A rhino in Kenya’s Lake Nakuru National Park photographed by William Rounds. Indeed not fabric, but inspiration for the wonderful prints and colors you’ll see in this post.
As you’ll recall in my last post, Paula Benjaminson who lives Libreville, Gabon shared some of her fabric shopping experiences in the markets of West Africa. Today she’ll give us a perspective on the types of fabrics that are made in Africa. The post is yours Paula . . . uh-oh, forgot a couple of details . . . make sure you scroll all the way to the bottom for the name of the winner of Paula’s bundle of African prints and for the details of our special exhibit of African quilts in the See How We Sew Gallery opening this coming Friday.
The African continent has a long history of producing high-quality, museum-worthy textiles. If you spend just ten seconds looking up kente cloth, bogolanfini (mud cloth), or kuba cloth on Google Images, you’ll be dazzled by the beauty and variety of just these first three examples of African textiles, and there are many, many more. As a quilter, though, you probably wouldn’t find yourself cutting up those prints for a Nine-Patch block. I mostly use West African wax prints, batiks, and hand-dyes in my quilts, all of which are well suited for quilting, although the colors and scale of the prints might be a bit of an adjustment.
Wax prints came to the continent through the efforts of European colonizing nations to sell their machine-made imitations of Indonesian batiks in the African market. Flaws in the process of copying the batik style, which made these fabrics unappealing in Indonesia, became must-have variations that were very popular in African countries. Excessive cracking of the resist (resin in place of wax), and problems registering secondary colors in the printing process which led to slight overlapping of colors, are considered hallmarks of this fabric style. Despite printing advances which could easily eliminate these “problems,” popular demand requires that wax prints retain these quirky bits of personality. Nowadays these fabrics are made in several countries, including cheaper copies made in China for the African market. Some of my favorites are from Senegal, Ivory Coast, and Ghana.
One of the most fun things about these prints is that their scale is often so large that you hate to cut them up because the 11-inch tall giraffe, 10-inch tall women, or 15-inch tall Korhogo figures will be lost!
African batiks are made in basically the same way as Indonesian batiks, with a pattern laid on cloth with wax and then over dyed, but the African patterns used are quite different. Geometric designs are more common than florals or botanicals, and the wax is most often applied using stamps carved by the artist from gourds or wood as opposed to the intricate metal tjaps traditionally used in Indonesia.
Many of my favorite batiks are made in Ghana, a country with an incredibly rich textile tradition. The Adinkra symbols used in many of the Ghanaian batiks carry messages weighted with cultural history. The yellow symbol on the green background below is the symbol Nyame dua meaning the altar or the tree of God, representing God’s presence and protection. The green symbol on the ochre background below is the symbol Gye Nyame meaning “except God,” representing the omnipotence and immortality of God.
If you ask me, hand-dyed African fabrics are pretty much irresistible. You might already be familiar with traditional (and gorgeous) indigo fabrics, which are made from white cloth tied up with hundreds of tiny stitches to help resist the blue dye.
Other fabrics have been dyed using patterned brocade as a base. So, in addition to the design from the dye, there is also an underlying pattern from the weave visible when the cloth is turned to catch the light. This gives the fabric a depth that rewards closer look. In these two photos, you can see the pattern of the brocade under the dye:
Sometimes these beautiful hand-dyed pieces are sold paired with coordinating solid brocades, ready to be used as a skirt or trim for a garment made with the more flamboyant partner.
I also find home decor fabrics here that I like—check out the photo of my favorites. A company called Woodin in Ivory Coast is the manufacturer. They make excellent bags as you can see!
Many of these bold, striking, and dynamic fabrics are routinely used in clothing, which leads to a big problem for me. I often see someone wearing a shirt or a dress that is made from a fabric that I love and it’s a struggle to resist hitting the brakes, pulling over, and begging these unsuspecting people to sell me their clothing! I should be required to put a sign on my car that says “Warning: fabriholic in vehicle—-your clothing is at risk!” I admit that I have serious fabric envy whenever I go out. I’m not looking for a ten-step program though—who wants to be cured? It’s better to go shopping!
I’ll leave you with a couple photos of quilts made with African fabrics. The first is a quilt my students and I made in Ouagadougou for a raffle, which features motifs fussy cut from a delicious pile of prints.
This second quilt, “Susuwe,” is mine. I combined many African fabrics with focus fabrics I printed using hand-carved wooden blocks from Namibia. In many ways, this quilt is really a collaboration between me and my friends who carve these fantastic pieces of art. Paula B.
Giveaway Winner and Gallery Opening
The winner of the giveaway is Laurie Spear who has a special charitable connection to a village in Zimbabwe. Congratulations Laurie! My blogging sister Christie is “sweetening the pot” by adding her Block Party pattern to Laurie’s prize. You’ll have to check my Friday post to see why I asked Christie for her contribution. Turns out that Block Party is a fantastic design for a scrappy African quilt.
Paula and I had so much fun collaborating on this series of posts on African fabric that we decided to celebrate with an exhibition of quilts made in Africa, sewn with African prints, or designed with African themes in the See How We Sew Gallery.
Join us on Friday!