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The wash-away frame

Posted on 02/10/201404/10/2014 by Andrea Eimke

In search for rusty bits and pieces that will help me dye fabrics, I wander into the bow of the Edna. She welcomes and rewards me instantly. I find this amazing frame with protruding screws on both sides that promise me regular rusty dots – my inner eye can just see them…

I drag the frame to the front where I have placed the collections of “fabrics of the day” and some lengths of builders line. There is better light here and some coral boulders that serve me as work tables and chairs. Soon the frame is safely wrapped with salt-water-soaked cotton fabric and bound tightly.

The sea has been calm. I decide to place the frame in front of Edna’s bow, high up on the beach in the sand in order to let the frame’s weight add some extra pressure to the fabric for better marking.

When I return the next day, I am shocked. According to my time calculations it should be low tide and the sea calm. Instead high waves are still breaking on the bottom of Ava Tapu beach and – my precious frame has disappeared! Disappointed I scan the beach area.

Eventually I find a small cloth surface that protrudes through the pieces of coral and sand, buried between two heavy boulders right by the edge of the sea some ten meters or so away from where I had placed the wrapped frame. With a stick I try to dig it out but to no avail. I mark the area with my digging stick, just in case. I will have to return with a shovel. Normally I power-walk down to the beach which I will certainly not do with a shovel on my shoulder…!

Kareen, a new friend, arrives to stay with us for a week. I have seen on her blog that she is an excellent photographer. Kareen offers to help me with the digging so we take the car down to the beach.

When I look for my mark it has – of course – disappeared. After some searching I glimpse a rusty fabric patch under a different boulder and the digging can begin in serious. Sand and water have sucked and pushed the wrapped frame deep under.

The two of us take turns in digging, scraping, pulling and photographing until we are finally rewarded with some movement. The frame’s sides have come unwrapped. Both have broken shorter.

The fabric has acquired beautiful patterns of all shades from black to orange. The material seems intact with the exception of a few holes. Like sand-washed jeans, I think. If ever I want to ‘age’ fabric artificially, now I know what to do: bury it in the sand at Ava Tapu beach.

After some more digging we can grab at the fabric and pull, pull hard and – yay! Finally the sand releases the frame and its wrapping cloth.

I can’t wait to untie the knots to release the fabric. What a delight of colours!

It is just the right light this late afternoon.

The sand needs washing out.

The sun paints patterns on the floating fabric.

It is low tide, the sea and the sky are of a deep blue. Orange growth on the reef echoes the colours of Edna’s new cloth.

Relaxing from the hard work we are happy about the result

All we want now is an orange sunset.

Tapa and Rust (3)

Posted on 24/09/201404/10/2014 by Andrea Eimke

A rainy day in between prevents me from returning after 24 hours and gives my experiment some more time to show results.

Wow! I have not expected such amazing confirmation of my theory that the reaction of tannin with the iron oxide, which is possibly contained in Banyan barkcloth, will produce black discolouration.

Not only am I rewarded with deep black rust stains, even a pattern has formed where the strings have pressed the bark firmly against Edna’s magic rusty rod. This now makes me wonder what would happen, if I wound a freshly beaten strip around the magic rod? I still have some unbeaten bark in the freezer which I will use for that next experiment. How exciting! Watch this space…

Tapa and Rust (2)

Posted on 22/09/201404/10/2014 by Andrea Eimke

The plain white tapa strip, which has been through previous water baths and perhaps even a bleach treatment, has shown me only orange rust stains. However, the two pre-dyed tapa strips reward me with a remarkable result when I return the next day.
My theory was correct: the pre-dyed pieces of tapa show black stains after the chemical reaction between the tannin-rich plant dye and the iron oxide. I can’t figure out how the brass-coloured stains come about, but it’s the black I’m after at this stage. It makes me wonder what would happen, if I tied a piece of Banyan (Ficus prolixa, on Atiu called ava) around my magic rusty rod.

Beaten Banyan bark naturally turns a rich orange brown. Two fermented pieces have been joined together by beating. Perhaps this kind of tapa still contains enough tannin to react with the iron oxide?

Together with two square pieces of lace-like Paper Mulberry barkcloth, I have brought a sample from last year’s tapa making workshop at Enuamanu School. Now I have two questions: Will the joined seam stick together after soaking the bark in sea water? And will the contact with rust produce black stains? I will find out next time I visit the Edna at Ava Tapu Beach…

Tapa and Rust (1)

Posted on 14/09/201404/10/2014 by Andrea Eimke

Now that I have a better idea which parts of the Edna will help me harvest successful rust prints, I feel brave enough to experiment with some samples of tapa (barkcloth). They are left-overs from previous projects. White cloth from Paper Mulberry bark (Broussonetia papyrifera, locally called aute) is precious for me, because it has been extinct on Atiu and I have only just recently planted three seedlings which I got from Rarotonga. They are not yet tall enough to use. My sample pieces have been produced in Samoa and Tonga.

One is a leftover from my Third Space installation. Parts of it are filled with machine-sewn lace.

A long white strip seems ideal to wind around my rusty rod.
When I return the next day, I’m rewarded with lovely orange stains.
Even the Polyester thread in the lace has taken on colour.

The first two tapa strips seen in the image on top were used in a previous eco-dye experiment. They clearly show the resist marks and brown dye. I’ve been wondering what will happen to those pre-dyed strips which have not been rinsed after dyeing. Will they still contain the dye’s magic? Will the tannin in the eucalyptus dye react with the rust? My guess is that this should produce black stains. After I have taken off my nicely rusted white tapa strip, I apply the two dyed pieces to my rusty rod. Now I will have to be patient for a day or so…

Rust

Posted on 10/09/201404/10/2014 by Andrea Eimke

By now I have discovered which rusty parts of the Edna give me no prints, some prints and really good prints. Rust results from exposure of iron or steel to oxygen (air) and moisture (water). The process can be intensified through contaminants such as salt. I found information on the Internet about the different kinds of rust. There are four easily distinguishable categories:

Red rust or hydrated oxide (Fe2O3•H2O) which results from constant exposure of iron to air, water and, in this case, salt.
Yellow rust or iron oxide-hydroxide (FeO(OH)H2O) which can be found in areas that are constantly exposed to high moisture, like standing water.
Brown rust or oxide (Fe2O3) which is a drier form of rust and most likely atmospheric, i.e. a reaction to humid air and contaminants such as salt.
Black rust or iron (II) oxide (Fe3O4) which forms in a low-oxygen environment like under water.
For a good result of my dye experiments, the overall firm contact of cloth and oxidised metal is important. I learned by experiment that this excludes a large amount of rusty remains which cannot be properly wrapped either for their size or place, as e.g. on the bow of the vessel where attachment is a challenge if not impossible.

A little bay at the end of Ava Tapu beach where bits and pieces are stuck between blocks of coral has become my prefered ‘harvesting’ ground. My dogs enjoy our excursions there, because they like playing with the crabs that hide between the boulders.
This rusty rod is my absolute favourite rust supplier. It leaves wonderful traces on my pieces of cloth.

Dyes and Don’ts

Posted on 08/09/201408/09/2014 by Andrea Eimke

The reef clings to some major parts of the Edna. With the rising and falling of the tides, the water covers and uncovers them. Sometimes it is just a caress, other times a rather passionate bashing. If I wrap my fabrics around those, will the dye result be different, better even than that from the beached parts?

At the far end of the beach’s reef there is what looks like part of a skeleton, an iron spine with ribs protruding on either side. Contained in it is a long chain. I assume it’s the anchor chain. No longer able to hold on to the support of the deep-sea bed, its links broke when wind and water pushed the Edna onto the reef. The chain has mostly lost its flexibility and is rusted solid and attached to the rib-like cage. Two narrow pieces of cotton fabric may soak up some of the wet rust that colours the remnants in all shades of yellow, orange, brown, charcoal and black.

Closer to the Edna’s bow lies a winch. I am dreaming of the cog’s imprints, lines and lines of rust on my fabric… When I return the next day, the sea is rough – there were earthquakes in Chile and Hawaii – and my wrapping cloth seems gone. But Moana Nui a Kiva, the Big Blue Ocean, has just been mocking me. When the waters calm, I find my fabric submerged in between seaweeds and still attached by its safety chord. Hopeful I re-attach it again.

While the rib cage – as I have dubbed it – has given my cloths a beautiful golden-yellow coat with some rusty marks (see above), my dreams of regular rusty lines from the cog have not come true. Just a few red stains show up and some black smear which reveals why the winch is black and its rust doesn’t dye: decades of keeping it greased. I should have thought of that from the start! I must go and find out more about rust…

I enjoy this dialogue with the sea, the Edna and her resting place, these lessons which I learn from observation and inference. They make me feel humble and open to new experiences. They give me answers and create new questions.

First experiments

Posted on 05/09/201408/09/2014 by Andrea Eimke

Exploring materiality.

Well-washed recycled cotton fabric, soaked in sea water, is my first experimental material.
I wrap pieces around rusty areas on Edna’s bow. To include a connection between place, Ava Tapu, and material, I add some plant material growing here, such as Casuarina needles and the nicely-shaped leaves of a weed that looks similar to dandelions. These are wrapped up in the wet fabric and the ‘sausage’ wound around the rusty metal.

When I return the next day to check, nothing much has happened. Ironically, the best rust stain (left) has appeared on the banner (above) that I have attached to alert possible viewers to the purpose of these wrappings. I pour sea water over the wrapped areas and cover them with cling film to keep the moisture in while the sunshine heats the wrapping. These are left for a couple of days. Once I can see the first rust stains, I unwind the fabrics and take the bundles home with the plant material still inside.

Atiu women use Ava Tapu beach to prepare kiriau, Lemon Hibiscus (Au – Hibiscus tiliacea) bark fibres for their dancing skirts. Long stems of young Au trees are shaved; the wooden cores with the inner bark still attached are then bundled and submerged in the sea. Heavy coral rocks serve as a weight to keep them there for a week so that the fibres can ret. Retting is a microbial process that aids in separating the bast fibers from the wooden core by breaking the chemical bonds that hold the stem together. If the sea has not stolen the bundles, the loosened bark is bleached a beautiful white. Women take the fibres home and usually leave the sticks on the beach. They have been useful for many of my projects…

At home, pre-soaked Eucalyptus bark has given me a reddish brown dye. Together with some rust flakes collected from Edna and a dash of vinegar that I add to the dye pot, I hope it will result in a black ink.

I wind the rust-treated fabric-leaf bundle around a lemon hibiscus stick and simmer it in that concoction for an hour. As expected, the bundle has turned black (or charcoal rather…) due to chemical reaction of tannic acid in the Eucalyptus dye with the iron oxide.

I know that opening the bundle the next day is early, as the plants have not had much chance to deposit their colour magic on to the fabrics. But with this first bundle I can’t wait. The result is promising. The casuarina needles have printed visible traces, the dandelion has left a resist print.

Now I know what I will and won’t use again.

Spirit…

Posted on 02/09/201408/09/2014 by Andrea Eimke

…absolute freedom

When I learned of the Oceanic Performance Biennial and the organizers’ call for participation, the idea appealed to me. The event will be held on Rarotonga from July 23rd to August 1st, 2015 under the title of “Sea Change” and is organized under the auspices of Emergent Ecologies, Performance Studies inernational and AUT Art & Design. Just in time before the deadline, I handed in my proposal for a performance installation. Now I have to be patient and hope for acceptance.

Whether it will be accepted or not, I will go ahead with the project anyway, because it also fits in nicely within the scope my current research. In my mind I immediately saw the Edna and wanted to make a “Spirit Sail” for her. Spirit, here not to be thought of as spiritualism, but rather as absolute freedom. Absolute (from Latin absolutus = detached, freed, unrestricted), detached from material restrictions and free to wander on, rest-less, leaving her rusty remains behind, and fluid, iron and copper dissolving in rain and seawater into rust and verdigris. In a processual work I aim to touch this restlessness in its chemical and inorganic compossibility, using the fragile remains of the Edna as support for ‘printing’ onto cloth.

The material form of the rusting iron hull binds to the cloth, producing some memento mori, some ‘still-life’. Memory of touch will be re-membered, enhanced, and added-to in a sequence of technical processes such as wrapping, binding, dyeing, printing, sewing, exposure to elements, layering, composition and decomposition. It is my aim to take these “Spirit Sails” on a voyage between islands, installing and altering them in different oceanic locations until they reach Rarotonga.

This will become a visual diary of the project’s practical process and development.

A price…

Posted on 01/09/201408/09/2014 by Andrea Eimke

…not bargained for.

It was prize-giving day for the students at Atiu College that day. M/S Edna had arrived, but the sea was too rough to offload her cargo that fateful November 28th 1990. Atiu’s barge driver, the late Papa Roi Viti, had suggested that the vessel continue on to neighbouring Mitiaro and come back the following day. However Edna’s Captain, the late Nancy Griffith, decided to leave the schooner anchored offshore with emergency staff and follow the college principal’s invitation to celebrate the student’s achievements that evening and wait for calmer seas in the morning.

That proved to be a fatal desicion. At 1:30 AM the wind turned and the schooner, full of cargo and with all crew back on board, was slammed onto the reef. Rarotonga’s harbourmaster, the late Captain Don Silk, remarked in an interview with Lawrance Bailey from Cook Islands News that “it wouldn’t have taken much wind to put the ship on the reef as the anchoreage at Atiu was very close to shore. In Atiu when the wind is off-shore, with any change of wind a ship was in danger” (CINews, 29-22-1990). Most of the unisured cargo was lost. For the captain, also one of the ship’s owners, who wasn’t even able to salvage much of her own belongings, this was a hard price to pay.

For Edna, it was the end of her seventy-four-year sailing career. The ship broke apart, one half sank into the depth of the ocean. The other remains now lie scattered and exposed to the fierce elements in between the large boulders of fossilized coral that litter the beach. Hurricane-force winds and high seas wedged her broken bow up into the passage to Ava Tapu. To me it appears as if the island wanted to ‘ingest’ her; a macabre thought.

Re-membering…

Posted on 01/09/201408/09/2014 by Andrea Eimke

Memorial stone and plaque, Marae Orongo i Tai - Atiu

…ancient rituals
In November of 2008, Abercrombie & Kent and the passengers of the Clipper Odyssey sponsored an archaeological project, implemented with the help of the Atiu people and under the direction of Dr. Hiro Kurashina and Dr. Rebecca Stevenson, to re-establish and clear the location of the sacred welcoming site of Marae Orongo i Tai. I was contracted to record the project progress to make a video documentary. Sadly, today, two of my interviewees have already passed on. The knowledgable elders told us about Ava Tapu, the Sacred Harbour, and the function of the adjacent sea-side marae.

In pre-European times, when a foreign canoe approached, it was never known whether the seafarers came as friends or as foes. On the inland marae in the district of Mokoero across from the chief’s court, the priest consulted the gods.

If it could be assumed that they came as invaders, a huge stalactite , now sleeping in the weeds at Marae Orongo, was erected as symbol for the war god Tutavake.

The god’s head – today located on top of the marae’s platform – placed on top of it. Fierce battles ensued in which the brave Atiu warriors remained victorious. Papa Sam Koronui told us that, presumably, cannibalistic rituals then took place at Marae Orongo i Tai. However if the voyagers were relatives or came as friends, a feast was prepared for their welcome.

As the fate of M/S Edna shows, access to the island at Ava Tapu landing is tricky because of treacherous currents. Once the voyagers made it safely across the coral reef, they would have to ascent to the island through a narrow passage (left) framed by razor sharp fossilized coral. The late Papa Ina Teiotu told us that the seafarers were ‘fumigated’, i.e. they had to walk through smoke (scented with sandalwood??). Women decorated them with sweet smelling flower ei, crowns and necklaces, before sharing food and refreshing coconut water at the welcoming site to celebrate their successful journey and safe arrival.