The Hard Labor of Soft Silk
In the process of making silk, it’s a toss-up as to who works harder – the silk worms or the silk weavers. Of course, for the worms, it’s a total commitment. They are born and raised for the sole purpose of giving their essence to the process, and then they give their lives in its cultivation. But the craftsmen and women are also deeply and physically committed to the work. The entire enterprise is another Khmer example of an art form born of creativity, infused with cultural tradition, and married to a respect for and understanding of nature.
Silk worms are one of life’s pampered creatures. At the silk farm we visited, Artisans D’Angkor, they live in elevated wooden houses, kept darkened and cool during the bright and blazing day. A 2” trench is built into the cement around the base of the stairs and stilts that hold up the house to keep the ants from entering and destroying the worms. For the first half of their lives, the silk worms live on wood framed mesh flats, and dine exclusively on mulberry leaves that are grown in the field in front of the silk houses, in a feeding cycle of seven days feasting and three days fasting.
Once they are sufficiently nourished they stop eating, and begin the process of cocooning. For this, their living quarters are changed to oval shaped, shallow, woven baskets. The worms secrete the silk from their mouths in one continuous strand until they are completely swaddled, resembling yellow cotton Q-tips.
The cocoons must be harvested before the worms emerge on their own. If they’re left alone, they will bite through the cocoon to get out. This destroys the silk, rendering it unusable as thread. So the cocoons are placed in boiling water (this is the commitment part for the worms)where some patient soul, usually a woman, unwinds the single strand. She can do several cocoons at once, spinning the strands together into a larger thread. It takes about 120 strands to make raw silk thread, and 80 to make the finished silk thread.
Tired yet? That’s only half the process.
In one large room, the thread is dyed with natural substances – barks, herbs, flowers, and rusty nails. Another room houses looms of various sizes, where more patient souls, this time men and women, some equipped with i-Pods, weave the traditional cloths. Some patterns take 6 or 7 different colors of thread woven together at the same time. Some looms are for tie dying with plastic thread. Some traditional fabrics take a month or more to create about 6 meters of cloth.
I can’t seem to get enough of the colors and textures. The markets keep calling me back for just one more piece of cloth. They are truly luscious, rich and evocative of the complexity and the heat of the country. Just what I will need to warm me, body and spirit, some chilly NY day.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
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