The Story of one Crewel Work Bed
A crewel work bed represents hundreds of hours of work and attention to numerous details. The result can be a fabulous textile ensemble that is a perfect compliment to a fine piece of furniture and a centerpiece for a lovely room setting.
Nine years ago, a customer requested that we prepare the materials for an ambitious needlework project. We vegetable-dyed finely spun worsted yarn and inked period designs on creamy-white linen fabric, forming the beginnings of her crewel work bed. Time passed. As sometimes happens in all of our lives, the intentions of this project proved to be less compelling than the reality of events that followed. The short version of the story is that our customer contacted us several years later to see whether we could transfer this project from her schedule to ours.
We embarked on the task eagerly. Our workshop had recently completed another, more elaborate crewel bed - a project that had methodically progressed over nearly five years. That experience sparked our interest in the artistic possibilities that large scale crewelwork projects offer in our line of work. Just as period textiles historically required a monumental artistic effort from the women who created them, so too do reproduction crewel beds demand from us a level of consistent needle proficiency and design fluency not required by projects of smaller scope.
Because our customer’s husband had already created the reproduction bed that this project would dress, we planned to make the embroidered pieces in a sequence that would allow her to install finished elements as we worked. First, the valances, then the head cloth, and finally the two side curtains would be finished and delivered for use. The box containing the materials arrived at our studio, along with the end valance which we had previously worked as a stitch and color model for our client.
We immediately set to work embroidering the long side valances to complete the set. In most period work, the pieces making up a set of curtains or valances are composed of a combination of several items, neither identical nor completely different from one another. They generally have quite a bit in common - often consisting of the same flowers worked in either the same or in varying colors. The following photos of these valances show this variety in their overall appearance; the details illustrate the same section of all three pieces.
It required approximately four weeks for us to embroider and construct each valance, including lining the piece. Even though many period valances appear to have been unlined, this added step has become customary in modern times.
Moving on to the head cloth was a welcome change from the valances, although it did present additional challenges. We realized that we had not determined a specific length for the linen when we originally transferred the design, for at that time, the bedstead had been incomplete.
Before proceeding any further, we used color photocopies and a cardboard mockup of the headboard to determine what placement would allow the work to hang at a correct height with respect to the entire bed. In the end, we had to add a strip of fabric to the top of the head cloth to position it appropriately. Interestingly, period head cloths were often lengthened in this way as well. I had assumed that it had something to do with period fabric width or fabric economy, but this experience made me wonder whether it is generally just a difficult task. Even though the head cloth was sizeable, we were able to work expeditiously and deliver the piece approximately three months later.
Next, we moved on the curtains. We had decided to make only two, disregarding the fact that a period bed would often have six curtains. Modern central heat no longer requires us to create small areas of warmth within our bedrooms, and in contrast, we crave air circulation in today’s sleeping quarters. Since the bed has attractive posts and was made by the owner, it made sense to embroider two curtains for the head end of the bed and leave the lovely foot posts exposed. As you can see from the photos, the curtains are similar in size to the head cloth, but feature far more embroidery work. The only area that is left unadorned is about a foot at the top that will be covered by the valances when in use. Each curtain required almost four months to embroider and nearly another week of finishing work (pressing/blocking, adding tape trim and rings).
In the eighteenth century, a set of crewel worked bed furniture often included three embroidered base valances and a counterpane--or bedspread, as well.
Plain linen bases were already in use on the bed, serving the practical purpose of minimizing dust accumulation under the bed, as well as lending visual weight to the bed’s appearance. As the pieces of embroidery were completed and installed on the bed, we agreed with our customers that neither a counterpane nor bases were needed to bring the elements together in a balance of color and pattern.
Because our clients have a pair of beloved dogs who are regular passersby to the bedroom, an embroidered counterpane seemed ill-advised, if not downright foolish. We researched the options and found several commercially manufactured, machine-quilted counterpanes in close to period colors, and our clients chose one they liked. We did decide to make embroidered base valances, though. I suggested a simple and charming period pattern of birds and flowers that was not as elaborate as the curtains, but coordinated nicely with them. Their embroidery gave additional visual weight to the lower part of the bed and helped draw together the patterns of the upper embroidered pieces.
We are all pleased with the results of our careful planning and months of stitching. The handcrafted bed and its embroidered hangings compliment one another very nicely. The effect is one of appropriate beauty in an historic home filled with a comfortable mixture of period and modern furnishings that people use everyday.
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