In late May of 2025 I visited McFarland Park and captured this view of the adjacent vineyard in bloom: and not only the vines, but the wild daisies growing so beautifully between the symmetry. The distant typography reveals the wonderful perspective of rows tapering to their vanishing points – at least two. A stand of trees in the distance balanced against the “long-armed” birch in front provides the scene with a lovely balance and focal points – thanks to my customers who pointed this out. So, here we go!

Prep. Work: There are many phases to a large 76 x 32 inch work, all adding up to at least 4 – 6 weeks of work. At first there is the “mapping” which determines technical aspects, including the complicated perspective of the scene. The second row in from the left will provide not only a horizon point, but also another where the midground is divided into two planes: fore and aft we could call them, where the ground rises up – who would have known that Niagara on the Lake had much in the way of visual typography! Here are 3 images showing my earlier work at the Jordan Art Gallery which inspired this larger version. The “cartoon” as artists often call the layout/mock up, allows for working out the linear perspective and other main details. I don’t typically go through this process with smaller works as all of that can be readily worked out with the compositional ground of wool fibres (you can see that on most of my former blogs). Technically, I have divided the composition, vertically, into thirds, and horizontally into quarters and thirds. The image itself was very conducive to these divisions.

Before starting with any fibres, I also made up a second version of the layout with parchment/tracing paper. I will use this version as a guideline to lay out my wool fibre ground.

Once approved, I began the actual work. First the measuring and cutting of the quilt batting, foundation support – cut larger than the 76 x 32 inches that the finished work will be. Under this layer I will use a layer of tulle fabric which I discovered only recently acted as a perfect stabilizer and prevented the felting from imbedding itself into my sponge/foam work surface. I had a bolt of this fabric left over from a wedding and have used it for many other purposes as well.

Starting in with the first compositional layer: In a scene that has many layers from closest foreground to distant background, the needle felting process requires you to lay in the most distant grounds first, otherwise the fibres will tend to interfere with the foreground structure. In a work with a sky feature, that is generally where I begin.

Laying in the foundation: With a background in hand-spinning, I have used many of the skills learned in that field. One of them is “carding” which is the process of brushing the fibres so that they easily separate and can be controlled into whatever thickness and “spread” that I wish them to be. My fibres are bought as factory dyed “rovings”, a product whereby the dyed fibres are also factory carded and attenuated into fist-sized “ropes”, as you can see below. Hand spinners can easily use rovings straight from the package.

First layer of detailing: There are many, many what I like to call “lay lines” in work like this one: rows of vines which are supported by fences made from round wooden posts and many angel-iron posts between. These support rows of wires on which the grape-vines have grown and now bear their May blooms. Behind and in front of each row are the daisies which I will have to graduate from foreground to background using slightly different mixes of silk and wool to show “atmospheric” perspective. The tracing paper has enabled a way to establish these lines, some of which might stay, and others that I might replace.

The posts have been made from my own wet-felted material and cut to their length and diameter. For now they are pinned and lightly needled in place, but later will be hand-stitched and rounded into shape. The last job that I did on this day was to go over the sky once again with a light-colour mix of viscose (bamboo fibre) to give the sky its own perspective (light in the distant horizon and more saturated colour above).

September 6: Uncovering more information.

It always amazes me that the more you work and observe any particular image, the more you begin to see details that weren’t evident previously. I like to tackle one area at a time. Today my first job was to begin working on the fences to the right of the work. The fenceposts need more rounding off and the tops have to look “flat.”

There are many layers of grapevine fences here, in fact they will all lead to the horizon and looking closely, there are four distinguishable rows. I will need to pull out the fibres of distant rows to the centre right to match up with the four main rows that start at the right foreground. I started mixing silk noils into the longer fibres and needle felting them into the background rows to represent the thousands of daisies. I will have to come up with a larger foreground alternative.

Between the rather tedious work of placing background rows, I worked on the stand of trees in the distance: defining the shadows beneath the canopy and adding light to their tops. There is still work needed to be done on the sky. I want to add a little more blue to the horizon and eventually add in some very subtle wispy clouds.

September 9: Fun with handspun grapevines.

I am now running low on previously handspun singles that I like to use for vines (single ply tends to curl up against itself, whereas a 2-ply used for knitting is stabilized). I would now have to spend some time creating more yarn.

Over the weekend: I have reached a point where refining and detailing have become the focus of the work. The rows of earth in front of each vine row need daisies added and at the same time shadows beneath them. There’s still refinement with shading needed to create more perspective to the entranceway.

I had a little fun with the larger daisies and decided to try cutting up a white 2-ply silk and wool mix and blending that with green silk fibres. All will be anchored with tiny stitches.

Foreground: I feel that I can leave the vineyard now (although there’s still more detailing to be done) and focus on the foreground. This is a mowed area of grass that I will lay in horizontally to create that illusion. It has lovely rich stripes of yellow green and deeper shades between. I think it will need a little blue added later to tie in with the sky and to soften the overall yellowness of this area. All has yet to be firmly felted in place. Remember, there will also be a powerful tree feature on the right side that will add a shadow across the foreground.

September 14: My goal this week was to get the felted composition completed so that I can move into the second phase of the project: hand stitching over the whole to anchor and texturize the fibres.

In the images below I am felting the foreground place. I have laid the silk fibres in horizontally to create the impression of long mowed lines. I will later add in vertical fibres to better indicate the grass blades. Between this ground and the vineyard area, is a ditch. Looking at it closely, there are long grasses growing in this, likely, wetter area. I have also been looking at the daisies, and think I might add more larger ones.

I have created a wispy, two-tone nuno felt (wool base with silk and viscose (bamboo) fibre laid on top and wet felted. Each fibre shrinks as a different rate (wool less than silk) creating a lovely rippled effect. I will use this fabric for the tops of the vines. When cut and felted into place the effect was a little too bright and needed some softening with a darker mix of colour. The hand-stitching will further texturize and soften the look.

I spent a fair bit of time pulling out the bottom row of long fibres between the grapevines and replacing that line with distant daisies. Even though it’s there in the photo, there is something that I didn’t like about the way it looked. I have also added in vertical stems and shadows to the grassy areas between the vines. There is more of this darkening and distancing needed in the background rows.

As well, the wooden poles that anchor each vine row, still need more rounding off with shadows. I will also add in chunky vines to create more depth to this vineyard area. The distant trees on the horizon still need a bit of refining with shadows and depth. I guess I’m actually at the stage where I begin to be more and more critical of the work leaving each session with an idea of what I need to do next time. But, the most exciting part is going to be placing the foreground tree in place.

Placing the feature birch tree: I had a leftover work that I was never really happy with, and decided to repurpose the felt for the tree. The day arrived when I could put my sewing scissors to work cutting the truck and main branches of the birch tree. There was a lot of white and grey in this piece, as well as sky blue, which lent itself to the new composition. Felted fibres can be pulled out fairly easily if not anchored with stitches, hence this time-consuming but important finishing step.

Birch trees have a wonderful sheen to their patterns, and I have successfully created them before. I was looking forward to this new challenge that also had a lot of shadow caused by its new spring canopy.

The birch tree is a prominent foreground feature and will have a 3-dimensional/relief form. I have begun to fill/stuff the trunk with strips of trimmed quilt batting which I save for such a purpose. I think most artists value the “waste” materials that they produce. At this time the limbs are needled in place but will be firmly secured with hand stitches.

Time now to create a nice piece of green/s nuno felt https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_iKQvhNbqO0 for the canopy (inserted link takes you to the process). Birch trees have very distinctive leaves, as well as thicker areas where they cluster together.

Tackling the canopy: No matter how many times I create a piece of felt, it’s just instinctive I think, that you want to preserve that work in itself. But, this one was created for a purpose, so here goes with the sewing scissors.

First: The wool backing was a little thick in places, especially around the edges of the felt. Trimming this excess off in little pieces produced exactly the right material for individual leaves. “Sprinkling” them on the added twiggy branches (these I finger spun) gives a more organic feel to the image. I would add larger pieces of the nuno felt (pulled apart to expose the sky and underlying branches) and whisps of it to the leafy areas, not only to lightly anchor the leaves, but to add muted background leaves. All was then felted in place with the 5-needle tool.

To extend the eye through the sky area, I added some very light wispy clouds. Cultivated white silk blended with viscose made a perfect blend that both separates as its laid in and adds a lovely soft luster to these forms. But it’s still a back and forth process with white and blue to blend the edges.

The foreground lawn was vertically texturized to very subtly give the impression of grass blades – then needled in place. The shadows added next to the lawn to tie both tree and ground together. Around the tree I used my rough silk to naturalize the unmown patch. I think I will further texturize this area with the same finger spun fibres. I also want to add a slightly lighter layer of nuno felt to the thicker areas of the canopy, bringing that area out a little and leveling it with the “dimensionalized” trunk. I have also put aside some white handspun wool that I’ll cut and use for a layer of larger daisies in the foreground vineyard area.

I think I’m pretty close to the point where I can remove the work from the working surface and attach it to a stabilizing backing. Once this is done, I can begin stitching. Refinement of the image can still continue as I work through this final phase.

This was one of the first images I captured on my recent return to New Zealand. It’s a place along the South-West coast of the North Island a little north from Wellington called Paremata which adjoins the newly developed Camborne suburb. I’m looking South-East towards Pauatahanui inlet. My walk there brought back memories of childhood when our family of 5 children travelled to Paremata on day trips by train to this inlet beach to gather clam shellfish that we called “pipis.” We worked hard digging in the tidal sands for these small white mollusks, gathering a bucketful to take home for the next day’s meal, as they had to be left in fresh water overnight to spit out sand from their shells.

At some point Mum would send me, along with perhaps my next youngest sister, to the local fish and chips shop to bring back a large bundle of steaming hot fare (of course wrapped in newspaper) that we’d spread out on a picnic blanket and dive into with our fingers. There was usually a baby in a pushchair (stroller) and this device offered a handy means to transport the heavy shellfish back home after an invigorating and tiring day in the sun.

It occurred to me that what I was revisiting impacted in such a profound way that the imagery and memories would lend themselves to a new series of needle felted artworks. This Paremata memory (here at high tide) is the image the I decided to begin with.

Using wool fibre then silk in subsequent layers I have recreated this scene captured on the walk with my sister around the Paremata harbour/inlet. The feature plant is flax which may be one of 2 indigenous species, either Phormium tenax  (harakeke). Likely this one as its a larger species than the mountainous Phormium colensoi (wharariki). As it had just flowered, I am unable to tell if its flowers were red (tenax) or yellow (colensoi). New Zealand flax (not related to the European variety) is a hardy plant which was traditionally used by the Maori people for woven mats and baskets, ropes and clothing. It was also cultivated by the European settlers for their own and commercial use. Now reintroduced in many areas, the plant attracts native birds such as the Tui – a black song bird featuring a white ball of feathers at the throat.

On my next work depicting part of this Paremata walk, I will discover more about what I am seeing in the image. I will also travel up the coast, into thicker forest and make a trip down to Christchurch in the South Island.

The second work in the series is a view returning to the start of the Paremata walk, now looking west towards Paremata. We are now on the sand dunes close to where I recall those childhood days at the beach.

Work no. 3 is still looking westwards. The expanse of tidal waters struck me with its very distinct tidal patterns. This work was a little more of a challenge although it may at first seem more simplified in its composition. The striations of the water became too dominant and the subtle perspective of the cloud formations became just as important. I took a bold move by removing the entire layer and moving is down to create a horizon that would share both water and sky equally. By doing this I disturbed the vertical striations such that it softened the look and I was able to direct the water movement horizontally as well. I felt this worked better.

Snow-laden branches have been a fascination and source of inspiration for some years. Standing under a bower or cathedral formation, has been a compelling inspiration in many recent works. I started work on this needle felted work after gaining permission to use Anita Payne’s photograph from early December, 2023, based on a walk that she and her group took in Perth County.

Before I started, I had been thinking about spirals and Fibonacci’s sequence (13th century Italian mathematician) which is a universal and mathematical calculation of spirals from the smallest unfurling fern frond, an unborn fetus to the universe itself – truly a wonder of nature. Here is the unfolding of Snow Bower:

The centre is the “tunnel” or eye of the spiral. The way the light filters through, inviting the hiker or “viewer” into the work, and from there, using the spiral sequence, the layout of trunks and branches begins to take shape.

I am using felt-covered ropes left over from the previous project “Into the Forest” and adding more that have been newly hand spun. All will have to be hand-stitched to the base (a white baby’s acrylic blanket found at one of my favourite charity store). Before beginning the composition I had needle felted the entire surface with a mixture of white wool and acrylic fibres.

I wanted to add the 2 photos taken on a January walk through our local Friendship Trail. When going through my album to choose studio shots of the process, I almost didn’t see these images as something else.

Below: Once the trunks and branches are in place (although more will need to be added), I am able to add snow. My first layer is made from a mixture of viscose and acrylic fibres blended together. Viscose is made from bamboo and provides a wonderful luster. Later I will add cultivated silk which has an even brighter property. In these photos I am showing not only the building of snow, but the deepening of the forest perspective background by using finer handspun yarns.

I especially love working on the foreground trying to give the viewer a feeling that the branches are reaching forward as if they are wanting to be touched. This thickening of snow can be achieved by pre-felting and cutting the white felt, which is then needle felted to the surface.

I pondered whether or not to add actual colour to the work. I loved the grey tones which reflected the greyness of the day that the photograph was taken. However, I also wanted to add a some coolness and warmth (contrasts) through the use of colour. Mixed blues and some yellow is now embedded in the highlights of the work. From a distance it’s not even noticeable but there all the same.

The process at this point involves a spiraling in itself, working between what has been laid in and what the composition demands to add more depth and “reach.” I have laid in the horizontal branch and want to pull the composition forward toward the viewer. I sort out the opinion of my fellow SAQA Niagara pod members to help at this point.

From this point on my work involves fine tuning the composition to bring the branches forward, push others further back. The forward-most tree trunk was also repositioned to be more perpendicular which seemed to work better than when diagonally angled. A week has been spent stitching all in place to not only anchor surface applications but also to enhance texture and form. A few more days has completed the stabilizing backing and then the final backing. A studio photography session completed now. The finished work is the featured at the beginning of this blog.

All-in-all, I estimate about 100 hours of work has gone into this quilt. The finished work now hangs at the Jordan Art Gallery in the village of Jordan, Ontario. If you are interested, please contact me through my website or at ghildebrandartstudio@gmail.com