Everybody in the knitting world probably already knows about Eddie the Eagle (scroll down for the trailer), the upcoming movie about Britain’s first Olympic ski jumper, which hits U.S. theatres on February 26. The Knitting for E campaign has knitters and crocheters making E hats to promote the movie. Knitting as PR campaign: this may be a first. I don’t know about you, but I am all for anything that gets Hugh Jackman cheering for knitters. (Hugh: call me. I’m losing steam on this cardigan, and my shoulders are a little oochy.)
Well, guess what, Ann? Our friend Juliet Bernard knit the actual “I’m Eddie’s Mum” intarsia sweater worn in the movie. I know! The knitting world is so small that you can spot a knit in a flick and know the knitter who made it.
How did it happen? Juliet’s yarn company, Yarn Stories, in Yorkshire, England, got the call from a producer to design and make the sweater. And they did it all in a big hurry. Knitters: they get the job done. Very proud of you, Juliet! It’s good to know that Eddie’s mum’s sweater is made of Juliet’s beautiful merino wool. She deserves it.
Last Call for Kaffe Kwilts
I’m ringing the closing-time bell for anyone within hollering distance of Doylestown, Pennsylvania: this weekend is the last two days of a lovely exhibit at the James A. Michener Museum. It’s called Blanket Statements: New Quilts by Kaffe Fassett and Historical Quilts from the Collection of the Quilt Museum and Gallery, York, UK. After weeks of texting plans that kept getting rejiggered due to weather and whatnot, my pal Julie and I drove out to Doylestown yesterday, just in the nick of time.
It was fascinating to see Kaffe’s splashy, florid quilts paired with 19th century quilts from the UK. It was also a little jarring to think of patchwork quilts, so cemented into my mind as Americana, as a thing that was also happening across the sea. The old quilts were muted in palette but so lively and graphic; the immediacy of a good quilt does not fade with the fabrics. And the rest of the Michener Museum was delightful. Exquisite George Nakashima furniture, a collection of unsettling, glowing paintings by Linden Frederick, and a roomful of non-textile works inspired by quilts.
On our way out of town, we stopped at the Moravian Pottery and Tile Works, because how could you drive by a building like that, with a sign that said Moravian Pottery and Tile Works, and not stop?
A circa 1900 tile works, still operating pretty much the same way now as it did then.
I wanted to put on an apron and start pressing molds into local clay and dipping tiles in slip. Although I generally lack any inclination toward the woo woo, whenever I am in an old-school workshop environment–be it a letterpress shop or a low-ceilinged room in which clay is mixed using steam power, I feel quite certain that I have done that kind of work before.