Crafting cloths and memories at Sturt Summer School

In January this year, I joined 11 wise women for a ‘Paint and Stitch’ class at Sturt Summer School. We each brought a couple of metres of plain linen, some embroidery threads, other bits and bobs, buttons and baubles and a sense of adventure to the Southern Highlands. 

This was the third time I’d attended one of the excellent Sturt Summer or Winter Schools. These are 5-day events held at Frensham School in Mittagong. This summer, 200 artists slept, dined, crafted and created across more than a dozen workshops: woodcarving, watercolour, lace making, calligraphy, printing and creative writing – to name a few. 

Our cloth panorama

The first day

Our group was led by Julie Paterson, a textile artist from the Blue Mountains. Her enthusiasm and energy inspired us all. 

We entered our airy, light-filled studio on the first day to find a series of sturdy tables pushed together to create a workbench more than 10 metres long. Straight away Julie sent us into the gardens to forage for shapes, leaves and objects that would later inform our sketches. Our first task, back in the studio, was to quickly draw a stylized version of these shapes. We used a range of tools: ink, charcoal, brushes, pens and even the twigs or pieces of bark we’d brought from outside. 

Our workbench at the start of the workshop

Julie selected two or three illustrations from each participant: one for what she referred to as ‘texture’, which turned out to be the base layer of painting, and another for what she called ‘form’, which was the more recognizable shapes for printing. 

After the sketching, we ripped apart and pulled together our various linen cloths, forming a tableau that was to become our artwork. We used industrial style sewing machines to sew the cloth sections together. I was the designated ironer as I’m not an experienced sewer.  

From this time onwards, we worked together as a team, laying out the cloths, deciding which pieces to stitch together, stitching, and grouping the larger pieces and reviewing the 10 m x 90 cm construction as it spilled over the lengthy table. 

It was a perfect way to start 2024. Have made it home and feeling very happy! I am looking forward to staying in touch and seeing how all our work progresses. Send lots of photos! - Carolyn 

We traced our own sketches, copying them onto stencil paper, which we cut into the shapes of the leaves, flowers, or objects. While we were doing this, Julie prepared the paints. She’d selected a palette of vibrant and less bright colours. We chose the lighter colours for our base layer. The idea was that we would each, using our own stencil and colours, paint our objects onto the cloth, placing our images randomly. These prints could be across seams, over the edges, slap bang in the middle of virgin cloth – wherever we wanted paint.  

For me, and I think for most of the others, this was an exciting – albeit initially a little intimidating – experience. As the stenciled and painted objects slowly coloured the fabric length, we started to see or imagine how the cloth might turn out. That first layer had to dry overnight so we all trouped to the dining room having done a day’s good work. 

Adding the first print layer

Meals at Sturt are always a joy. We chat across wooden tables and benches, enjoying the dining room food and relaying to our companions the events of the day. Everyone shares stories of what they did, what they will be doing, how challenging the classes are – or not. I adore this exchange between like-minded creatives. I learn new skills – and even get to try out a few. 

The second day

We stenciled the second or ‘form’ layer. Using bolder colours and shapes, we continued stenciling and painting onto our cloth. We felt we were creating something of beauty, value and meaning. I think we were all astonished at our collaborative project. We’d had no plan, no instruction on where to precisely paint, but intuitively we worked together, deciding how and where to make our own marks, creating an object of magical beauty. Julie was ever present, providing advice and guidance on some small aspects of the process. 

‘Thanks for a special few days creating such colour and joy together! My creative heart is full to the brim. Look forward to meeting again somewhere sometime and seeing all our creations as they emerge. It’s been such a blast!’ – Jayne 

Once again, we let the paint dry overnight, in preparation for the big ‘show and tell’ to the wider community. Julie had decided to ‘walk’ the cloth from our studio to the dining room for a breakfast parade. This was a special experience, which was enjoyed and appreciated by our group as well as our fellow artists who applauded us as we suspended our cloth on the raised stage. We knew this moment was exceptional and transitory as the next stage of the project was to cut our cloth. Never again would this 10-metre artwork exist in this same format. 

The ‘Print and Stitch’ cloth gang. Photo credit: Sturt Gallery & Studios and photographer Stephen Foster

The third day

Back at the studio, in front of cameras, Julie measured and snipped the cloth into equal sized pieces. She handed a random square of fabric to each participant. What we received was nowhere near what we’d brought with us to class. Instead, we each got a piece of linen fabric, printed and seamed, with colours, shapes and designs that we had all contributed to. This was a special moment in class as we admired each other’s handiwork, knowing we had all contributed to this spectacular event and object. 

Everything I could have hoped for. Great teacher and bunch of women. Memorable week. – Lynne 

We switched gear from then on and spent hours sitting, chatting and embellishing our own piece of cloth. Some women chose to cut their cloth even further, turning the pieces into delightful small bags, stitched, lined, buttoned, and one even clasped with an embroidery feather. I surprised myself by remembering embroidery stitches that I’d learnt in 1969 in Miss Ina Paarman’s Home Economics class at Good Hope High School. Where was that knowledge stored all these years? 

The stitching days

I was uncertain what to do with my own square of cloth: how to do justice to this piece of work? I decided to focus on a piece, or panel, that I could see as a whole and manage sitting at our communal table. 

I was astonished how everything I did seemed to be absorbed by the cloth: it takes a lot of stitching to fill the spaces. But over the next few days, as I stitched buttons, beads, even a chain, it all came together in a delightful way.  

My stitched and embellished piece of cloth

At the end of the 5 days of School, each workshop exhibits their own work. We laid our cloths on the table, hung our stencils and drawings on the window panes and on the walls and welcomed our visitors. But for me, the celebrations had occurred during the making process. It was the energy that filled our studio — laughter, discussions of many things, art, craft, creativity, sometimes frustration, camaraderie, and the making of new friends — which all together created an exhilarating compote of creation. I hope we’ll be back next year.