The young ladies, using colorful pieces of leftover silk fabrics, would cut, sew, and stuff them to make sachets in the shapes of butterflies, bats, or auspicious signs, among others. After elaborate embroidery work, the sachets would be surmounted with complicated knotwork and tassels to become tasseled curtain ornaments, canopy decorations, and an endless number of other decor aids for their future homes.
But, that was the olden days, Today's women are attending schools, entering the professions, and, otherwise working outside the home while they raise their own nuclear families. They no longer have the time or leisure for such crafts. Clearly, such Chinese ornamental handwork faces prospects for extinction.
The Lan-yi Society, an organization of both career women and housewives, seeing this, was determined to keep such traditional feminine folk arts alive and, accordingly, set forth to study them seriously. Although most of the Society's members have left their maiden years far behind and are busy with jobs and homes, they get together regularly to work with the traditional Chinese arts. Recently, their macrame work was publicly shown at an exhibition organized by their instructor, Mrs. Lydia Hsia-sheng Chen.
Lydia Chen, actually, did not learn macrame from her mother either. A chemist by training, she paid little attention to the craft until she found herself truly settled down in her late 20s with a teaching job and a family of her own. Then, one day, she read a comprehensive article about Chinese macrame and decided it was "reasonably interesting and not hard to learn." Following do-it-yourself instructions, she thus began her intensive preoccupation with knotwork skills. What Lydia had originally meant to learn-just so she could make a decorative cord for her two-year-old son's whistle and small but original gifts for friends—soon became an absorbing hobby.
Lydia pursued the craft, learning from an aged custodian at the National Palace Museum. And soon enough she found that there were few teaching materials to which serious students could refer. Since Chinese knotwork was never deemed a serious art, its techniques were never recorded. And, because of the perishability of the corded creations over great periods of time, there are few samples available.
So, Lydia pursues her own probe of the now misty world of Chinese knotwork. On one hand, she painstakingly skims through all old poems, novels, and other old records for references to knotwork. She found, for instance, that Li Po, the famous Tang Dynasty poet was familiar with the tungshin knot, a basic knot still popular today. On the other hand, she unties and reties every macrame antique that she can put her fingers on. After sorting out 13 basic knots, Lydia has identified them all with specific names from historical references.
Everything she learned then about Chinese knots, with step-by-step instructions, was published by Echo Publications in a volume called, simply, Chinese Macrame. It is thought to have been the first book to systematically introduce Chinese knotwork as an art form. Still, Lydia indicated that there was more to come: "There is a lot in the past we do not know of yet. This is only the beginning of lengthy research work."
To Lydia, the delight in Chinese knotwork lies not only in rediscovering its past, but in mastering the craft, making creative designs, and putting her finished work to use.
Her pleasure is now shared by the members of the Lan-yi Society. In their recent exhibition, at the Taipei Historical Museum, most members showed off works inspired by contemporary needs. Mrs. Sun Yu Hwi-hsuan, wife of Premier Sun Yun-suan, crafted a gorgeous gold and navy-blue, double-tone waistband. Mrs. Yu Toong Metsung, wife of Governor Yu Kuo-hwa of the Central Bank of China, created an elegant macrame pattern to be affixed to a treasured decades-old purse which she had bought in Shanghai, and which will be made chic all over again.
Mrs. Yu, rotating chairman of Lan-yi this year, discussed her motives for engaging in knotwork: "I wanted to learn something that was uniquely Chinese. I was too often confronted by foreign dignitaries' wives who would question me on the Chinese folk arts, which I knew nothing about." She became especially concerned when she became aware that art forms such as flower arranging and bonsai, which had originated in China, were blooming in Japan and Korea, but had all but disappeared in their motherland.
Through Lydia Chen's persistent efforts, Chinese ornamental knotwork has not only been revived in Taiwan, but also has been elevated in status from a merely decorative to a creative art.
She has researched old literature to find lost techniques
According to Lydia, Chinese knotwork is not hard at all, "as long as one has patience and keeps track of which end is which." However, it takes a lot of practice to master the art. "Unlike Western macrame, whose success depends on design solely since there is little variation to the knots, Chinese macrame is a combination of 13 basic knots which are all difficult in themselves."
Every basic knot has both a name and a special meaning. A shou knot resembles the Chinese character shou, for long life. A shuang shi knot resembles two Chinese shi (happiness) characters -for double happiness. And, a pan chang knot runs the cord in endless loops to symbolize immortality.
Basically there are three steps in macrame: to tie, to tighten, and to finish. After a design is decided, the cords are layed out in proper patterns according to the design diagram. At this stage, one needs only to be sure that the proper relationship between cord sections is maintained.
The second step is the most critical as well as the most difficult-tightening the knot to fit the shape. At this stage, the "body," or the tight part, and the "ear", the loose loop part, are distinguished. The existence of the "ear" is unique in Chinese macrame. "As in painting, where different people may paint different images of the same object, people may get different results from the same knolling pattern. This is mainly because of a different 'pull' at this stage," Lydia explained.
After the cord is pulled to the desired position, a few stitches at the base of a knot may be needed to keep it from stretching out of shape.
While one can use cords of all kinds of materials, from silk to leather, and all colors, experts advise starting with heavy silk for easy tracing. After 10 to 20 hours of practice on basic knots, a beginner can design and make accessories for such items as dresses, jeans, bicycle handles, and eyeglass cases.
For those who have mastered the basics, ornamental knots can be a medium for greater artistic expression. The basic knots are decorative in themselves, but when combined, can create visual results of utter tranquility and sublimity, as shown in Lydia Chen's exhibition wall hangings ... or joy and vividity, as shown in patterns on dresses by Lydia and her students.
For one wall hanging, Lydia took up a delicate design often seen on Chinese bronzes and reproduced it in knots. The bold cord lines out in a symmetrical, more-or-less pyramidal fashion, a modern art re-creation heavily reminiscent of the past.
Macrame themes are often taken from real life or mythical objects, and butterflies, bats, carp, the phoenix and other auspicious animal forms emerge in the patterns of the most delicate pieces.
Last year, Lydia co-authored with Ms. Pan Dai-li, a fashion designer, a sequel work, Chinese Macrame II. Pan Dai-li recalled, "I was a little dubious when we first started out. Lydia asked me to design Western style clothes, and she would match them with macrame designs. But the result was absolutely stunning."
On one half-coat, Lydia crafted a phoenix in a high spirited pose at the shoulder. Gull-winged, the bird spreads its tail at the hem, leaving the impression that the wearer may engage in night at any moment.
Not every effort is successful for Lydia. For instance, she often attempts a macrame dragon, a traditional symbol for Chinese, "but it turns out every time to resemble a snake more than a dragon." Still, she will try again.
Shuo Wen Chieh Tzu, a Chinese dictionary compiled around 100 A.D., defines the word "knot" as "the joining of two cords." little did the people of that time imagine that their descendents, using only one cord, great patience, active hands, and imagination, would create a delicate world of aesthetic delight. The ancient art of decorative knots is not only making a comeback in China, but going on to new splendors.