education programme : AMBIGUOUS
SPACES : Matilda McQuaid Paper
Transforming the everyday
Matilda McQuaid
Over the last fifteen years there have been two profound discoveries
for me that are – coincidently -- similar in a number of ways,
and not in the least is they are both textile based. I have the rare
opportunity to talk about them both with you this afternoon. You’re
certainly familiar with the first -- Reiko Sudo and her company Nuno – who
are the reason for this symposium and wonderful exhibition 21
21: The Textile Vision of Reiko Sudo and Nuno. It’s an
honor to talk today about Reiko and Nuno – two names so entwined
together that it is impossible to think about one without the other.
And in
part I owe a debt to Reiko in pursuing the second discovery -- technical
textiles -- or those high performance fabrics that are used for a
wide range of applications -- from architecture, medicine, transportation
to aerospace and the environment. Fifteen years ago, when I began
working on the idea of technical textiles as an exhibition, Reiko
was part of these early discussions. She herself has been an avid
promoter of these high performance fabrics -- taking inspiration
from them and utilizing their industrial technology to create extraordinary
fashion and decorative textiles.
Both of these discoveries lead to exhibitions – one in 1998,
Structure and Surface: Contemporary Japanese Textiles – a
show that featured Nuno’s work as well as other designers
working in Japan. The second -- Extreme Textiles: Designing
for High Performance -- just closed at the end
of October and included not only textiles but their applications
too.
For the next twenty minutes I’m going to focus on the work
of Nuno discussing it on more of a personal level in terms of what
fascinated me about the textiles when I saw them more than fifteen
years ago on my first trip to Japan and why they are so distinctive
when compared with so many other contemporary textiles. And then
I will introduce you briefly to the world of technical textiles showing
the commonalities between Nuno and technical textiles and why each
can be seen as some of the most beautiful and innovative design being
produced today.
One only has to look at the title of some of Nuno’s works
to understand the inspiration and how each textile designer working
at Nuno approaches their task. The titles are tangible – many
describing the everyday objects that surround these designers in
Japan: Brickyard, Moss Velvet, Feather Flurries, Shutter, Crackled
Cloth, Slipstream, Pack Ice, Bubble Pack, Stratus, and Mica.
The textiles transform mundane words into an altogether new aesthetic
language while at the same time the words can be the creative source
for the designs. A flurry of papers can be the inspiration for
Feather Flurries or dried persimmons hanging from the eaves of
rural farmhouses
might be the source for the pattern of this cotton and rayon fabric.
Rolls of paper, the calligraphy and texture of these sake bottles,
the play of light and shadows on this wall, and the rhythm and
beautiful patina of these monumental gates help to make up Nuno’s
visual vocabulary. The everyday is the point of departure for these
designers and their translation skills are completely acute.
Nuno means functional textile and since its founding in 1984 by
Junichi Arai and Reiko Sudo it has combined the best of the past
and present. Reiko came to design textiles through the kimono – a
source for so much innovation in fashion and textile design in Japan,
even today. Later she earned a degree in textile design at Musashino
Art University after which she worked as a freelance designer for
Kanebo, a major textile company. But perhaps her most influential
relationship was when she met Junichi Arai in 1982. One of the most
important textile designers today, Arai was interested in fusing
industrial and the handmade as well as traditional techniques and
innovative finishing processes, to create a totally new textile.
Reiko shared this vision and has carried it forth as the head designer
of Nuno, after Arai left in 1987, while expanding upon it and making
the work accessible to a wider audience.
The team of Arai and Sudo evolved into what is now a larger, but
still relatively small team of designers (only about 23 since 1987)
with Reiko as director and head designer. The production process
is an extremely important part of their work and as Reiko has said, “it
[production process] becomes a narrative for their work”. Often
the production of a textile begins with hand techniques -- whether
it is cutouts or sketches (GRAFFITTI) – but it can also continue
into the actual production process if industrial techniques cannot
be found. Here we see one of the stages of Feather Flurries when
the looms actually have to be stopped in order for someone to insert
a feather into the pocket. Or there is an elaborate wrapping process
involved in the making of Mica. After bunching polyester fabric into
a tightly packed ball, it goes through an intensive heat set process
that permanently creases the fabric turning it into a multilayered
glittering textile. Or in this demonstration of making the prototype
for Jellyfish where industrial vinyl polychloride – with a
50% heat shrinkage ratio (developed for such uses as car seat covers)
is sewn onto a polyester organdy and then it goes through a flash
heat treatment – in this case a microwave. A variation of
this process is used when making large quantities -- the fabric gets
an adhesive screen printed in a checkerboard design, which partially
affixes the two fabrics together. When it is exposed to heat, polyester
-- a thermoplastic fabric -- shrivels where sewn or adhered to the
industrial vinyl polychloride and retains the crinkles even after
the vinyl is peeled away. Here we have an interesting demonstration
of how an industrial material and process has been used in combination
with a relatively ordinary fabric – the polyester organdy – to
create an entirely new texture. And texture is at the core of how
Nuno defines beauty. As Reiko has said: “Textiles must be beautiful…and
in my sense, texture – the tactile element – is the most
important thing.”
Other textures: In Nuno’s Terrazzo Felt, discarded Nuno fabric
is scattered on raw wool and joined using an industrial needlepunching
process (used primarily in the backing for carpets) . The effect
is transformative. Similarly, stainless steel fiber used as a reinforcement
in car tires was an inspiration for Spattered Stainless Steel. After
much trial and error, Reiko proposed a coating method that spattered
nickel, chrome and iron amalgam onto polyester. She used a traditional
kimono technique of coating paper with gold or silver foil as a point
of departure and managed to find just the right softness and texture
to create a textile that looks like liquid mercury.
Continuing with Nuno’s metal series is this Copper cloth where
the same thread used for telephone lines has been coated with a polyurethane
coating that protects against electric shock and signal noise as
well as patina and brittleness. The warp or vertical threads are
of Promix: a Japanese fiber regenerated from imported casein protein
power made from Australian milk.
Softer materials like paper are regularly used in Nuno’s work.
Japanese paper has been used in fashion for centuries – as
raincoats, as the base material around which gold and silver foil
is wrapped to make metallic thread. In Slipstream bundled strips
of paper are used in the weft and woven with silk organdy. Long floats
of paper create patterns reminiscent of flowing water. In Patched
Paper, a more three dimensional effect is achieved when a polyester
base fabric, incorporates strips of Japanese paper in the weft which
are then cut by hand to create this hairy effect.
The centuries-old technique of folding paper is even integrated
into the manufacturing of a Nuno scarf. It starts with making
the prototype and then increasing it to full scale. Polyester
is then
pushed into the crevices, clipped to the origami mold and sandwiched
between color transfer print paper. After a heat set process the
result is a permanently pleated and colored scarf.
Another traditional textile technique that Nuno has integrated
into their repertoire is a variation on shibori, which usually
relies
on a laborious handwrapping and dyeing of the textile. Relying
again on the thermoplastic qualities of polyester, the fabric is
pushed
through holes, then sandwiched between color transfer print paper,
and finally subjected to high heat and pressure. The outcome is
a softly, puckered surface.
Nuno has developed their own version of printed textiles, which
creates one-of-a-kind fabrics rather than a uniform repeat. In
their Scrapyard series, rusty materials like nails, barbed
wire, and
iron plates are used to create the patterns. Iron oxide or rust
can actually oxidize fibers over time, effectively print-dyeing
the fabric as you see with these metal plates.
Different types of traditional resist techniques have also inspired
their textiles. In this example, transparent silk organdy is painted
with a starch paste and the fabric is immersed in a calcium nitrate,
which causes the exposed or unpainted areas to crimp and bunch
into opaque clumps. Resist-covered areas retain their painted
patterns
in the original base cloth.
I could go on and on with examples showing how Nuno experiments
with surface techniques or combines threads with incompatible shrink
ratios
to yield unprecedented sculptural textures. There are never any
mistakes in a Nuno textile – Reiko and her designers turn around this
notion and use it as a source of knowledge for future use. They have
developed a unique formula using a few key and overarching components:
industrial process + hand technique + ordinary material, the sum
of which creates textiles of startling artistry and beauty. It is
this perfect balance of different techniques and unlikely sources
which makes Nuno’s work so distinctive when compared with so
many other textiles.
If we understand Nuno’s work by this equation, we can understand
some of the similarities that Nuno fabrics have with the technical
textiles featured in Extreme Textiles. Whereas Nuno’s ultimate
intention is to create beautiful fabrics, technical textiles were
never meant to be beautiful or decorative; only to be high performance
and to function often under extreme conditions. Performance is such
a key criterion that we organized the show around 5 essential requirements:
STRONGER, LIGHTER, FASTER, SMARTER, and SAFER. So we see in this
image a few examples of the type of applications of technical textiles,
each one representing a different category: an extremely light and
strong carbon fiber composite rotor blisk – a machine part
used in turbine engines, a knitted heart bag used for people who
suffer from degenerative heart failure, a carbon fiber composite
racing bike, a flexible wing suit used by flying enthusiasts, and
the Mars Lander Airbags which protected the rovers when they landed
on the surface of Mars.
How close these technical textiles come to having similar traits
of beauty or at least the formal qualities that we admire in Nuno’s
textiles! Look at this industrial liner and these geotextiles or
textiles for the earth – used primarily to prevent soil erosion – share
the richness and randomness of line as we see in Rubberband.
This geotextile -- also used to prevent soil erosion and enhance
the germination process -- has the same structure as Nuno’s
Honeycomb made entirely out of a strong stiff paper filament developed
by a Japanese paper manufacturer. And using a tightly twisted worsted
wool in this Superhoneycomb, we get a much softer and puffier textile.
Even some of the textile techniques are similar. This example
of machine embroidered lace from the early 20th century and this
contemporary
medical implant used inside the body and specifically designed
for someone who lost much of his shoulder due to a tumor, were
manufactured
by sewing or embroidering onto a base cloth that is then dissolved
away leaving behind a textile structure. Nuno does this with
Tsugihagi and Shutters – in one leaving behind a patchwork of old Nuno
textiles and in the other a semi-transparent surface of brown, curling
tendrils.
Metallic fiber is used for many different applications in technical
textiles. This 100% knitted stainless steel fabric – only several
inches wide – is used in transporting car windshields during
the manufacturing process. These knitted stainless steel bracelet-like
forms are used as filtration devices in industrial machinery. And
here we have Nuno’s Stress and Stripes which combines a needlepunch
process with a metallic coating. Nuno essentially has taken the most
beautiful effects of an industrial manufacturing process and material
like stainless steel to create an innovative fashion fabric. Switching
to copper and brass, this fabric is used as a foundation on which
to laminate materials together. Its herringbone pattern insures an
efficient transmission of heat as well as no visible pattern of the
textile on the materials being laminated. Copper becomes the primary
fiber in this shielding fabric, which protects equipment against
electromagnetic interference. One can barely distinguish these function-only
fabrics from Nuno’s own version of Copper cloth as the same
qualities that attracted Nuno’s designers to use copper for
more decorative and experimental applications are instead used for
purely functional reasons in the previous two examples.
It is impossible to think of a Nuno textile as anything but a
three dimensional object. One can imagine that the shimmering surface
of
this loosely woven carbon fiber -- used in sports equipment or
in sailboats --could have inspired Nuno’s (although it didn’t)
embossed stainless steel, although the materials are very different.
And this camouflage fabric used by the British Army could certainly
be confused with Nuno’s Jellyfish although they come to their
sculptural solutions with entirely different textile techniques and
for entirely different purposes.
And Nuno fabrics can also define and reinvent three dimensional
spaces – making them more experiential, sumptuous, engaging
and memorable. One only has to look at Toyo Ito’s Sendai Mediatheque
and this translucent space divider that creates a foggy, atmospheric
environment within the building. Or the hand embroidered fabrics
made for the Louis Vuitton store made by skillful craftsmen who
normally embroider wedding kimonos. And finally the extraordinary
fabrics that were used to upholster the seats and used for the theater
curtain (spattering fabric) of the Matsumoto Performing Arts Center.
Lighting, textiles, interior come together to create a true theatrical
experience.
What is interesting about Nuno’s textiles and the examples
of some of the industrial fabrics that I showed you are that we can
end up with similar forms, sometimes using very similar textile techniques.
Form and technique are intentional, but for very different purposes – one
for beauty the other for performance.
In addition, the hand plays just as important a role in creating
technical textiles as in creating Nuno’s Scrapyard series.
With many of the carbon fiber composite applications – from
bike wheels and frames to racing sculls and ski helmets, handcraftsmanship
often determines winners from losers.
But in the end, each exemplifies beauty in its own way. The tire
cord fabric that you see on the screen and this stainless steel
fabric by Nuno have the
same incredible drapery and suppleness. However, one provides strength for
tires, the other a slinky covering for the body. Both are equally
beautiful and equally
relevant in thinking about textiles, design, artistry, creativity, and innovation.
This comparison is proof of Nuno’s vision of the future as stated by Reiko
in the exhibition catalogue: “Nuno will try to breathe in the atmosphere
of the times and turn it into fabric.”
Thank you, Reiko and Nuno, for sharing your world and fabric with
us.
13 minute film
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