For as long as I can remember I have had a passion for patterned textiles. I can't think of any reason why this should be, but so it is, and I can spend much happy time gazing at them in museums or fingering them in shops. Imagine, then, what patchwork does for me, and you will get an idea of the pleasure I've had today at the V&A Quilt Exhibition. There was so much to look at here that my eyes and brain were quite tired by the end of it -- I took an hour and a half to go round, much of it spent stationary in front of various intricate coverlets, trying to work out how on earth anyone ever managed to plan the thing, let alone actually make it.
I thought it would be the antique ones I would like the best and in general this was true, but there's an interesting mix throughout the exhibition of contemporary pieces using quilting and patchwork techniques, and some of these are lovely too. And, of course, the historical dimension is interesting, too -- people stitching contemporary political messages into their quilts, like the Wellington one at the top, or adding squares with uplifting moral messages for quilts to be used in hospitals. A glorious, huge quilt -- the Rajah Quilt -- was made by the women prisoners on a convict ship going to Tasmania in the mid-nineteenth century. And one of the most moving comes right near the end -- a quilt made specially for the exhibition by the inmates of Wandsworth Prison, who have their own embroidery class. Each of the members had designed and made their own square, some embroidered with messages or images of locks, keys and bars, others with delicate, intricately pieced floral motifs.
Of course the V&A entraps you with a most delicious shop through which you have to pass to get out. It would be a strong minded person indeed who did not succumb to the display of traditional printed fabrics (which you can buy online here). I strong-mindedly bought just one piece, which perhaps may form the basis of a patchwork to while away the long winter evenings. This is what is looks like -- the pattern dates from the 1830s:
And I'm afraid I also bought a book -- full price, and of course I could have got it for half on Amazon, but too late to worry about that. Kaffe Fassett, whose amazing knitwear patterns I used to follow in the 1980s, has published several books on quilts and quilting, and here is the one I bought:
So roll on the winter so I can get started (well, not really, but you know what I mean).
