The cartoon painters are the masters of the graphic language of the tapestry. They execute the “cartoon” (or “carton”), which constitutes the working material of the weavers: it is a model, the work of an artist adapted to the dimensions of the future tapestry – whether it is wall-hanged, on the floor or an upholstery. Slid under the warp yarn of the low warp loom, it guides the craftsmen all along the weaving process.

“As ancient as it, I doubt that neither the weaver’s technique nor the looms can be changed […] but the painters can vary the style in creating the cartoons, the form, the subject, the colors […] The eras which have increased the amount of colors in one single wall-hanging, have not increased their wealth to do so. Nowadays the excessive austerity which aims towards simplicity, risk to drive us to a poverty which is retrieved only through the input of weaved material, but without taking advantage of the colored vibrations and the velvety and warm values of the wool. It demands a particular writing […] which is not at any time neither a wall-painting, nor an enlarged easel canvas. […] And when the weaver collaborates to the establishment of a work, the collaboration needs to be complete, and the painter must think “wool”, that is to say his cartoon must be exclusively conceived toward this aim and should not be executed unless by using this method, and he should make the most of what its wonderful qualities can bring him.” Louis-Marie Julien (1904 – 1982)

Originally, the painters provided models in the form of oils or gouache, or in grisaille painting leaving to the care of the ateliers the adaptation of the sketch to the dimensions of the tapestry.

The cartoon painters transform a sketch into a cartoon, on scale with the future tapestry, left/right reversed to match with the inside out weaving. It is a rewriting of the original work, adapted to the specificity of the weaving techniques, which will give weaving indications to the weaver. This primary work to the tapestry can be considered as a mere tool, which is to be thrown away if it is too worn out by dint of being hooked under the loom, after having done a “clean” copy.

The 20th Century has transformed the way we consider the cartoon. The tapestry renovation initiated by Aubusson’s National School of Decorative Arts, and then by Jean Lurçat, modified the elaboration method of the cartoon. It allowed many artists to receive education in cartoon writing, becoming true “cartoon painters” integrating the materiality of the wool within their creation process and distinguishing themselves from the other painters, who painted only small sized sketches. From the 1980’s onwards, from mere pattern, the cartoon has sometimes earned the statue of artistic work. Some public sales have mirrored this evolution, with cartoons whose selling price sometimes exceeded the price of their weaved double.

According to the type of sketch and the will of the artist, the work method, the size and the ateliers headcount, if the person realizing the cartoon makes the weaving herself or not etc. this translation in preparation for “wooling” varies a lot. The cartoon can be more or less truthful to the original work, from a mere enlargement on scale with the tapestry with a few indications, truthful transcription of the image pattern and its colors as conceived by the artist, to a complete translation of the work, whose variations, gradation etc. are transposed into graphic codes indicating particular weaving techniques, and the colors can be replaced by numbers. Each number then matches with a shade of wool coming from a string of assortment obtained thanks to the researches of a colorist.

Nowadays, even if the cartoon makers are still skilled designers, most of those cartoons are made through numerical impressions or photographical printing.

The role of the spinner is to select the best suited wool for weaving, to produce a thread corresponding to the required level of quality for Aubusson tapestries.

Handmade spinning suits very well smaller orders from artistic professions, such as weavers: the thread thickness is adapted to its weaving use (25 to 26 micrometer).

The wool sometimes comes from New-Zealand or Australia, but for some specific realizations, in order to match at best with the weaver’s demand, the spinner could rather use the products of a French wool worker. Creuse and Limousin are thought of as historical ovine breeding territories. The breeders and the wool craftsman always integrate in this sector.

The first step of the spinning is the carding, where the wool is detangled when going through the drums of the card. Filled with very thin steel peaks and turning at full speed, the card allows dividing and paralleling the wool fibers. Following the size of the fiber and the destination of the thread, the wool is spun directly coming out the card or, in the case of extra fine wool, combed once more.

Strands and ribbons of wool are then obtained and will be turned into yarns. It is now time to stretch them on the spinning frame to refine them progressively. This step is called roving and at this point, the obtained thread is not resistant at all and can be ripped off by only pulling on it. It is actually the twist born from the threading with a couple other strands which increases its resistance and make it more regular (the ply yarns).

Thin, rather elastic and warped, the yarn is generally white or off-white (except in the case of naturally brown or black wool) and can thus goes to the vat of dye.

Once they are sorted by fiber type and quality, the fleeces go through different preparing treatments before getting ready to be spun.

These wool-priming steps are conducted by specialized firms: wool washing. There is only a few remaining washing centers in France, among them the Lavage de Laines du Bourbonnais, right next to the Creuse department.

In its raw state, the wool contains a percentage of impurities that goes from 30 to 70%. To be able to be spun, it has to get rid of the maximum amount of foreign bodies (sand, soil residue, vegetal fibers, seeds etc.) and of most of the grease. This grease, called “suint” in French (wool grease), is produced by the sheep to protect himself. It is sometimes collected during the washing process, to be refined for the cosmetic industry (lanolin).

The washing process occurs in two steps: skirting (“louvetage” in French), which is a dry-cleaning treatment to dust the wool, then scouring, which is the passage of the wool throughout a series of hot baths (50 to 60°C/122 to 140°F) of water, soap and sometimes lye or any other degreasing base. The washing is progressive. Soaking comes first to eliminate soil residue and the water-soluble wool grease. Then the soap degreasing part allows the elimination of the non-water-soluble grease (the “suintine” in French) which only dissolves under the influence of soap. Then the wool gets rinsed and dried.

However, it is important to leave a tiny amount of lanolin, because when the wool gets too degreased, the following steps of carding and spinning would cause a problem and the weaving would be more difficult. Indeed, some clothes, tweeds for instance, need to keep a huge amount of grease.

Finally, some wools can be chemically whitened during the oxygenation phase. The wool can then get in the hands of the spinner, who will transform it in threads.

Tissage de basse-lisse.

Une exposition inattendue !

Pour l’été 2018, la Cité de la tapisserie réinvestit les salles de l’ancien musée départemental de la tapisserie avec une exposition originale consacrée aux tapisseries brodées d’artistes entre 1880 et 1950. La présentation explore ainsi les origines de la Rénovation de la tapisserie au XX^e siècle et met en avant les femmes restées dans l’ombre des artistes dont elles ont brodé les œuvres.

Bruno Ythier, conservateur de la Cité de la tapisserie, assure le co-commissariat de cette exposition aux côtés de Danièle Véron-Denise, conservatrice honoraire des textiles au musée du Château de Fontainebleau.

À la fin du XIX^e siècle, les artistes d’avant-garde, séduits par l’esthétique de la tapisserie médiévale, cherchent à faire tisser leurs œuvres selon ces techniques. Mais celles-ci sont perdues et ces artistes n’ont ni la notoriété ni les moyens pour faire appel aux manufactures d’État ou aux ateliers privés. Ils se tournent alors vers des femmes de leur premier cercle (épouse, sœur, mère).

Considérées comme des « ouvrages de dames » ces œuvres ont été peu collectionnées par les musées français et se trouvent aujourd’hui surtout en Hollande, au Danemark, en Allemagne, ou dans des collections privées. Il s’agit donc de présenter une sélection de pièces textiles rares souvent plus vues en France depuis un siècle.

Aristide Maillol, Émile Bernard, Paul-Élie Ranson, Fernand Maillaud, Jean Arp, Paul Deltombe, Jean Lurçat, Henri de Waroquier, Roger Bissière, etc. Plusieurs des artistes exposés sont d’ailleurs des chevilles ouvrières de la Rénovation de la tapisserie, à travers le travail textile de femmes intimes.

POURQUOI CETTE EXPOSITION ?
Par Bruno Ythier, Conservateur de la Cité de la tapisserie

Cette présentation est totalement inédite, car c’est la première fois que sont rassemblées autant d’œuvres brodées d’artistes de la fin du XIX^e au milieu du XX^e siècle. Nombre des brodeuses, épouses ou mères de ces artistes, ont consciemment ou pas, préparé la Rénovation de la tapisserie au XX^e siècle.

À la fin du XIX^e siècle, la tapisserie de lisse ne répondait pas aux aspirations des avant-gardes artistiques qu’étaient le postimpressionnisme ou le mouvement Nabi. Depuis les années 1875, artistes et critiques voulaient rénover cet art décoratif et lui faire quitter l’influence des peintres au profit des architectes et des décorateurs. À cette époque, plusieurs expositions de tapisseries anciennes, médiévales et Renaissance, montraient leur simplicité formelle, leurs couleurs franches. Elles permettaient de mesurer des siècles d’évolutions techniques, vers toujours plus de finesse, de variété de coloris, de manière picturale.

Si les pouvoir publics souhaitaient donc réformer l’art de la tapisserie, ils ne pouvaient que peu intervenir dans la manière de tisser, car celle-ci était l’apanage des lissiers veillant jalousement sur leurs prérogatives. Ainsi toute une filière était organisée autour de la finesse (9 à 10 fils de chaîne par cm). L’intervention de l’administration des Beaux-Arts se portait principalement sur le choix des artistes et l’iconographie.

Les artistes de l’école de Pont-Aven, les Nabis, comme Émile Bernard, Aristide Maillol ou Paul-Élie Ranson étaient fascinés par la tapisserie médiévale. Ayant changé l’écriture de l’estampe et révolutionné l’art de graver, ils allaient faire de même avec la tapisserie. Bernard débuta dès les années 1880 ; Maillol prit le sujet à bras le corps et créa même ses propres teintures. Grâce au travail de leurs compagnes ou mères brodeuses, ils retrouvaient, enfin ce très gros grain que les lissiers contemporains, d’où qu’ils fussent, ne pouvaient leur réaliser et que de toute façon, les artistes n’avaient pas les moyens de financer.

Il y eut les époux Maillaud et le peintre Jean Lurçat dont l’épouse Marthe Hennebert, lui fit percevoir le potentiel architectural et monumental du textile. Il y eut les époux Deltombe, amis du Directeur de l’École Nationale d’Art Décoratif d’Aubusson, Antoine Marius Martin. Ce dernier, arrivé à Aubusson en 1917, voulait non seulement renouveler les artistes, mais aussi totalement repenser la façon de tisser. Ce graveur postimpressionniste appréciait beaucoup les interprétations d’Yvonne Deltombe aux couleurs véritablement réduites, aux formes affirmées, au grain de tissage trois fois plus gros qu’en tapisserie de lisse. Sa révolution technique à Aubusson ne se fit pas sans mal : le conseil Municipal vota une motion demandant sa destitution et le député Camille Bénassy protesta contre ses méthodes qui détruisaient le savoir faire des peintres et  des ouvriers aubussonnais dont il a ruiné l’école par ses prétentions à rénover l’industrie de la tapisserie.

Les broderies ne représentaient qu’une part de la production de ces artistes mais ils la considéraient comme ayant eu une grande influence, voire ayant été un tournant dans leur carrière.

Ces collaborations intimes entre artistes et leur mère ou épouse, ont mobilisé la technique de la broderie au plus près de la pensée créatrice. Cette connivence était fondamentale pour réussir l’interprétation du projet initial vers le textile. Les musées et amateurs d’Europe du Nord l’ont bien compris et ont largement collectionné ces broderies d’artistes. La France a hélas trop souvent considéré ces pièces comme des ouvrages de dames, sans en comprendre l’importance artistique.

By Jean-François Luneau, lecturer and researcher in the History of Art at the University of Clermot-Auvergne in France.

John Ronald Reuel Tolkien (1892-1973) is not only the author we all know, but he was also a talented illustrator. Many of his writings published when he was alive are accompanied by his illustrations.

As of 1920, Tolkien got into the habit of sending his children a letter signed by Father Christmas himself every year. These letters were accompanied by one or more wonderfully detailed illustrations that depicted the story told by Father Christmas. In 1926, he illustrated the Northern lights in the Land of Father Christmas. Two years later, he depicted a Clumsy Polar Bear helping Father Christmas prepare the Presents. In 1933, he wrote and illustrated the story telling of Father Christmas quietly sleeping in his newly decorated bedroom, while his loyal polar bear, helped by red elves, chased the goblins who invaded the cave where the presents were being prepared..

This child-friendly art is obviously not the most famous of Tolkien’s works: we are more familiar with his stories set in Middle-earth. Drawing on the influence of epic poems from Anglo-Saxon literature (such as Beowulf), the Icelandic or Norwegian Sagas, the Icelandic Eddas collection, the Finnish Kalevala or certain William Morris novels, Tolkien creates a fantasy world within the fertile setting of Middle-earth, which recalls the fertile setting of Brittany.

It is here, in this setting, teeming with figures and myths, that Tolkien brings his characters to life. In the same way that you pull on a yarn of wool to undo the ball, Tolkien unravels their stories, even if it means returning to the initial skein and adding to it to tie it in with the great finished novels such as The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings.

Several of Tolkien’s illustrations accompany the birth and growth of Middle-earth, depicting its geographical originality. The works that refer to different episodes are also a pretext for presenting the landscapes. The Halls of Manwë on the Mountains of the World above Faërie, drawn in 1928, represents Taniquetil, the High Shining White Peak dominating the Pelóri mountains, those towering mountainous defences that protect the Eastern borders of Valinor, country of the Valar. The mansion of the first Valar, Manwë, is perched on its summit where he reigns with his wife, Varda. The Taniquetil is certainly one of those ‘mountains seen far away, never to be climbed’ that Tolkien evokes in one of the letters to his son Christopher (Letter 96).

Beleriand, on the Western edge of Middle-earth, is where the events of the First Age take place. Lake Mithrim is situated in North Beleriand, in Hithlum. It is here, on the shores of the lake, that Fëanor wins the second battle against the armies of Morgoth, also called the Battle under the Stars. Glaurung sets forth to seek Túrin is one of the final episodes of The Lay of the Children of Húrin, written between 1918 and 1925, which ends in the death of the dragon Glaurung and the suicide of Túrin. This first dragon created by Morgoth, a fallen Valar, is as feared for the fire he breathes as for the bewitching words he speaks and his hypnotic lidless eyes.

Beleriand disappears at the end of the First Age, submerged after the fall of Morgoth and the ensuing cataclysm. The fate of Númenor Island, on the west side of the World, between Valinor and Middle-earth, is no better. It is a kingdom founded by men that sinks into the sea at the end of the Second Age. In the Third Age, its past splendour is but a memory, just like the Númenorian Carpet, where the geometrical perfection of the shape reflects the kingdom at its birth.

Tolkien provided illustrations for The Hobbit, a novel published in 1937, from the very first editions. Sometimes the drawings were in black and white, like The Trolls, whose air of stupidity disappears against a dark forest background magnified by the monochrome effect. As with some of the works mentioned above, the human characters often blend into a spectacular landscape. Rivendell and its Last Homely House evokes the scenery of the Swiss Alps. In Bilbo Woke Up with the Early Sun in His Eyes and Bilbo comes to the Huts of the Raft-elves, the majesty of the landscapes eclipses the figures of Bilbo asleep, or of the dwarves as burlesque victors perched on barrels. Lastly, in Conversation with Smaug, a dragon with a keen sense of smell and as talkative as he is dangerous, Tolkien chose the moment when Bilbo greets him: ‘Oh Smaug the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities’.

In The Lord of the Rings, an epic novel that follows on from The Hobbit and was published in 1954-55, Tolkien explains why the elves left Middle-earth at the end of the Third Age. The Forest of Lothlórien in Spring illustrates the ‘land of Lórien’, where in Frodo’s eyes, ‘there was no stain’: a forest outside of space and time, and populated with mallorns, those trees with golden leaves.

As for The Tower of Orthanc rising at the centre of the Ring of Isengard, a region offered for safe-keeping to Saruman by the steward of Gondor, the illustration by Tolkien may actually be less scary than the text itself.

Tolkien’s rich Middle-earth setting provided him with the substance to weave long narratives and create several texts – a name also given to fabrics according to a multimillenial metaphor. And now, Tolkien’s illustrations will be woven into a tapestry wall-hanging. Whether they be epic or comic in nature, or just simple landscapes, Tolkien’s illustrations are ideal for being transposed into tapestry. As we cannot visit the palace of Théoden in Edoras, whose walls are adorned with tapestries narrating the deeds of the ancestor of the Rohan knights, Eorl the Young, we can at least admire the woven memory of Tolkien’s fantasy world.

The starting point for this Tolkien wall hanging is a collection of original watercolours and drawings made by the famous author, kept at the Bodleian Library in Oxford and most of which do not measure more than 20 cm on any edge. It takes every bit of Aubusson expertise to successfully transpose these small formats into a woven work of several metres square, while honouring the original works. Our pledge: to create a wall-hanging in the spirit of the time when the illustrations were created.

The first stage consists of establishing the final formats of each tapestry, their technical blueprints and the range of wool colours used, with the aim of creating a harmonious wall-hanging while also honouring the original works.

The next stage is creating the ‘tapestry cartoons’ (painted plaster-board models) scaled to the real size of the future tapestries and that serve as a guide to the hand weavers during weaving. Bruno Ythier, curator if the Cité internationale de la tapisserie, gives an overview of this transposing technique: “It is Aubusson know-how that dates back to more than five hundred years ago. It is the work of the cartoon painter, who transposes the work. And it is not just a case of enlarging the work as the weavers point out with this anecdote: ‘You start with a tiny rose on the picture, and if you thoughtlessly enlarge it, you end up with a cabbage.’ The enlarged illustration needs to be reworked bit by bit to restore the spirit of the original. A whole range of technical parameters need to be taken into account, especially the properties of the wool itself. Wool absorbs light, which implies that colours must be as saturated as possible when the wool is dyed to obtain colours that are as vibrant in the woven fabric as in the original works.”

Once each illustration has been digitalised in high resolution, and with a view to creating enlarged versions, a weaving committee comprising cartoon painter Delphine Mangeret, who will be transposing all the works onto the cartoons, the curator of the Cité de la tapisserie and the head weaver, René Duché, was created in Spring 2017 to think about all the production constraints imposed on the weavers working on the project. The weaving workshops will be selected after submitting samples of work.

The first cartoon, which sets the tone for entire wall hanging, was prepared by cartoon painter Delphine Mangeret. This piece was chosen as the graphic standard for the wall hanging as a whole because of its very tapestry-like nature and its similarities with works created within the National School of Decorative Art in Aubusson in the 1930s. The weaving committee was inspired to opt for a return to past traditions promoted by the School at that time through bold colours and a very specific technical draft influenced by 15th and 16th century tapestry work, and rarely in use today.

The cartoon of the Bilbo comes to the Huts of the Raft-Elves illustration will be guiding the first woven work in autumn 2017, after a call for tenders launched among the weaving workshops in the Aubusson-Felletin area. The workshop in charge of the weaving will be designated in mid-November 2017 and will be creating the tapestry work in the Cité’s workshop where an eight-metre-long loom is made available to weavers for large-scale orders. This workshop will be open to visitors four times a week.

Discover the weaving preparation:

This project came to light after much thought on the form a large tapestry wall-hanging with a literary narrative would take today. The name of J.R.R. Tolkien quickly came to the fore as author of one of the greatest literary sagas of the 20th century.

The project is structured around four series, each linked to different works by the author: Letters from Father Christmas (a collection of letters written and illustrated by J.R.R. Tolkien for his children between 1920 and 1942), The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and finally, The Silmarillion (a work published posthumously in 1977 by J.R.R. Tolkien’s son, Christopher Tolkien), which traces the first Ages of Middle-earth – the setting for his novels. 13 mural tapestries will be created. The fourteenth piece, the Numenorean Carpet, is a woven floor-covering of about 130 square metres. This will take months of meticulous work in the French tapestry-crafting manufactures and workshops of Aubusson and the Creuse that specialise in the very same Aubusson tapestry techniques recognised by UNESCO, and added to the lists of Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity in 2009..

Such a large project showcasing this major aspect of the author’s work has never been seen before. Using Aubusson tapestry craftsmanship to weave this series of 14 pieces based on the illustrative works of J.R.R. Tolkien is very innovative in the world of tapestry today. It creates a link to the great narrative wall-hangings (series of tapestries illustrating the different parts of a story) of the 17th and 18th centuries that made reference to important literary texts (Homer’s Odyssey, or Renaud and Armide taken from Torquato Tasso’s Jerusalem Delivered, etc.). This direct link to literature was lost in the 19th and 20th centuries.

Today, in the 21st century, this project of weaving the illustrative works of J.R.R. Tolkien has an added originality: it benefits from illustrations created by the author of the literary works himself, which is a first in the history of great narrative wall hangings.

Every due respect will be given to the original works as the Cité de la tapisserie embarks on this heritage-based adventure of combining Aubusson tapestry, a major decorative art, with the illustrative works of J.R.R. Tolkien that are so suited to becoming history-in-the-making tapestries, embedded as they are in a ‘present-day mythology’. The sheer monumentality of this woven wall-hanging project will invite viewers to immerse themselves in the fantasy world of J.R.R. Tolkien as never before. In the wake of Charles Le Brun’s L’Histoire d’Alexandre (The History of Alexander) or Isaac Moillon’s L’Odyssée d’Ulysse (Ulysses’ Odyssey), it is now the illustrative and narrative universe of J.R.R. Tolkien that will live on through the ages alongside his books.