company was unresponsive, I suspected bad news. Unfortunately, that suspicion would prove correct. The company filed for Chapter 11 the next week while we were away.

As for our itinerary, the final plan is below. For those of you who identify me with Excel spreadsheets, do note that this doesn't take advantage of that software's robust capabilities. Nay, this plan was plotted in pencil, which could be--and was--erased and changed as plans solidified.

This was a great trip! And because I promised that I would provide details on this trip, this is the first--the introduction, if you will. Follow me over the next few days for the highlights.

10 days in Scotland, May 2015