UBC Dye Kit Journal
From NarratingLandscapes
The following entries are from the journal I wrote while creating My UBC Dye Kit.
--Kyla 15:33, 18 August 2008 (UTC)
August 2nd
We have arrived in Deep Cove, my partner, Anskey and I. I recently decided that my final project is about finding dye plants and now I am ready to try it out for real. Should we explore first or have fish and chips? Are we too hungry to walk? Or…will we not be able to walk after eating? The latter situation is perhaps more threatening. Using Colin Varner’s (2002) and Nancy Turner’s (2006) guidebook, I have highlighted the Oregon-grape and Wolf Lichen as possible discoveries. These two plants were used by First Nations of British Columbia to yield bright yellow dyes (Turner 2006: 148-149, 51).
Within minutes, on the edge of the paved walkway, we see something appearing to be Oregon grape. The leaves are deep shiny green and have a waxy feel. The edges are sharp and scrape the fingers. The bluish berries hang in a “grapey” fashion. I taste them and they are bitter. Apparently the stems make a yellow dye, but there is nothing overtly yellow about this plant. We secretly approach it and try to break off a branch without looking as if we’re committing an act of sabotage. I feel a bit crazy and inhumane as it remains firm and fights me as I twist. It knows how we feel and takes advantage, the leaves stabbing our bodies.
After finding and fighting the Oregon grape, with new confidence we go into the cool damp forest. Maybe we will find Wolf Lichen, which looks like a sort of yellow tree beard. I see some beard-like things, but no wolf lichen. My stomach is hollow now and eating itself. We take some random bits of unknowns and put them into our canvas bag, the last being a stubby beer bottle we dig out of the soil.
August 5th
Today the class is on a medicinal plants tour with Jeri Sparrow, a member of the Musqueam community. We take a meandering walk through the forest to learn about the plants. I am shown Oregon-grape. It looks like what I found before except “grapier.” I put the sour berry on my tongue and it tastes familiar. My classmate Julia (User: Julia) peels back the bark and I see the bright, almost turmeric, yellow inside. She says that there are lots more on campus, especially near the Student Union Building (SUB). I see an Alder tree. The bark of the alder was used as a source of red dye by British Columbia’s First Nations as well(Turner 2006: 150). I picture alders from my home in Newfoundland. They grow along the sides of the tracks everywhere and look more like bushes than trees. We burn them on the beach. However, the alders of this place are large and unfamiliar, as is everything here, which looks to me like it belongs in Jurassic Park.
I am now on the 99 bus. I can feel the difference between the cool shaded winds near campus, to the hot air that seeps the window from the busy city street. Usually I print neatly, but on the 99 I write in my secret messy writing so that no one can see, not that anyone is looking. I am thinking about what I will use for a mordant in my experiment. Coming from the word “to bite,” a mordant is something that allows the dye to stick to fabric or fibres. Basically they are metallic or mineral salts that can intensify the color of the dyebath and help make the fabric more resistance to fading (Casselman 1980: 22). In my modern plant dye guides they list a variety of metallic salts to use as mordants, alum being the most common ingredient (Bliss 1981; Casselman 1980; Cannon 2003; Krochmal 1974). I don’t really understand what alum is exactly, other than it is a chemical and that I would have to buy it. Traditionally, urine was used as a mordant. Like fine wine it improves with age as you leave it in the sun with your dyestuff to ferment, in a process called putrefaction (Bliss 1981: 43; Casselman 1980: 24; McGrath 1977: 17).I don’t know how to feel about using pee, especially since there are guests in my house at this time.
August 8th
After class today I walk with my classmate Heather (User: Heather). We are both trying to locate plants on campus and mentally mapping where they are. She is looking for medicinal plants, specifically yarrow and Labrador Tea. (See: Shifts in perception through the UBC first aid kit). We walk in the sun behind the anthropology building where there are so many blackberries just ripening. This is actually one of my first experiences tasting wild blackberry. I struggle to reach the high ones. They are bittersweet. Maybe they would make a nice pink or purple dye, but they are too tasty to use for this purpose. We walk towards the museum where there are trucks and development. There are many “weeds” like Tansy growing. They are bright yellow. I take some, but I still don’t have anything to dye yet. While we try to orient ourselves, two girls approach us to ask directions and then a man comes and does the same. Are we sending out vibes that we know where we are going? Maybe we look so in tune with the landscape, being attentive to the plants and walking so leisurely, that it seems like we belong there. I can imagine all these people walking around campus trying to get somewhere and getting lost. Perhaps others are out there searching for plants too.
August 11th
This morning I get off the bus early and walk down the road to Sword Fern Trail. I don’t actually know what I am looking for. I see twisting vines of different kinds, some that Anskey, who is affected by twisty plants and plants growing out of other plants, would feel crawling on the back of his neck. I also eat more blackberries. It is quite peaceful in there and I have to pee, which reminds me of the urine mordant. Maybe the fact that I fear using pee is related to our modern disconnection with landscapes and bodies. I don’t want to use urine in my sterile apartment environment. It seems that as there is more development outside of our homes, the sterility is extended, until there is no place for pee other than in a pipe or deep in the forest.
I call one of my contacts from the quiet of the forest. I am afraid to trouble her. She told me that she mostly uses synthetic dyes, but that all sorts of plants you find in the grocery store produce dyes and that Stinging Nettle leaves can make a lovely greenish color. This forest is shadowy with patches of bright yellowish green. It seems to be filled with the same plants over and over again. The Oregon grape is the only thing I recognize and it keeps popping up at me from everywhere. Other plants, seen again and again, are chattering at me too but they have no names. Coming out of the woods I see the weeds in contrast to the rows of planted flowers in the meridian. I walk to the bus loop and see more and more Oregon grapes, I need to get some fibers or fabric and make dye from this plant to stop it from yelling at me.
August 12
Now I am home ready to start dyeing, which sounds strange I know...When I first told my mom that I would “ dye with plants” she was quite confused. I think they should change the word dye. According to the dye books, the process of dyeing is very complex, very variable and very personal. Everyone has a different way to prepare. First of all there is the pot you use to simmer your dyes. Apparently copper and tin will affect the dye and can act as a mordant. Also the way you prepare the fibers affect the dye. There is the option of mordanting before, during or after the process. There are also certain ways to rinse the fabric, different lengths of time to simmer. The plants themselves also affect the dyeing depending on the chemical composition of the soil (Bliss 1981; Casselman 1980; Cannon 2003; Krochmal 1974; Robertson 1977). See The Dyeing Process: Some tips on dyeing with different materials
Anyhow...I make jam-like sauces sometimes and feel comfortable with berries simmering on the stovetop so I will try the salal berries first. Before I got to this point I was afraid and sort of turned off by all the mordants and processes and intricate details involved in “serious” dyeing. However, when I start, I imagine myself like a child pretending to be a witch preparing a magic brew and follow my intuition. I do not have a mordant of any sort, besides my own pee, which I don't use because I am still uncomfortable boiling on the stove in the presence of my houseguests.
With a fork I smash my handful of Salal berries and water in my steel pie pan. A beautiful rich deep purple bath forms. My stove is full of splashes. The dyebath smells like pies and I feel like eating it, except I throw in some vinegar and salt to appease and humor the plant guide authors. I cut and soak my wool. Wool is very good at not absorbing water so I must do this and it is also the most recommended fiber to try for beginners (Bliss 1981:32; Cannon 2003:11; Casselman 1980:26; McGrath 1977:40). I throw in some plus a piece of a cotton facecloth and a piece of banana bark fiber I got from India just for too see what will happen. I decide to keep the berries in the juice to fully take advantage of their color. I pull out the first yarn after 5 minutes. It is gooky and nearly black with berries stuck to it. I put it through an initial rinse. It is a beautiful light sky blue. I simmer them further and they become deeper blue, with a purplish undertone. I want to try the few Oregon grape berries I have (less than a handful). I perform the same tasks as before, but the yarn does not take the color as well. The facecloth becomes a heathery light purple.
August 13th
This morning I will try out the Oregon grape stems. I soaked a handful of shredded stems last night. The water they were soaking is yellow. The branches feel soft. I put them in my steel pan with just enough water to cover them. Then I add some wool, which I prepared as before. I throw in my facecloth too, because I like to see the color soak up instantly. I see the hint of fluorescence in my yarn, even when I rinse it after a few minutes its there. The outer bark has made the water slightly dingy. I need to try this again. These stems are powerful.
Now I am home after class. I collected even more Oregon grape today behind the Fraser parkade on campus. It is like my personal patch now. Tonight it is my desire to unleash the power of the Oregon grape stems. I sit on the floor and peel off the bark gently with my fingers. Just underneath the bark it is alarmingly yellow and feels powdery. I try to harness as much of this yellow as possible. Then I shred the stems to further release the yellow core inside. While I am doing this something funny happens. People start to join me on the floor and we sit peeling these things as if we are going to start a fire in the middle of the living room. We have a plate of oranges and peaches while we work. The sticks are glowing.
I put them into my pan and leave them to simmer. Most of the water has boiled off, so I add more and I throw in my fibers. After 5 minutes It has already soaked up the fluorescence. I leave it for at least 30 minutes until the water is gone. The rinsed yarn almost like the fluorescent clothes from the eighties. This yellow doesn’t even seem like it should exist in normally in nature. I have a brand new image of people in the past coloring their world with this unreal color. From reading the guides I thought that plant dyes would mostly make foggy colors. However, I see now that reading about this is very different from doing it. Now every time I see the Oregon grape, although on the outside it is green and blue, I will picture a bright fluorescent yellow glow.
August 14th
August 15th
I walk behind the anthropology building after leaving our last class. I see some Western Red-cedar and approach one of them and feel the rough reddish bark. The sky is dull and white and the air is very humid. I walk the familiar path where the blackberries line the road. The earth has now been piled up there on the opposite side of the road and I see my tansy path next to the upturned soil, there are not many there now so I leave them alone. Behind the Museum of Anthropology and up the road into the forest near Nitobe Memorial Garden. I see more red cedars. It is very calm and quiet at UBC at this time and my walking feels very personal and slow paced. I head up Memorial Road, past my Oregon grape patch and through to the small garden next to the weedy clock tower garden. I plop some salal berries into my plastic container. Back on the 99 bus, my plants are poking me and sticking out of my bag. They scrape and brush against my arm as I try to keep them on my lap.
Now I am here with the dried up stinging nettle leaves. I throw half of them into my pan with water. They smell very green and very strong and the bath turns the color of a green tea. When I put my fabric in it becomes brownish-green. However, when I rinse it the color leaves and I need to keep letting it stay longer in the bath. Now it is a dingy color. I try the fiber we worked with in class. It changes only slightly but it is still wet now so it may dry up.I read later that if the leaves are not fresh they may turn brownish rather than greenish. I will know for next time.
August 17
Since moving to British Columbia last year, I felt disconnected to the landscape. I did not know what anything was. Sometimes I traveled around the city feeling like a zombie because I felt so disconnected. The UBC campus was another place that I felt like a stranger in. My knowledge of the campus was of the path from bus to the Anthropology building.(See initial map in Introduction: My UBC Dye Kit). Now I secretly know of some places where there it is peaceful to walk, there are good things to eat and good things to dye with. I now have a internal map that includes plants and Ethnobotanical Spaces. While my new map has not grown much wider and covers only a tiny portion of the official campus map, it has become much richer and more intimate.
References:
Bliss, Anne 1981. A Handbook of Dyes from Natural Materials. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons.
Cannon, John and Margaret 2003. Dye Plants and Dyeing. Portland: Timber Press.
Casselman, Karen Leigh 1980. Craft of the Dyer: Colour from Plants and Lichens of the Northeast. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.
Krochmal, Arnold and Connie 1977. The Complete Illustrated Book of Dyes from Natural Sources. Garden City: Doubleday & Company, Inc.
McGrath, Judy Waldner 1977. Dyes from Lichens and Plants. Toronto: Van Nostrand Reinhold Company.
Robertson, Seonaid 1973. Dyes from Plants. Toronto: Van Nostrand Reinhold Company.
Turner, Nancy J. 2006. Plant Technology of First Peoples in British Columbia. Vancouver: UBC Press.
Varner, Collin 2002. Plants of Vancouver and the Lower Mainland. Vancouver: Raincoast Books.
Supported by the Arts IT Fund at UBC