A long history
The tradition of quilting and patchwork to make bedding and clothing dates back to at least the 14th century. For warmth, a layer of padding would be sandwiched between the backing and the decorated front. Quilting is the stitching that keeps the layers in place. Quilted doublets were worn under armour, for example, while patchwork probably evolved out of the necessity of repairing worn-out material. As a fashion in Britain, quilting came into its own during the 17th and 18th centuries. Fabric was expensive, so in terms of domestic quilts, it was women with time on their hands who tended to make them. By the 19th century, advances in printing and dyeing techniques meant that material was cheaper and more colourful, and a patchwork craze took off in the early 1800s. While poorer households had simpler quilts for practical purposes and utilised scraps for patchworks, intricate appliquéd designs developed among the leisured classes. In North America, British and Dutch settlers popularised the craft. It was taken up enthusiastically in America, possibly because the pioneers had no easy access to ready-made wares, and their quilts became family heirlooms. Interest in quilting thrives to this day as Americans seek to discover their heritage.
She only uses natural fabric: cotton, linen and silk. “I bought bolts of Liberty lawn cotton in the 1980s. That’s all I used to use. It feels nice, and the designs are good, with lots of colours in them,” she explains. Quilters groups’ ‘stash sales’ are another great source of material, where a room full of people sell off fabric they bought for a past project. She rarely uses any plain fabric, even if the pattern is indistinct and blurry. “I like the idea that, when you get up close, there’s something else going on,” she says. “For example, the fabric for the wren’s wing I’ve just done has a butterfly design on it. From a distance, it just looks like a different tone. I’ve used William Morris’ feather design for a bird’s beak, which makes me smile. Looking at the fabric patterns keeps me interested as I’m stitching.” Once Louise has assembled the fabrics for the middle panel, she cuts out the shapes and pins them on. Her current quilt is based on the customer’s choice of plants, including fuchsias, ivy, rosehips and brambles. “I pin it all first, working from the bottom left to the top right,” she says. “I like the idea that it’s temporary at this stage. If I can’t decide what to do next, I’ll hang it on the wall while I get on with another sewing job.” When everything is pinned, which can take a week, she will begin stitching. A close zigzag machine stitch covers the raw edges. “The border is done afterwards from the heap of fabrics I’ve chosen, then stitched to the edge of the panel.” For the appliqué, she often uses a different thread tone to highlight such details as veins in leaves. The thread used for quilting is regular polycotton thread. The next stage is the quilting itself. Louise recently acquired a long-arm quilting machine that allows her to stitch along the entire width of the fabric without having to fold and pull it under the needle as on a standard sewing machine. It can take a quilt measuring 115in (292cm) across, which covers a king-size bed. A large roll of polyester wadding is suspended from the ceiling above it. The wadding is cut to size and sandwiched between a plain sheet backing and the decorative front. Then she steers the quilter along to stitch it all together. The quilting stitch sometimes follows the outline of the motifs themselves or meanders over the seams, depending on the quilt style. “It gives texture, and I like the way the light falls on it. Linen is quite heavy and could sag, so doing lots of stitching keeps it flat and makes the design stand out.”
Nature’s influence
Her inspiration clearly stems from the natural world around her. Louise denies that it is a conscious decision, though she is a keen gardener and understands the way plants grow. “I like plants on my quilts to be correct in that leaves go off in the right direction, so I look at pictures from different angles. But after that, they’re impressionistic and stylised,” she says.
“Looms numberless have groaned for me! Should every maiden come To scramble for the patch that bears The impress of the robe she wears” William Cowper, ‘ To Mrs King on Her Kind Present...’
Plants and birds feature on 85 per cent of her quilts. “Nature is right outside my window, but I’m not actively seeking it. I made a quilt with magpies on it, and I didn’t know why, because a lot of people don’t like magpies. A few days after I finished it, there were two magpies on the oak tree outside, and I realised I must have been looking at them.” Inspiration could just as easily come from ceramics, medieval tapestries or buildings. “I saw some simple leaf carvings on a church and took a picture,” Louise adds. “A long time later, I found I was doing similar stylised leaf shapes. I did some pea pods once and, ages later, realised my old herbal book had a pea pod print at the front of every chapter. Things get logged in my head and pop out.”
Lately, she has also been incorporating bird studies and landscapes into her quilts. “When I’m working to commission, I rarely say no. I like a challenge and working away from my usual themes,” she says. None of her offcuts are wasted. “I trim squares from my box of tiny pieces and assemble them into lengths of patchwork. These ribbons will frame appliquéd panels. The tiniest leftovers get cut into butterflies, leaves and berries.”
Practical and pictoral
Louise enjoys the fact that she is crafting practical textiles that can be used. “A lot do end up on someone’s wall, but that’s fine because it’s still useful. It changes the sound in the room and gives you something comforting to look at.” The quilts might be designed for everyday use, but they also pass muster as intricately fashioned artworks. Louise’s output is a collaboration with the customer, but she leaves her own stamp. “I want to enjoy what I’m doing and feel that I’ve made something that is satisfying, even though I’m always itching to get on with the next one because I think it will be better,” she says. “I like the way that somebody will see how I responded to their idea and know that there was a discussion going on. I’m always scared before I take one to somebody in case I’ve got it wrong. But I get some absurdly nice reactions, from ‘I am in awe of your talent’ to ‘It is absolutely beautiful and made me cry’.”