Powys - Lace and Lace Making

The beauty of lace is an intangible thing. The laces have a strange quality, hard to catch and hold. But once this quality is perceived and understood it enlarges and enriches the mind and life of the one who has come to love them.

The laces emanate something of the maker whose fingers created them, their thoughts floating around them, impregnating them with deep meaning. This may explain the influence of the lace in a house where it has come to live, making everything richer, more lovable, gentler and more urbane. At the same time the lace brings with it a homely simplicity, something of the natural simple way of life of the women by whose hands it was made.

Laces have their own different characters, some grand with beautiful lines, some soft and endearing, but they all make good friends and companions to the ones who love them. They are not alive and devoted, but they have a kind of life and sympathetic understanding. They are silent friends, faithful to death and beyond, passing on to the far future, carrying with them something of our character, grateful for the loving care which has enabled them to outlive their human companion by many, many years.

The life of a lace, even the finest Mechlin lace, has often a longer span than that of buildings of stone or steel. In ancient tombs lace is found still intact, faithfully standing by the one they served and helped to adorn in life.

The love of lace is a rare thing; like genius it strikes out of the unknown on certain beings, chosen ones, irrespective of sex, country or class. Genius brings with it responsibility, struggle, stress and sometimes despair, but the love of lace brings with it healing, tranquillity and serenity. Yet this peculiar passion has also the power of intensifying the interest of life, demanding perfection and still greater beauty and greater understanding of the beloved art. In search of these things the devoted one may travel far and see many grand and beautiful countries and many distinguished and historical personages. Should the cost of these journeys be too great, the study of lace will carry the student vicariously away to these lovely places through books and pictures.

The love of flowers, on the other hand, is universal. From the simplest to the most sophisticated the flower is a sacred thing. But the weather is often cold, no flowers blooming. In the glittering city one single flower, a little faded, will cost a dollar, many flowers a weeks living. Whereas in lace, there are all the flowers, flowers which do not fade, roses, carnations, lilies, forget-me-nots, foxgloves, lilacs, and iris, wild flowers from the hedges, buttercups and daisies from the field. Lace flowers do not fade: they do not need weeding, and support, dividing and watching and good, rich manure in the autumn.

There is a purity about the white flowers of lace, those soft creamy flowers, which makes the gay colored flowers of embroidery and textiles seem almost loud and garish and too imitative of the real. The whiteness of lace has a special beauty, like shadows of branches on snow or great white birds moving in deep foliage.

In lace it is essential to think of the pure beauty of line; color has no part in this thing. It is nearer allied to sculpture than painting. Embroidery can get away with second rate drawing, falling back on color to hide and cover any careless work. Many rugs are admired more for their quaint character: an amusing figure, a house with a familiar maple tree, scenes that have more sentiment than beauty. The designer of lace must work on sculptural or architectural lines, building up the pattern from the center boldly, strong and original, but always with an exquisite grace and delicacy.

The maker of lace has to be capable of such fineness of detail that it seems sometimes as though it were the work of insects rather than that of human hands. The anonymous craftsman perhaps an old woman sitting in the sun at her door while her man is away fishing can work out secret jeweled patterns in tiny spaces, but the designer, the one who assembles the sprays and segments of lace, has to have in mind always the beautiful lines of the finished lace and the purpose for which that lace is made.

Altar laces should be dramatic, raised in high relief, drawn in strong and powerful lines, effective at a great distance, dignified, in repose. Table laces to be laid flat can have a more pictorial effect in the manner of old Persian carpets or tiles. Personal laces should have a different character. These laces should be thought of more as a textile, falling in the right way, in noble folds, soft to the touch, yielding or firm according to the way in which it is to be worn.

For the deep appreciation and love of lace it is not necessary to know how it is made, where it is made or when it was made. But an intimate understanding of this unique art will accentuate that appreciation and may make it possible to find creative expression in lace.