Natural Color

Originally published October 2016 in the Santa Cruz Sentinel

Sasha Duerr’s new book, “Natural Color,” poses a difficult question and provides some thoughtful answers. The question is an ever-present, global one: What more can we do to help our planet? The answer is: Rethink where color in our fabrics comes from.

My napkins soak up the pink dye after
 the avocado pits have simmered for an hour on the
 stove. Duerr says that natural dies are often more
 complex than synthetic dies. A natural red dye, for
 example, will contain hints of blue and yellow,
whereas chemically produced red dye contains
 only a single pigment.

Duerr says that although we don’t eat our clothing and textiles, the process of dyeing them is nevertheless poisoning us and our planet. She provides these startling statistics about the contamination of our water:

• The World Bank estimates that 17 to 20 percent of the world’s industrial water pollution comes from textile dyeing and treatment.
• There are 72 toxic chemicals in our water that originate purely from the dyeing process; of these 30 cannot be removed. (See “A Cancer Cycle, From Here to China” at www.nytimes.com)

She blames “fast fashion”—the relentless mandate of the fashion industry to convince us that, although an article of clothing may still be functional, it must be replaced by something more stylish. She compares fast fashion to fast food, since, in both cases, rapid consumption rules the day with little thought given to the negative consequences. 

Duerr carries the relationship between food and fashion further. She writes that “just as many of us have lost our basic knowledge of food and cooking . . . so too the basic knowledge and practice of making plant-based color for fashion and textiles have been lost.” As the slow food movement strives to link the pleasures of the table with a commitment to community and environment protection, Duerr seeks to connect textiles and fashion with the same commitment to global health.

Even though our grandmothers were using more natural, recognizable ingredients in their cooking than we are today, I’m not sure they were dyeing their own fabric. When tie-dyeing and batik became popular in the US in the 1960s and 70s, and many textile artists were experimenting at home with natural plant-based colors for dyeing fabric, dangerous metal mordants such chrome, tin, and copper were part of the recipe. Mordants are necessary to help dyes bond with fibers, making fabrics colorfast through washing and wearing cycles.

For certain natural dye sources and colors, powdered metals are still a necessary part of Duerr’s recipes, although she works only with alum and iron, the safest choices. Nevertheless, she uses these less-toxic metals with “extreme care and caution” (e.g. gloves, lids on pots, dust masks, dedicated tools and equipment, safe disposal of spent dyes, etc.). Fortunately, adding a metal mordant is not always necessary.

When oil paints gave Duerr headaches and nausea as a budding artist in her early 20s, Duerr began investigating natural colorants in India, Nepal, Tibet and Indonesia. Plants have provided of a whole gamut of textile colors for centuries, but it was not easy finding the how-to of sustainable plant dye practices in her travels. She continued her research in the San Francisco Bay Area, where she “fell in love with the variety and sources of plant-based palettes” available in her new backyard. She wrote her MFA thesis on dyeing without toxic metal mordants and founded Permacouture Institute in 2007, to continue the exploration of responsible fashion and textile practices.

For Mother’s Day a few years ago my farmer daughter sent me a set of seven small pen and ink drawings of individual vegetables and fruits. She tinted each image with color distilled from the subject itself. I displayed the drawings in my kitchen and over time the colors have all disappeared, except for the cabbage, which is still an olive green. So why didn’t the cabbage fade?

Some plants have built-in mordants that bind their color to fiber (or paper) without additives. Plant-based materials that Duerr uses for making color-fast dyes include avocado pits, loquat leaves, eucalyptus bark, and pomegranate rinds, which all contain significant amounts of tannin. Safer mordants have also been made from proteins like milk or soy, and even from plants that absorb metals like aluminum through their roots.

Duerr encourages readers to start dyeing with “the wayward white wool sweater in the back of your closet that you haven’t worn and the leftover by-products of your favorite meal before they hit your compost pile.” With natural dyes, your fabric fiber choices are also natural:

• Protein fibers (animal-based): Alpaca, angora, cashmere, silk, wool
• Cellulose fibers (plant-based): Cotton, hemp, linen, nettle, piña, ramie, sisal

 Other natural materials such as shell, bone, wood and porous paper can also be dyed.

The projects in “Natural Color” are arranged by the seasons, and fall includes “Hopi black sunflower seed wool rug” and “Madder root scarf.” (Madder root can make vibrant, clear reds, otherwise difficult to find in nature.) Tannin-rich persimmons are typically used green, and require a week of fermentation and a year of aging, so you should start gathering them now for next year’s projects. Winter is for pomegranate rinds, purple cabbage leaves, blue spruce branches and redwood cones.

For fun I decided to give her “Avocado pit pillowcases” project a try, although when I couldn’t hunt down linen of any sort on my shopping safari, I used cotton napkins instead. I found washing soda and something approximating Marseille soap at Nob Hill, which are needed to help release built-up waxes, dirt and oils in the cotton fibers prior to dyeing. The pre-washing, dyeing, post-washing and drying took the better part of a day, but the results were nice enough: the pits turned the white cotton a nice, organic shade of pink.

If slow fashion is to gain any momentum at all, we will have to become more environmentally-conscious consumers. Sasha Duerr’s book is all about the kind of awareness we need—not only for making better choices, but also for tuning into the cycle and offerings of nature. As Duerr points out, nature is the ultimate instructor, an invaluable source of color, inspiration and innovation for all creative endeavors.

Art Abandonment Project

Random acts of guerilla art

Originally published in the Santa Cruz Sentinel

On a bench along the shoreline of Lake Balaton in
Hungary, Friedel Kammler dropped handcrafted
 jewelry made by Jenny Potter and Donna Furgason,
 Canadian friends that Kammler made through the
 Facebook group. They sent the jewelry to Kammler
 to be abandoned in Hungary so their work could
 “crossover the ocean.” (Photo by Friedel Kammler)

You’re sitting at the bus stop, anxious to get to where you’re going, and you notice a Ziploc bag with a small note inside and something else you can’t quite identify, resting beside you. The note has an elaborately penned letter “A” and the title, “A Gift for You.”

You are intrigued, so you pick up the bag and squint to read the rest of the note: “Art Abandonment is a group of artists sharing what we love to do by leaving artwork in random locations across the globe for other to find and enjoy. Today the Universe picks you to receive this gift with the hope that you enjoy it or pass it onto someone else. If you wish, you can send a message to i.found.artwork@gmail.com to let us know it was found.”

You turn the bag over to inspect the contents. You think, “Is this for real or some new advertising scheme? Nothing is free, right? What do they want?” There’s a bracelet made of strung beads inside the bag. You open the bag and slip the jewelry around your wrist. It’s kind of cool. You start to relax and feel kind of lucky, like the universe is smiling on you.

The founders of The Art Abandonment Project—Michael deMeng and Andrea Matus deMeng—want you to feel this way. It’s their hope that, through giving away art, the world will become a slightly better place. They created a Facebook page for the group (www.facebook.com/groups/ArtAbandonment) and have just published a book, “The Art Abandonment Project: Create and Share Random Acts of Art,” promoting their concept.

Michael deMeng and Andrea Matus deMeng, married
authors of The Art Abandonment Project, teach
 and exhibit their artwork internationally. They live
 in Vancouver, British Columbia and started the
www.facebook.com/groups/ArtAbandonment so that
 others could share their techniques for making and
 abandoning art. (Photo of their artwork provided by
Michael deMeng)

In the book, Michael deMeng (a Canadian) explains, “Obviously, one could easily abandon art without becoming a member of the Facebook group. This [Facebook] page merely provides an opportunity for others to see the good deeds of the group members as well as share experiences and feelings about the topic.” So members use the page to post photos of their artwork at the drop sites, discuss creative topics, and suggest good locations for abandoning their art.

Michael also discusses the pros and cons of various drop locations:

·         Retail stores: Good for exposure, but the juxtaposition with items for sale might be confusing to shoppers, or unappreciated by store owners.

·         Planes, trains, boats and other public transit: Your art could travel far and end up on another continent, but unidentified packages aren’t popular among security personnel.

·         Nature: Remote locations make your gift that much more unexpected when found, but weather is a factor and discovery may take longer.

·         Adrift at sea: Romantic notion, but not worth the pollution potential (unless it’s biodegradable)

·         Hotels: Good chance it will be found, but may end up in the lost and found cabinet since housekeepers don’t want to be accused of stealing.

Joanne Archer contributed several photos of her abandoned art
 for The Art Abandonment Project book, including this piece left
 on a rocky beach, including one of the standard labels provided for the
 Facebook group. In the book she says, “Once I abandon something,
 I can forget all about it. I have no wish to know who found it,
 nor receive thanks. I only hope that the finder enjoys it.”
(Photo by Joanne Archer)

·         The Big City: Plenty of people in all walks of life, but avoid locations where it might just be perceived as trash.

On April Fool’s day, Friedel Kammler dropped a collage he created with
 parts from printed paintings, on a safety-ring in the Harbor in Fonyod,
 Lake Balaton, Hungary, which made a nice tableau. The second drop that day
—a tiny altered matchbox, with a golden stone inside painted with the
 words “Love is Forever”—was left in the clutched hands of two public
 statues—Adam and Eve. (Photo by Friedel Kammler)

Some abandoners prefer complete anonymity and leave their gifts without a note or even a signature on their art. But, those who leave a note of explanation with the opportunity to respond by email, can sometimes get encouraging validation for their efforts. One example: “Last night we decided to take the kids to the park just before dark, and there on a tree was hanging the most beautiful piece of art, with such an appropriate message, (live out loud) with a clock and beautiful flowers, it brought tears to my eyes, I feel so lucky to have found this beautiful work of art, how can it get better than that? Thank you!!!”

With 14,000+ members, the Facebook-linked group has spread all over the world. When I sent out a request to members for photos of abandoned art, the first response came from Friedel Kammler of Hungary. For April Fool’s Day, he made two “drops”—a collage he created from a painting, left on a life-preserver near a harbor; and a tiny, altered matchbox, with a gold-painted stone inside inscribed with the words “Love is forever,” left in the clasped hands of a naked Adam and Eve statue. Friedel also scatters the work of two Canadian friends he made through the Facebook page, who send him packages of their own handcrafted items to be abandoned in Hungary.

Art Abandoner Gari Vibber says she left this parcel
 on the Oswegatchie River before ice-out. The April
 Fool’s Day challenge put out on the Facebook page by
 Michael deMeng was to make a drop in an unusual place.
 She says the gift was a photograph with an inspirational
 saying, “double-sealed in a waterproof container
 and set free to find its way.” (Photo by Gari Vibber)

Another artist I heard from—Gari Vibber—who creatively abandons jewelry and photographs in icy locations in upstate New York, said, “First, I must tell you that this is such an enlightening, upbeat, encouraging group. I have long been an anonymous, pay-it-forward, random-act-of-kindness kind of gal... this growing movement has insisted I step out of my comfort zone and try new things.”

Besides this drop on a car wash change machine, Gari Vibber of
 upstate New York sent photos of her artwork left on a
 windshield while the owner was out on Lake Ontario ice fishing,
at a restaurant counter with pasta and spaghetti sauce for sale,
 and on a “take me” table at a local church. (Photo by Gari Vibber)

After hearing from these artists and their generous pay-it-forward attitude, I decided it was time for me to step out as well. But deciding what to leave seemed as challenging as finding the right location. Should the gift be not too gender specific? Should it be something practical, such as note cards or jewelry? Should I make my first drop locally or further away? I wanted to be anonymous, but I also wanted the finder to know that this was an intentionally abandoned item, not just forgotten. Maybe too, it was a little hard for me to let go.

Finally, I put the standard AAP note inside a Ziploc (along with my gift) and asked my husband to make the drop. He chose a picnic table near a church parking lot. The gift was gone by the next day, set free to find its own way.