Weaving a Basket, Building a Community
One of my new year’s resolution for 2020 is to learn more skills: skills with my hands, making things and learning from others. In a day when you can find almost anything on Youtube or order quickly on Amazon, I fear the loss of these skills and shared learning. I mourn the loss of the communities that are rooted in this type of exchange - one where skills are shared freely and competition doesn’t exist. Communities like those of people gathered around a quilt to finish the stitches together, not motivated by a paycheck or an exchange other than one of stories, friendship and love. Where the sharing of skills is done with the desire to preserve the traditions from generation to generation - not because you have to, but because you want to. Luckily, if you look for it, there are people who are still drawn to teach and share their skills and I imagine I’m not the only one who is eager to learn.
This past Saturday, I had the pleasure of learning about basket weaving. The class was being taught at our local botanical gardens. Tucked in a back classroom, myself and 9 classmates gathered to learn the art of basket weaving from Jeannie, our instructor, and Roxy, her assistant. Together, they’ve been making baskets for over a decade and have been teaching for almost as long. When I asked Roxy what drew her to basket weaving in the first place, she talked of the satisfaction of gathering with friends and making something with her hands, “instant gratification” as they’d finish a basket in a matter of hours. Compared to the instant gratification of just about everything these days, I’d say this is relative, but I know exactly what she meant. It is so gratifying to make something with your hands, in this case a basket, that is usable right away!
Building a strong base with wood & reed
The class was comprised of a variety of learners - some experienced basket weavers and some, like myself, new to the skill. I sat next to a woman who quickly became a new friend. We spent the four hours of our class talking about our gardens and natural dye projects, all while weaving a set of simple reeds into a basket fit to hold fruit. We shared so much in common, including friends, and yet it was the shared desire to learn new skills that brought us together.
The process of basket weaving is simple. Over, under, over, under: wrapping “weavers” over and under the spokes of the basket. Each pass adds structure and shape, style and color. We wove with prepared materials, but I couldn’t help but imagine of all the materials that grow around our home that would make a perfect spoke or a perfect weaver. I imagined the possibilities that I have never noticed before.
I’ve never had to notice, because we live in a world where the things we “need” are constantly available. Baskets are abundant in nearly every store, in any color, shape or size. They’re cheap and trendy. But what is the true cost? I imagine a time when people made baskets out of necessity. Where they spent time observing the natural materials growing around them. Where they attuned themselves to the materials in an effort to select only what was needed and the best for the end function. I imagine people gathered together, weaving over and under, over and under. Older hands guiding young hands, sharing skills and traditions. Making baskets worth saving, woven with stories and love. Baskets that aren’t discarded quickly for the next trend.
Adding variety and color, shape and style with naturally colored reeds
Basket weaving has a long and very rich history - with unique traditions and materials used by different communities of peoples throughout the world and throughout time. Neither am I an expert nor a historian, so I will leave you to your own research to discover the history of basket weaving. Check out a few books at the library! This is where I started learning and I couldn’t believe the amount of variations in styles, materials, uses and traditions that existed in basket weaving, especially when the craft hasn’t been part of my upbringing. It is part of what further drew me to the craft and inspires me to keep learning, from different teachers and communities. What I can tell you is that the basket I made was constructed of reeds, and is known as a “wicker” or “splint” basket. It has been a style of basketry in many countries and cultures throughout history.
What will it take to return to the times of making together and sharing skills? Perhaps it’s not as romantic as I imagine, but certainly there are aspects that are worth preserving. As I navigate the future of our business, I have such a strong desire to weave in aspects of learning and teaching - through workshops hosted here on our farmstead, by stocking goods made by artisans who are dedicated to preserving traditional skills, and by learning new skills myself to deepen the appreciation I have for those goods that are made with care.
When I brought my finished basket home, I felt a deep satisfaction that resonated through my body. The basket I made will likely stay in our family for many years to come. As I feel the texture of each reed, I already feel a rush of nostalgia as I remember the process of making it, with a sense of gratitude to the materials used to make it and the teachers who showed me the way. Sure, I probably could have watched a tutorial online, but then I wouldn’t have met my classmates or our teachers. I wouldn’t have had the company of others as I learned this new skill and I’m not sure the basket I made would have had as much of a story to tell.
I hope to make many more baskets and will likely do so in a variety of settings. I thank the many makers who have come before me and shared their skills, so that I may now learn the craft. I am so grateful for the physical space I had to learn a new skill in the company of others. And I look forward to many years of learning new skills from and with others, weaving together a new community each day through the exchanges of teaching and learning from one another. In my own personal exploration of this (and other) crafts, I set my intentions to honor those who’ve come before me, the materials that are harvested and used, and those who have yet to come - may my learning and curiosity be received as a thank you for the many gifts you have given!
