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| Hat with Morning Glories and Sweet Peas by Elsa Schiaparelli ca. 1948-52 silk satin Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| Dolman Coat by Madame Drugeon, Paris ca. 1880-85 quilted silk trimmed with pared ostrich feather Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| Drapery Tie-back with Tassels by Le Mirepère et Fils ca. 1850-60 braided silk cord Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| Needlework Purse on Steel Frame ca. 1825 silk Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| Veil ca. 1820 silk gauze Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
Silk
I keep the books in a silk factory
for my employer, Herr Bernhard. The work
is not hard, but I suffer, feeling I was made
for finer things. All day
I hunch like a spider over my ledger.
I dip my pen into the well
– this pen that could be used to spar or sing –
drawing out of the black pool a line, thin
as a thread, fine as baby's hair.
This columned page for warp
and woof, it is my own death
I weave here, winding myself
in a shroud of silk. Soon I shall sleep
the sleep of the worm, without thought
or dream. Sometimes I wonder
how so many tiny deaths
are daily woven into cloth so thin,
so light, it seems almost a substance
of the spirit. Then I dip my pen
for penance in the well and plod
again across the rows of numbers
until every shred and pennysworth's
accounted for.
– Jean Nordhaus (1993)
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| Wedding Dress worn by Helena Slicher 1759 embroidered silk Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| French Shoes ca. 1725-50 silk damask Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| Hangings for Dolls' House Bed ca. 1750 silk Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| Bed Hangings ca. 1700 silk velvet, silk taffeta Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| Tapestry of Sea Battle by Josse de Vos ca. 1715-34 silk and wool Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| Tapestry fragment from The Seasons (May, June) by Everaert Leyniers ca. 1650-80 silk and wool Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| Purse with Iris Motif ca. 1675-1700 silk embroidery Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
The Painter on Silk
There was a man
Who made his living
By painting roses
Upon silk.
He sat in an upper chamber
And painted,
And the noises of the street
Meant nothing to him.
When he heard bugles, and fifes, and drums,
He thought of red, and yellow, and white roses
Bursting in the sunshine,
And smiled as he worked.
He thought only of roses,
And silk.
When he could get no more silk,
He stopped painting
And only thought
Of roses.
The day the conquerors
Entered the city
The old man
Lay dying.
He heard the bugles and drums
And wished he could paint the roses
Bursting into sound.
– Amy Lowell (1915)
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| Heraldic Tunic attributed to Johan Pietersz Smout for the funeral of Prince Frederick Hendrick of Orange-Nassau 1647 embroidered silk Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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| Head of Bearded Old Man by Jan Lievens ca. 1630-32 etching printed on silk Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
Poems from the archives of Poetry (Chicago)