JOURNAL

Mahogany leaves Swietenia macrophylla have been traditionally used as a natural dye source in Southeast Asia and parts of Central and South America. The leaves contain tannins and other plant compounds that produce earthy hues, often ranging from soft browns to reddish tones. Indigenous communities historically used mahogany leaf dye for coloring textiles, baskets, and even as a natural ink. Traditionally, the leaves are collected, dried, and boiled to extract the dye, with fabric or substrate then soaked in the solution to absorb the color. This process may be repeated or modified with natural mordants to deepen or shift the hue. 

Christina (with Momo) wears the Colorant Bruce Cardigan and Pants dyed with Catappa Leaves.

How do you decide which culturally significant crops to grow each season?

Some of what we grow is based on what I grew up eating and what I like to cook and eat, but a lot of our crop plan is shaped by members of our community and the plants they hold dear. There is a heavy Chinese Cantonese culinary influence because that is what I grew up with, and our farm has grown to include a lot of Korean vegetables and herbs that my crew members and CSA members have taught me about.  It is so important to me that we grow food that is recognizable and beloved by numerous members of the Asian diaspora and to celebrate the culinary and cultural diversity that exists within that. Some of our favorite crops on the farm include head mustard, ping tung eggplant, gai lan, flat cabbage, kkaenip, thai holy basil, and watercress.

What moment made you feel like the farm was truly making a difference?

There are a lot of different points in time where I felt like the farm was truly making a difference, and I could answer this in so many ways.  But for me, its not about the big things, but the small ways we have impacted individual lives.  One CSA member shared that their mother was in love with our vegetables and hadn’t tasted some of these flavors since they were children in Korea.  Another friend was brought their grandparents to visit the farm and breathe in the aroma of kkaenip as it rustled in the wind and pick gochu and napa for their kimchi.  It’s these moments that really ground the farm’s purpose to bring us together in community through food and land.  Another way in which we feel the difference the farm has made is in our mutual aid efforts.  We work directly with a pantry in the West Village that serves Chinese elders and the Reverend has shared with us that the culturally relevant vegetables we provide have brought so much joy, excitement, and laughter to their pantry clientele.  It has been such a privilege to be able to know our food is going to those who need it most.

What are the biggest challenges you've faced farming this way?

The biggest challenge that I, and all small scale organic farmers face, is climate change. This spring has been particularly brutal with the constant rain.  The best growing conditions have everything in moderation- we want some sunshine, some rain, some heat, some cool weather.  The constant cloudy and wet weather has turned some of our fields into lakes and the plants struggle to grow without any sunlight.  The excessive moisture is an excellent breeding ground of insect pests and disease.  Of course then we are hit with a three day heatwave, roasting both the farmers and plants.  The lack of predictability in weather makes each season riskier as we just don’t know which of our crops will make it and which won’t.  In the six years I’ve owned and managed my own farm, no two years have been the same, and we are constantly adapting our plans each day dependent on the weather.

https://www.choydivision.com/
@choydivision

Laura Sansone of New York Textile Lab, wears the Colorant Ellis Shirt in Mallorca and Bronwyn Dress in Guava at her home and dye garden in Putnam Valley, NY.

Marigold (Tagetes) has a long and rich history as a natural dye, valued for its vibrant gold-yellow to orange hues. Indigenous to Central and South America, marigold flowers were cultivated by the Aztecs, who used the plant not only for ornamental and medicinal purposes but also as a dye source. The bright pigments extracted from marigold petals, primarily caretenoids like lutein, were used to color textiles, particularly in ceremonial and festive garments.

Tell us about your childhood and how did it inspire your work in textiles? I grew up on Long Island in the 70's and 80's. My Dad was a collage artist. His work was very intricate, made up of tiny cut pieces of paper that he would layer or tiny gears and springs from watches and clocks that he would arrange into patterns. His artwork often resembled textiles through color and pattern. I would help him all the time, mainly sorting and organizing lots of collage materials at his drafting table. I think this taught me the patience required to engage in detailed, process oriented handcrafting work. I was heavily influenced by my Dad.
 
Who has been an inspiration for you? I recently pulled out from storage, a hand crocheted blanket that my Grandma made for me in the 1970's. She made it with wool and acrylic yarn scraps. She has always been a big inspiration for me. She was a professional seamstress and she made me clothes and taught me how to sew and crochet at a very young age. I loved looking through her sewing table and all her supplies. One Christmas, my parents bought me a used Singer sewing machine. I was quite small, and it felt like a real grown up gift. The present that year from my Grandma was a sewing basket with lots of supplies in it. She helped me make some pillows for my dolls that winter. I still think about her when I work in my studio. She really influenced me.
 
What are the benefits of using climate beneficial wool and how does it tie into regenerative farming? Climate Beneficial™ is a regenerative farming verification that was founded by the nonprofit organization Fibershed in Northern CA. Climate Beneficial™ is a holistic land management program, a verification and a label for the industry. This verification connects brands directly to farms and ranches creating transparency, traceability and trust along their value chain. The climate beneficial program enables brands to internalize the cost of extracting from the land by supporting carbon farming practices, which are protocols that store carbon back in the soil and plant matter. Carbon farm practices are specific to each individual farm and include things like rotational grazing, cover cropping, not till farming, and composting, to name a few. The Climate Beneficial™ Verification is a program modeled from Earth's carbon cycle, which is the most basic, natural system of circularity and reciprocity.
 
What materials do you like to work with and how do you choose them? I only work with natural materials. I also choose to work with materials that are a part of the Climate Beneficial™ program. Mainly these yarns and textiles are wool, cotton and alpaca blends. Here in NYS, I am a founding member of the Carbon Farm Network cooperative, a group of small brands who work together to make yarn from fibers that are sourced in NYS and grown using Carbon Farming protocols. The membership fees of our cooperative drive funds back into Carbon Farming on our partnering farms.
 
Do you teach others about sustainable practices in textiles? What's that experience like? I teach a course at Parsons School of Design called Community Supported Textiles. This course addresses bioregional textile production through the use of locally sourced yarns, textiles and natural dyes. My teaching also focuses on building new models for our clothing and textile production systems by shifting from linear, extractive growth models to circular models that are more closely aligned with natural systems. In addition to teaching at Parsons, I consult with designers and teach workshops. It's important for me to share knowledge and raise awareness about the problems that plague our clothing and textile systems. I hope that humans will shift our production and consumption habits away from models that support extraction and exploitation and toward models that foster a collective stewardship for the land, animals and people in our clothing and textile systems. This can only happen when we change our relationship to what we value and internalize the costs of what we make and consume.
 
Where have you traveled and how has it influenced your textiles research? I've traveled to the Republic of Georgia, Haiti, and Milan to work on textile related projects. The most influential trip for me was Norway though, where I traveled from Bergen up north to the Lofoten Islands to experience their regional fiber and textiles. I got to visit several mills, and manufacturers and learned about the wool tradition there. I also learned about the country's heritage sheep that date back to the age of the Viking people. This experience really influenced me and deepened my desire to build bioregional textile systems here in NYS.
 
Do you have any future projects you are excited about? I'm excited about growing our Carbon Farm Network, a cooperative and distributed economic model that brings climate beneficial fiber to market. Our cooperative is a slow growth business model, where designers who make more yarn pay more into the membership fee, which goes back into the land conservation on our partnering farms. The more you take from the land, the more you need to give back (reciprocate). Typically, clothing and textile businesses are structured in a way where they are encouraged to make more, so the price point will come down (efficiencies of scale). This leads to "growthism" and over extraction and over consumption. I love working cooperatively and making decisions together with other designers while together, supporting our wool and alpaca growers.

www.newyorktextilelab.com
@nytextilelab

Bianca Kuttickattu, Designer, wears the Colorant Serres Shirt and Lolani pants in Indigo at her cottage in Mountaindale, NY.

Indian Almond Leaf (Terminalia catappa) aka Catappa Leaf, is a tropical tree known for large, glossy leaves native to the Indian subcontinent. Part of a vast eco-system, fallen Catappa leaves provide a source of food, regulate water Ph, and even act as an anti-fungal for aquatic life. The leaves are heavy in tannins, natural compounds that can be extracted and have been used to create natural dyes that yield warm earthy tones to deep shades of brown and black.

What is the origin story of Namai and how does zero waste factor into your production? All of our repurposed Kantha textile pieces are zero waste. With the scraps from the adults jackets we make kids jackets, tote bags, and small pouches. The fabrics are precious and we make sure nothing is wasted.

What inspires you and how does it influence your design process? I’m inspired by art, interiors, travel, and nature. These don’t filter into my designs in a direct way, but they keep me feeling creative in different ways. Being in nature helps me unwind, so that stress and fatigue doesn’t cause burnout and hamper my creativity. Going to art exhibitions is something I need to do regularly, to absorb colors and compositions, and textures. I think the choices I make in colors and textiles unconsciously reflect my taste in art and culture, and sometimes I can trace it backwards after the product is finished, for example, I’m always drawn to vintage quilts with spots on them, because they remind me of Yayoi Kusama, and I’m always inspired by the colors and textures of Sam Gilliam, Rothko, Matisse, and Helen Frankenthaler, to name a few.

Where do you like to visit and travel to in the future? My favorite places to visit are places I have never been to before! I’m always drawn to places that have a strong art and craft culture, because it’s inspiring to learn and discover new things. Having said that, I adore Italy, it’s my favorite vacation place (that I’ve been to so far!) and traveling to India is always deeply inspiring and creative, I am trailing to India in a week to meet with artisans, and I can’t wait!

Who wears Namai and do you have any current muses? The people that wear Namai want to express who they are on the inside, and they aren’t afraid of standing out. They share a love of rare textiles and value individuality, creativity and unique expression. I’m constantly inspired when I meet people at markets and in person events, that choose a piece that represents who they are, it’s why I love what I do. My muse is a free spirited, color loving creative soul who is in harmony with who they are, and lives life on their own terms.

https://namai-studio.com/
@namai_studio

Kimmy Quillin, Artist, wears the Colorant Unison Jacket, 6-plant Space Knit pants and Colorant Mezzo Crew in Cacao in her studio in Brooklyn, NY.

Indonesian sappanwood (Caesalpinia sappan) is a tropical tree native to Southeast Asia. It is highly valued for its vibrant red dye, which produces a deep red color that has been used for centuries for textile dyeing, batik printing, and traditional medicine. The process of extracting this dye is a meticulous and time-consuming endeavor. It begins by harvesting mature sappanwood trees and cutting them into small pieces. The pieces are boiled in water to release the dye compounds present in the heartwood. The resulting liquid is strained and concentrated to obtain a rich, red colorant that can be shifted to pinks, oranges and browns depending on what mordant is used.

What are your current motivators and inspiration?
Inspiration is my favorite mood enhancer. Right now I am visiting and revisiting the Ruth Asawa drawings exhibit “Through Line” at the Whitney, as well as Judy Chicago’s “Herstory” at the New Museum. Both of these women worked their tails off throughout their entire lives and created an astonishing amount over many decades. Ruth Asawa is the queen of making the most out of the materials around her. If someone gave her a bouquet of flowers, she meticulously drew them into an exquisite work of art. Through her lines, you can tell the exact weight of a flower head hanging off a spindly stem over the edge of a bouquet. Her drawings are full of all the patience in the universe. And I could watch Judy Chicago’s Atmospheres films for days. Between 1968-1974 she set up technicolored smoke shows in the desert with nude women painted monochrome head to toe. The simple premise of them walking forward or interacting with colored smoking flares in that hot place is so simple but so powerful. Every time I see one it’s like, “Damn, YEAH.”
I am also constantly reading (mostly non-fiction, lots of biographies, sometimes exhibition catalogs) and bringing themes from that learning into my work. I currently have from the library the catalog from Hilma af Klint’s show at the Guggenheim “Paintings for the Future.” Judy Chicago’s autobiography is on deck, and Wassily Kandinsky’s Concerning the Spiritual in Art is also in the queue. I also love anything by N.K. Jemisin.

How did your interest in natural dye come about and how have you incorporated it into your work?
I started paying attention to several artists who work with natural pigments around 2020 including Cara Marie Piazza, Amanda Morales, Wild Pigment Project, and the wealth of info distributed by Seattle-based dye company Botanical Colors. In one of her recent newsletters, natural pigment artist and activist Tilke Elkins asked what might change if more artists worked with natural pigments, how the messages they were inspired to send with their work might change and how the art world as a whole might change. She writes, “As a paint maker, I think a lot about the ways in which people currently use (synthetic) paints, and how their practices would change if they moved to waste-stream-sourced paints instead. How much of what they do now would they be able to do using remediated paint materials? How much would they not be able to do, and how would that change the messages they communicate?” In this phase, I find myself drawn to organic shapes in general and have been particularly drawn to the curves and fold of leaves, pine cones and the human body. 
Since June I have been working mostly with reclaimed/foraged dye materials: avocado, black bean and acorn. I use them to dye canvas which has been cut into premeditated shapes. I assemble these into a desired image by hand stitching them back together. Finally, I stretch it as I would a regular canvas. The result is a pseudo-quilted/appliqued canvas in varying dye shades with its seams and handmade-ness exposed. The depth and variation created by the dye are beautiful beyond what I could create by my hand alone.

What are some projects or upcoming bodies of work you are excited about?   In addition to my own art practice, I am excited about writing and talking about the work of others. I had an inspiring conversation recently with artist Colleen Herman and Olympia gallery owner Ali Rossi while sitting on the gallery floor talking through Colleen’s current show. We discussed the concept for the show’s site-specific presentation, which works came slowly or quickly, the dialogue between different pieces, and stretching artistic boundaries. It inspired me to write an essay about it the next day which you can read on my website. Since then I have been planning to turn this into either a written or audio series where artists talk through their current show. It is a strange, significant moment when your most recent body of work is out of your studio and presented to the public, but you aren’t in the room with it every day. This poignant point of release and all the backstory that lead to it are what I want to be in dialogue about.

www.kimmyquillin.com
@kimmyquillin

Megan Offner (R), Ashira Israel (L) and Lindsay Black (C) of New York Heartwoods, wear the Colorant Reversible Denim Jacket,  High Waisted Denim pants and Fantasma Top in their workshop HQ in Accord, NY.

North American Black Walnuts (juglans nigra) have been used for centuries as a natural dye source. The leaves, bark and fruit can be extracted and used to color cloth. Walnut bark was used heavily during the Civil War in dyeing uniforms. Traces of Walnut-dyed garments have been found in the Temple of Pompeii as well as Viking settlements due to their abundance. The concentrated extracts of the hulls of the fruit served as our first writing inks. The heavy tannins make for a strong color source that conditions fibers during the dye process, acting as a softening agent while yielding yellow, orange and brown hues. 

Jean Brennan, Artist, Wears Colorant Hand Painted Jumpsuit in silk charmeuse, brush painted with crushed Cochineal & Fustic natural dyes.

Orsallia, a natural red purple dye, is an extraction from the lichen Umbilicaria which was worn by nobility in Roman times to display wealth, power and status. Women were forbidden to take part in the creation of this dye and ordinary citizens were forbidden to wear it. Ancient recipes include ocean water and urine in the dye process and it was often used in place of the Murex mollusk, a sea shellfish, a source of a similar royal hue but not as easily collected.

Blue.

Describe a typical day of your studio practice.
My day to day varies, from teaching to writing grants to messing around in the studio. Projects often begin with walks and writing, coupled with research about a plant or a place. In my response to site, I’m often weaving in scientific research, historical references, pop culture. Sometimes the relationships with scientists or collaborators, human or non-human, become central to the work. 

Who are you currently inspired by? An eclectic group of women: Amy Franceschini from Future Farmers, Agnes Denes, Helen Mirra, Donna Haraway, Joan Jonas, Rebecca Horn.

While visiting Michigan one summer, I was struck by the endless miles of reforestation, a mesmerizing repetition of red pines flying past the car window. Eventually, I found a location maintained by the University of Michigan Biostation, with little undergrowth save a patchy carpet of spring ferns. I staged a few photos and the seed for 'Performing vowels in the note of blue' was planted. That Fall, I located a similar site in my home state of New York.

'Performing vowels' is a score of non discursive communication filmed with(in) a grove of red pines in the Catskills. Planted by the Civilian Conservation Corps during FDR's New Deal, this century-old stand possesses the uncanny quality of a single species plantation gone wild. Standing among the trees, five women (a,e,i,o,u) perform the vowels through the use of semaphore flags- a signaling system that augments the body to communicate over the distances of land and sea. The movements, like language and the forest, slip between structure and improvisation. In this 8 minute video, looped in a gallery setting, I imagine a form of communication in which the forest plays a role in how we transmit ideas—a ritual of call and response whereby the patterns of movement and non-verbal sound form the phrases of language.

The original action was inspired by research on how trees 'talk' and asks if there are example of human communication that come closer to the way non-humans, such as plants and animals, communicate. That's how I arrived at the idea of using semaphore flags. But in the making of Performing Vowels, all kinds of other meaning began to unfold. For instance, vowels are the breath of language- in a sense they are atmospheric. Vowels are a speech sound that is made with no obstruction of the vocal tract, frictionless and continuant, they are open-throated. The color blue corresponds to the throat chakra and to truth. In Judaism, vowels are associated with god; in Japan, with the mother.

Click to view Performing vowels in the note of blue

Favorite trails to Hike?
Fishkill Ridge, east of Mount Beacon; Mohonk Preserve in the Catskills; and, Mt. Lafayette in the White Mountains.

Describe the process in how you conceived Intergalactic Naval Gazing?

It began with walking, plant identification, and dye research at the Haystack Artist Residency on Deer Isle, Maine (May 2018). Later that summer, on a hike in the Catskills I came across a large rocky outcrop covered with the Umbilicate mammulata lichen, known as rock tripe. In Latin, umbilicate refers to the naval, while mammulata, means small breast. I was drawn to the bodily references, as well as the deep purple dye it yields, called orsallia. A storm had detached and blown lichen bits all over the ground so I was able to gather a good amount. I chopped these up into smaller pieces and placed them in mason jars. The jars, marked either Y.O.U. (your own urine) or A.M. (ammonia method), sat in a window by my dresser. Each morning and evening, I gave the jars a hearty shake - for 4 months. 

All lichen are symbiosis of algae and fungi, an unexpected marriage of producer and de-composer. Using my own bodily fluids, and cohabiting with these jars as they transformed, was a way to enter into this synergy. The dye was ultimately displayed in flame-work glass vessels fabricated by Dan Spitzer from Malfatti Glass according to sketches I made while looking at medical renditions of internal organs. I wrote the essay, Intergalactic Naval Gazing, as an ode to the lichen I foraged.

Liz Spencer, The Dogwood Dyer, prepares an indigo vat in her studio in Brooklyn, NY.

Indigo has been harvested for thousands of years for its rare and natural blue. The leaves of the plant are first fermented then boiled to a reduction that creates a “white bath”. When material is submerged then lifted in the air, it first appears to be a bright yellow then magically turns blue as it oxidizes. Unlike other dyes in which color intensity can be somewhat controlled by soaking time, Indigo differs in that it must be re-dipped repeatedly to achieve deep tones.

What is your favorite color?
This is a tough one…considering that my work demands an appreciation for and understanding of many colors, but I love the aqua blue that results from fresh leaf indigo dyeing on silk. It’s like a Carribean light teal blue or a southwest turquoise stone. I’ve never been able to achieve this color with any other process or plant, so it’s very special!

Where did your love for natural dyeing begin?
I began by collaborating with a community garden called Cordwainers Garden in London at an allotment next to my Grad School (The London College of Fashion) in Hackney, East London. Space to garden, as in many urban areas, is little to be had there and as a result, very much cherished, so I was lucky to have ample space to explore the process of exclusively growing dye plants. As a natural dyer that actually grows my own plants for dyeing, I am able to see the process from seed to cloth and this holistic approach keeps my research hungry mind and creative spirit continually fulfilled. Gardening and harvesting is immensely gratifying, and distinctly different from dyeing with only imported powdered extracts. This full life cycle aspect of my introduction to natural dyes has generally keep me coming back to the practice.

What’s your favorite scent?
Jasmine, Magnolia, and Gardenia are all favorites of mine