Exquisite textiles, lasting beauty

By Victoria Gail-White
Special to The Advertiser

•	'Tied, Bound, Folded and Stitched' Tie-dyed textiles from the academy's collection 1-5 p.m. today 10 a.m. and 4:30 p.m. Tuesday-Thursday Ends Thursday Honolulu Academy of Arts 532-8701

The connection between the "Tied, Bound, Folded and Stitched" textile exhibit at the Honolulu Academy of Arts and the Temari "Tie/Dye Shibori Dyeing Conference and Family Festival" hosted by the academy at the Academy Art Center next month is a great example of real serendipity. They weren't organized to overlap, but fortunately for us, they do.

The "Tied, Bound, Folded and Stitched" exhibit is a selection of 31 textiles (scarves, shawls, kimonos, skirts, head cloths, a sari and a man's shirt) from the academy's extensive collection that exemplify resist-dyed (tie-dyed) cloth techniques dating from the 14th to the 20th century.

Resist-dye techniques involve binding, folding, stitching or tying an area of cloth before it is dyed. This area doesn't absorb the dye; it resists it. The various techniques create different patterns. Many of the patterns are formed by a series of dots.

"Almost every culture is connected by these dots," says Sara Oka, collections manager of textiles for the art museum. "It's a basic form of textile decoration, and every continent has some form of tie-dye."

A contemporary example for us would be the electric tie-dye T-shirts of the 60s and the revival of tie-dye fabrics in designer fashions today.

Tie-dye has a long history. Records show that it existed in India and Mesopotamia as far back as 5000 B.C. A piece of resist-dyed mummy cloth dating 1000 B.C. was exhumed in Egypt. It is believed that these dyeing techniques traveled the trade routes from India to Egypt.

The techniques were introduced to Japan by China around 400 B.C. and to Indonesia by Indian traders about 400 A.D.

Every culture calls it by its own name. The academy's collections of resist-dyed textiles from India are called bandhani, Japan's shibori, Cambodia's kiet, Indonesia's plangi and from the Philippines tritik.

All the tying, binding, folding and stitching in the world don't mean a thing if it ain't got a good dye bath. "You have to be a chemist to know about dyeing formulas," says Oka. "It is so complicated. Many of the colors come from roots, leaves, bark and insects. There is meaning behind the colors and the combinations of colors used. Different colors identified different tribes and classes of people."

The mastery of dyeing developed in India. The color Tyrian purple, for instance, was made from shellfish secretions and extremely difficult to produce. Because of this, it became the color of luxury and royalty. Intrigue surrounded color recipes. The formulas were highly sought after and guarded with one's life.

Many factors come into play with dye colors — the quality of the dry materials, the mordants (organic acids, inorganic acids and salts necessary to fix the dye to the cloth), the qualities of various fabrics and the water used. The water around Jamnagar, India, for example, is said to bring forth the brightest red.

"It is the process that is satisfying," says Oka. "It transcends more than the end product. You become addicted to it. It is a rhythmic, trance-like experience."

What is interesting to note about the exhibit is the change in the range and depth of dye colors and complexity of patterns.

A Japanese "Kimono Fragment" (the oldest in the exhibit) from the late Muromachi period (1392-1573) is a fascinating study in combining techniques and color. It is clear from the sample that some of the artisans were more skilled than others, yet the overall effect is simply beautiful.

The "Shawl or Possibly Turban" (No. 21) from Rajasthan, India, first half of the 20th century, has Oka puzzled. It is made from a sheer silk fabric that has been folded and then bound in such a way as to create miniscule dots of color. The intensity of the pattern and the sequence of color are mind-boggling — white, yellow and magenta with a turquoise background. Was the magenta applied individually with a very fine brush?

A very rare example of a 20th century man's shirt from the Kulaman people of the Philippines is made from woven abaca, Manila hemp fibers and stitch-resisted in amazing detail. This one was dyed a reddish color — reserved for warriors who had killed at least five people.

Oka, who handles extraordinary textiles every day, wonders about their stories. How did they manage to get to Hawai'i?

Ancient patterns often were taken from nature. The small dots are reminiscent of stars. In a very practical way, they bring the stars down to Earth.