Weavers are making a big comeback as looms return
Looms that have been in storage for decades are being brought back to life to create a new generation of handmade textiles rich in Scottish heritage. SANDRA DICK reports
THEY passed from one generation to the next, great lumps of machinery that had gobbled up countless miles of yarn while their rhythmic “clip clop” seeped under back garden shed doors into village streets.
Annie Mackay remembers the distinctive clatter of the weavers’ old Hattersley looms as she walked home from school. They were hard at work creating yard after yard of Harris Tweed, often with children on the floor alongside winding the pirns in return for pocket money while watching the fabric take shape and feeling the power of the loom at work.
She said: “There were weavers everywhere. You could hear the looms right around the village. But when the mills closed, village life changed. The looms were thrown out, they were worthless. It was a very dark time.”
Today, however, the looms of Harris and Lewis that survived the ignominy of the dump in the 1980s and 1990s are very much back in business.
From those dark days the craft has been reborn, with dazzling shades of shocking pinks to echo fiery Hebridean sunsets, creamy yellows and deep purples inspired by wildflowers and watery blues reflecting the lochs and sea sitting alongside traditional greys, browns, reds and greens of herringbone, dogtooth and barley twist.
Perhaps helped in no small part by the “Outlander” effect inspired by the television drama’s characters swathed in their handwoven shawls, it’s not just
Harris Tweed that is back in high demand from customers from around the world.
Right across Scotland a fresh generation of weavers is emerging in workshops and sheds, responding to rising demand for traditional tweeds and their brighter, more contemporary cousins and overcoming the complexities of the loom to discover a surprisingly sensory and physical craft.
Last week, one era in the history of Scottish handweaving came to an end with the death of one of the key figures behind the rejuvenation of Harris Tweed, Maureen Mackay. Alongside husband Donald John, she revitalised the fortunes of Luskentyre Harris Tweed Company and helped put the craft on the global map with collaborations with Nike, Converse and Clarks.
While the Harris Tweed community paid its respects, it was also embracing a new opportunity: Pakistan’s leading designer Hassan Sheheryar Yasin – known as HSY – showcased a collaboration with Harris Tweed Hebrides at Kelvingrove Museum, Glasgow, putting the textile at the forefront of a potentially lucrative and rapidly rising Islamic fashion market.
According to Lorna Macaulay, chief executive of the Harris Tweed Authority, the market is constantly growing.
“Demand is everywhere,” she says. “The Japanese market has been particularly buoyant through the last six or seven years. But something has shifted, consumers are making decisions around sustainable production methods and appreciating the value of something made by hand.”
A key factor in the rise in demand is customers who want Harris Tweed accessories and fabric for their home.
The average age of Harris Tweed weavers has dropped from 61 a decade ago, to 50, while their overall numbers have reached about 140 – as many as the local mills need to feed current demand.
Harris Tweed weavers include Annie, who had packed away the Hattersley loom that had been in her family for generations after having to discuss with her husband how they might survive with no income from their weaving business.
She said: “No-one wanted tweed in the Eighties and Nineties. The mills didn’t have orders, and weavers didn’t have any work. We didn’t know if we would have any money coming in.”
She worked in finance and for a homeless service until a cousin seeking a home for an unused family Hattersley Domestic loom reignited her interest in weaving. Her Crotal Harris Tweed business was launched last year and to her astonishment, almost without trying to find customers, has delivered orders to Germany, France, America and Russia.
In Newburgh, Fife, Jimmy Hutchison’s old loom is also back in action. Originally from South Uist, Jimmy, 75, learned to weave as a young man but sold his 1919 Thomas Kennedy loom to Stirling District Council in the early 80s on condition he could buy it back one day.
By 2014 he had retrieved it, rebuilt it and sourced replacements for its missing parts. For the past couple of years it’s rattled and clattered in his weaving shed.
He said: “Weaving is such a tactile, sensory thing. It’s everything. The smell of the yarn, the feel – it’s a bit oily before it goes off to be washed and shrunk – you see the cloth growing and hear the sound of the shuttle. It’s hypnotic.”
As he works, he passes on his knowledge to Erika Douglas, 41, his partner in Newburgh Handloom Weavers and who recently restored her own Kennedy loom after retrieving it from storage in a Highland shed.
“I wanted to try weaving out of curiosity, with no inkling I was going to enjoy it so much,” she says. “There’s the sound the loom makes, and you can see the cloth come together and everything changing. I love learning this old skill.”
She works watched by her two sons,
Leo, seven and Bruno, who is four, hopeful they might one day want to make their own tweed.
Meanwhile, in Leith, textile designer Araminta Campbell, 30, uses a pair of heritage looms made by master craftsman George Wood and undyed British alpaca fleece spun into fine yarn to create shawls, scarves, cushions and blankets that sell for more than £2,100.
Perhaps surprisingly, she says weaving requires a mathematical mind to work out the patterns, weights and scale of the yarn plus physical strength to work the loom and bring it together. “People are becoming more interested in where things are from. It’s like a slow fashion movement,” she says.
She found one of her looms in a shed on the edge of Loch Fyne. No longer in use, its owner – as often seems the way with looms – had kept it hoping to find someone who would love it just as much as they did.
She added: “Weavers love their looms and there’s passion in weaving and creating something that someone wants to buy.”