DRACHENWALD LAURELS' ARTS CHALLENGE: HERALDIC TEXTILES FOR YOUR CAMP, PART IV (Conclusion)

 

Vert, a horse contourney within three crosses flory Or.

Well, friends, it seems that I have, in fact, done it. I have made the fanciest banner you ever did see, based on the instructions for painting and gilding on silk from our good friend Cennini in his Il Libro del Arte. In the end, it wasn't difficult, per se, just faffy. I likened it to making French food: not hard, in and of itself, but lots of little steps. 

Let's refresh. In this post, I talked about the challenge I was taking up (Heraldic textiles for your camp) my inspiration (my friend who not only paints glorious modern silk banners, she did a painted linen one for Madrone's Athanaeum event which is what had me looking at Cennini in the first place).

In this post, I reviewed the steps (many) and layers (many, many) that Cennini outlines for painting on silk, specifically gilding. I also made a shopping list and spent a very great deal of money at L. Cornilissen & Son on gold leaf that I ended up not using (more on that later). 

Finally, in this post, I discover that my gesso is rock solid, and that I didn't need a King's ransom in gold leaf after all. I also list out the steps I'd be taking to make this thing, which I shall now repeat for you here:

1. Transfer the design using charcoal, and outline in ink
2. Put a layer of size in the area to be painted/gilded
3. Put a layer of gesso mixed with a bit of bole
4. Put another two layers of size
5. Put a few more layers of bole
6. Paint the area with shell gold
7. Add any additional artwork with paint or ink
8. Do any additional leaf gilding, if you're going to
9. Varnish

So, here's how it all went.

I started, as a good apprentice should, by starting a test swatch. I diligently drew a design, did a layer of size, a layer of gesso, and two more layers of size before heading up to Inverness for a week to visit the inlaws. That was at the end of September. When I got back, I looked at my real-life work load, and the time I had before the deadline, and decided to skip ahead a bit to just getting proper started.

I'd purchased dark green silk taffeta, cut it to size (the measurements of the inspiration piece plus an inch, or so, hem allowance), and printed out my device images so that they'd fit. Each of these steps has at least one (if not two or three or seven) days between them to let the layers thoroughly dry.

Step 1: transfer the design using charcoal and outline in ink

I...didn't do this. Exactly. It turns out that dark green silk taffeta isn't the most transparent of fabrics, and it was a challenge to see the images I needed, even with using a light box. Also, if I used charcoal to draw it, I wouldn't be able to see the images at all. So I muddled along using a white chalk pencil, which got the job done.

...wherein I learned that my clever crosses flory were a huge PITA

Step 2: put a layer of size in the area to be painted

This went about as you'd expect - fairly easy. My big takeaway from this part, though, is to make sure you're careful about not getting size on your fingers, because it's sticky, and when you try to unstick your fingers from your brush, you'll fling size all over Hell's Eight Acres.

I put it on a frame because I assumed that's what you're supposed to do

Step 3: put a layer of gesso mixed with a bit of bole

So, in an effort to not have to buy a lot of new supplies for this, I just added a bunch of water to my rock-solid gesso and hoped for the best. It seemed to work, so I carried on. This layer was a lot harder, though. The size was sticky, but really liquid. The gesso was thicker and did not want to play nicely at all. I also couldn't be arsed with adding the bole, for reasons that are now lost to time. The result is a bit rustic and textured, which is fine with me, but I'll approach it differently on the next one, starting with having less fiddly designs, and maybe giving it a gentle sanding. ::shakes fist at fancy crosses::

It was at this point where I became skeptical about this whole endeavour

Step 4: put another two layers of size

Pretty much what it says on the tin. My size has a bit of a red tint to it, which I figured would make up for the lack of bole in the previous step.

So sticky!

Step 5: put on a few layers of bole

So, bole is a nice red ochre clay - super fine and easily inhaled (which is a terrible plan according to the warning label). I'd had a bit of a mental block about this, since this was the step where I was supposed to temper egg white and do a bunch of other gymnastics and I was really struggling with just getting it done. It turns out, though, as I re-read the paragraph about it, when I continued reading to the next paragraph there was a "or you could do this much easier thing. ::shrug::" So, rather than frothing up egg whites and letting them settle over night and adding fish glue and a bunch of other nonsense, I did the much easier thing of...mixing bole with water and a little egg white until it was about the consistency of cream. It painted on quite readily, and I did two coats. It's a lovely colour.

One! One coat of bole! Ah ha ha!

Two! Two coats of bole! Ah ha ha!

Step 6: paint the area with shell gold

For those that aren't scribal nerds, shell gold is what happens when you gather up all of the leftover bits from leaf gilding, smash them to a powder, mix them with a binder, then proceed to use as paint. It is...not inexpensive, and since I expect this thing to see some good times, I opted to use the mica gold paint that I already have, since it's more or less the same idea, just affordable. It was also at this point that I couldn't keep the fabric on the frame because it was so heavy, so I figured it would be OK to just lay it out. It seemed to work.

Ooh! Shiny!

Step 7: do any additional artwork with paint or ink

So, the tiny panic I had after the gesso layer was the sudden realisation that all of the carefully drawn in lines that make the horse look like a horse rather than a horse-shaped gold silhouette would have to be added. I mean...I knew that, but it really hit home at that moment. I had no idea, really, how it would play out, but I couldn't not do it, or it would be very meh. I used burnt umber gouache and did the best I could with shading. I also added a bit to the crosses, just so they wouldn't look completely flat next to the more "realistic" horse, which didn't turn out exactly as I'd hoped, but it did add a bit of dimension and visual interest.

Step 8: do any additional gold leaf

No. Don't wanna. Can't make me.

Step 9: varnish

A thing to use in a well-ventilated area, but pretty vital to the process. This, hopefully, is what will seal this nonsense against the elements. Time will tell. It's clear, so hard to tell that I'd done anything at all, really, but I swear to you that I did.

Pony!

Step 10: hem and add fringe

After a bit of a think, I ended up hand-stitching the hem because after all of the above nonsense it just seemed disingenuous to do it by machine. 

It actually looks quite nice, if I do say so myself

I have to say that when I started laying out the fringe to pin it down, I could not stop laughing. It takes this from perfectly fine painted silk to OMG RIDICULOUS in one easy step. So ridiculous. I love it.

Mine

That other guy's

Conclusion

I love this. I could have, arguably, just done this with modern fabric paints, but something about following all of these steps, and adding all of these layers just makes it look better. More authentic, really. Like I said, it wasn't hard, it just took time and patience. Assuming the varnish holds up, it would withstand being hung in a camp, although probably best to not test that out in a typhoon.

So that's that! Coming soon to an event near you...