BEHIND THE SCENES...

The landscape and seasons in Scotland provide the greatest colour palette for design. The hues differ from month to month, county to county. These natural colour schemes inspire the ANTA textiles. Annie mixes yarns like paint colours across the warp and weft of the fabric, giving them the vibrancy that makes her designs stand out.

In winter the bare silver birch stand dormant, with deep purple buds against the often frozen hill, the braken is burnt orange and Scots-pine provides the only green, deep and dark. Spring can be the most striking, the sun is still low but the longer days allow for bulbs, wildflowers and new leaves to burst. In summer the moors and hills transform; the heather blooms purple and vegetation is bright. Different landscapes also provide different hues. Where our highland factory is in Ross-Shire, the land is wide and open for arable farming. In summer everything is warm harvest yellow, dusty and rich. The soil is good quality when it is sown in autumn and spring, the fields are carved with dark trenches for the seed. Travelling west the hills grow from the land, casting huge shadows. The lochs seem almost black and the hills gradually transform each season.

The outer islands are light and bright places. The white sand makes the water brilliant blue and the wildflowers in the summer freckle the shores with multicoloured spots.

Cawdor is a timeless design. It is one of the classic castle carpet collections at ANTA. The dark purple and light green are tonally so similar that the eye blends them easily. It is a subtle design using natural colours that occur across Scotland but nowhere better than the surrounding woodland and gardens at Cawdor Castle. It is not a surprise that Shakespeare immortalised this Highland castle in Macbeth, the romantic hills and noble woods conjure up tales of witches and Thanes easily...

LIFE ON THE EDGE OF SCOTLAND

October 2016

I woke early. The first of the morning sun fighting through the sky.  

I had a long drive ahead of me across from east to west to Kyle of Lochalsh to cross over to Skye where I’ll get the ferry to the Outer Hebrides.  You literally climb up into the west coast. The hills rise up from Dingwall and at this time of year, the roads are clear from Summer travellers.  You can feel the remoteness increasing as you drive. Landscape getting bigger, limited visible life.  Stop for coffee in Tarvie.

You rise and fall cutting through the hills, alongside lochs and crofts. The roads get smaller, single track mostly, dodging through the ‘Passing Places’.

The Skye Bridge elegantly reaches from coast to island. The feeling of being on an island is special. Adventurous.  An hour and a half to Uig, where I’ll get the ferry to North Uist.  I stop in the Co-op in Portree for last minute supplies.  

Catch the ferry with not a minute to spare. Squeezed right on the end. The wind has picked up. Suddenly the clouds seem to close in. So quickly it becomes almost completely dark. I stay inside the ferry watching Skye and the Cuillins disappear. The ferry is full of islanders who study or get work on the mainland coming home for the weekend.

Lochmaddy.  A welcome party of parents, loved ones and the Postie greet us.  Cars off.  I head out of the village.  Rain lashes the windscreen.  No service.  I find an old map in the back of the car. Only two roads so I take the one heading north.  My cottage is on the coast on the way to Berneray.  It is a small thatched cottage with a few beds, a stove and a large pile of peat outside. Key in the shed.

The weather cleared the next day.  I travel south.

Benbecula is the stepping stone between the North and South Uist. Benbecula in Gaelic is Beinn na Faoghla which aptly means ‘Mountain of the Ford’. This is clear as I can see its solitary hill Rhubhal. The flat watery landscape seems to be more loch than rock.  

The islands are connected by causeways, and I drive over the first to reach Benbecula.

I take a right following the Hebridean Food Trail sign.  Stopped in at Maclean’s Bakery and bought a packet of potato scones and blethered with the old lady behind the counter. Carrying on that road I came to the RAF Benbecula. A military base since the second world war.  

The base operates long range radar tracking over the North Atlantic. It is also the location of the airport and the hospital.  Both of which are a lifeline for the island population as well as tourists.

I recall trips with family friends in which each year a dad over the age of 50 tore their achilles tendon chasing the children on the beach… the hospital was a great asset!

My phone buzzes. 3G!

I drive on.  

I can see empty beaches now.  White sand and turquoise water seem unnatural for Scotland.

The landscape seems almost deserted.  Shells of old cottages lie all over the land providing shelter for only cattle and sheep.  The soil is wet and boggy so the people mostly pastoral farm in small crofts and in open grazing on the hill.  There are large squared off chunks of peat, taken from huge gullies that cut deep and far into the unoccupied moors.  They lie in stacks all over the flat land.

I drive back to North Uist cutting through the middle of Benbecula.

It seems so changeable. The sun is beginning to be low in the sky. The clouds are blown in fast and leave just as quick.  Tomorrow will head north to Berneray.  I can see the Harris Hills already.

In 2016 I spent a month on North Uist to create a series of artworks, mainly paintings, recording the weather and changing seasons.  Autumn can be the most beautiful time in Scotland.  The long summer days begin to slow, the sun gets lower in the sky and weather fronts appear darkening the land.  I mainly worked in watercolour as it allowed me to work quickly and outside.  I produced a series of paintings that I exhibited in Edinburgh in December of that year.  The islands had a great effect on me and the way I worked. They are very different from the mainland, even the rural spots, and spending time there you really get to know the way of life.  I also recorded my time in a diary, the extract below is the first couple of days on the islands. My initial impression. 

Stella Stewart

I have strong memories of the Cairngorms. I think everyone who has lived in the Highlands does. You drive through them on the A9, rattle past them on the train and sometimes get the opportunity to ski down them in the winter. I will always remember the contrast of brilliant white snow and the dark water of Loch Morlich when at the top Ptarmigan cafe.  I’ll remember skiing down the heathery slopes and the veins of snow that remain all year round. 

My grandmother Donina Stewart is exactly 70 1/2 years older than me. We share a half birthday.  She was born in 1923 and grew up in Dulnain Bridge in Speyside with the Cairngorms as a backdrop. After growing up in the hills she left to train as a nurse in Inverness where she met my grandfather Alistair Stewart. Then onto Edinburgh, London and, after marrying, to Kenya.  I interviewed her to hear her memories of the hills and what has changed in her 95 years. 

You have lived in Africa with Grandpa and when there lived near two of your sisters. What would you all reminisce about while away from home? 

We would still meet for a picnic! Kenya was very like the highlands really - lovely trees all around. But we would remember as children when we were taken by buses to the bottom of the Cairngorms then climbing up from the bottom with no roads on a track as a school girl. Then coming home in the evening and having a big bonfire and bacon and eggs by Loch Morlich.  

You were never allowed to the mountains till June. It was too dangerous, it was a major event to go up the Cairngorms because there was a lot more snow back then. The snow was so bad that the funerals happened with horse and sled and they couldn’t dig the graves because the ground was frozen. It was such a different world really. There was no electricity, much the same as in Kenya.

There was nobody in the Cairngorms, it was a wild place with deer and wild cats. No houses nearby like today. 

We were the only ones with skis back in the day, Alistair was unique having a car! So to ski behind the car on Loch Morlich was very special.

Whilst at school we saved our pennies to go to the Tumutumu Mission in Kenya to support a Church of Scotland Mission. When in Kenya with Alistair we discovered that a boy, whose name was James Matoua, used to study at Tumutumu school was our help. We became great friends and when I was left alone at home James was left behind to look after me and his wife and a little boy who was the same age as Lachie would play. A small world really! 

The Highlands must have changed a great deal in your lifetime. What do you think is the biggest difference for children and young now growing up in the Highlands?

It didn’t change until much later. We had come back from Kenya and walked up the old route, we were having a picnic behind the shelter stone and suddenly the ski lift, we didn’t know it has existed, opened and the Americans arrived in big hats and handbags. We were having a tin of sardines after slogging up the hard way! Each small village in Speyside was its own community, even going to Inverness was a major event

Even to see an airplane we all ran out of our houses to see.

Stella and Donina Stewart

From our factory in the Highlands, Cornwall is at the other end of the country yet the landscape and the food are very similar. You will find traditional scones and cream, pasties and buns as well as fresh seafood from the rich waters that surround this most southerly British county, just like in Easter Ross.  This week I discovered that Cornish people traditionally resourceful, ingenious and hugely successful in sourcing, farming and preparing food and ingredients. They were blessed with rich waters and fair weather during the summer months this paired with ingenuity with ingredients makes their food of today so diverse and delectable. 

The widely acclaimed Cornish Pasty.
The pasty that is eaten today is very similar to the ones eaten hundreds of years ago. Traditionally the pasty was marked with the initial of the would be consumer, since the contents of pasties varied, and still vary today, to suit all tastes.  Often filled with either pork, rabbit, fish, eggs, vegetables such as turnips and potatoes, and even jam or fruit.  The initial end was always eaten last so that, should the pasty not be finished, it could be reclaimed by its owner. The proper pasty, however, filled with potatoes, turnip and a little meat, was a meal in itself.  For this reason it was most convenient to take into the fields or down the mine for consumption at ‘croust’ time.  Hard enough, so it is said, to be dropped down a mine shaft without breaking! 

Fish and Meat
Cornish pilchards were caught and salted down by the tens of thousands in the autumn.  They were prepared and served a dozen or more different ways, many of which would be considered unpalatable today.  The meat from the ubiquitous Cornish pig was widely eaten.  Almost every part of the animal was used, resulting in such Cornish specialities as Grovey Cake, Hog’s Pudding and the dubious pleasures of Muggety Pie.  Where necessary - and when the required salt could be afforded - portions of the carcass were preserved immediately after slaughter, for use during the coming year in the form of ham, bacon or pork. 

Cream
It is unlikely that many visitors leave Cornwall today without having tested its most delectable cream. Yet in former days the enjoyment of this delicacy was reserved only for those of comfortable means. Poorer families had to content themselves with skimmed milk or occasionally even this cream or ‘dippy’ but, given the chance, like their betters they too would enjoy dollops of clotted cream, not only with splits and sandwiches, fried eggs and brandy snaps, pies and pasties, but even with pilchards and potatoes. 

Spices
Looking through an Old Cornish cookery book, full of traditional recipes, it is not uncommon to find ingredients lists that contain hugely expensive and at the time difficult to come by spices, fruit and nuts.  It is clear that the positioning and the trading of Cornwall had a big effect on the cuisine.  One that is most traditional is Saffron.  As early as 400BC Saffron was traded for Cornish tin.  It remains a hugely expensive food that is uncommonly used in British cuisine. Apart from in Cornwall, where rich and poor have made and eaten the fruit tea loaf, Saffron Cake.

The Findhorn Fishwives

The Scottish coastline is punctuated with villages gathered around harbour. Fishing was once a thriving industry in Scotland, if not the strongest and the villages along the Moray Firth were once dependant on the waters.

Findhorn lies to the East of Inverness.  Its neighbouring towns, Buckie, Lossiemouth and Nairn were all key fishing towns because of the natural safe anchorage along the North East coast. Fishing was important to the village economy as it supported families during hard times and preserving fish meant food for the winter.  Catches of herring, salmon and whitefish were landed on the shore, they were equally divided between the men and then women would meet them. They were the real heroes. The fishwives were strong, hardy women who gathered, gutted, processed, sold and bartered the men’s catch. They would rise early, dress in sturdy shoes, thick stockings, a long skirt, an apron and a shawl to shelter from the rain. With their creel on their back they would meet the boats, fill up with the catch and walk miles to sell and barter the fish for food and household goods. They would start this career in their teens and work well into their 70s.  After this long hard day they would come home, cook and sometimes even collect and carry their husband home.

As well as the creel they would tie knitting needles and a pouch for wool around their waist, whilst waiting for the boats they would chatter and knit.  The jumpers, known as Ganseys, were all unique. The patterns would identify the male owner, marking whether he was married, how many children he had and where he was from.  The women would knit 7 jumpers for the men, who also required socks and woollen underwear. The girls would also repair and tie the nets and prepare the hooks for the men.

There is a statue in Nairn of a proud fisherwoman, standing with her basket on her back, facing the town with the beach behind her.  This statue commemorates the women who supported entire villages with their relentless work. Many wives and young women followed the fishing fleets chasing the seasons, travelling all over the country gutting, smoking and packing fish into barrels.  The aim was to earn enough for the year in those 6 weeks. By the time the First World War broke out, the industry collapsed and fishing slowly declined but there is still a van from Buckie that arrives each week with fresh fish to the ANTA factory, supplying us with our Moray Firth catch.  

Image: Carrying by John McNaught www.johnmcnaught.com

At ANTA we use only natural materials in both our textiles and ceramics.  Most of our fabrics are woollen based but we also use a little linen. Our linen products are made into kitchen accessories and a selection of cushions and lampshades.

The linen industry in Scotland prospered in the 18th century and due to the wavering of export duty, it became the countries biggest export. The industry then lead the way for cotton, jute and woollen industry that Scotland is now famous for, eventually being taken over by cotton and wool.  Fife and Forfar was the home of Scottish linen and we still weave ours in Kirkcaldy. 

Linen is at its best grown in countries with a cold and damp climate which is why Scotland and Ireland were some of the best producers. Scotland grew, manufactured and exported linen in the 17th century and then latterly in the 18th and 19th centuries flax was imported to Scotland to manufacture it into linen cloth. From the 1830s onwards the production of linen was increasingly mechanised with hundreds of mills springing up around Scotland and Ireland.  Today the industry has almost completely died out with only a handful of mills still running. Our mill in Fife is one of the last. 

Linen is very strong and heavy which makes it perfect for interior decoration.  It hangs well as blinds and curtains and wears well.  It is made from flax, which is naturally light in colour and it is incredibly absorbent, therefore it lends itself to being dyed.  The fibres are dyed before weaving and hold colour very well and the resulting woven fabric is bold and bright.  ANTA linen is dyed in a range of bold plain colours, and three tartan checks. 

Ben Vorlich is one of the traditional herringbone weave designs at ANTA.  Visually, the fabric resembles the backbone of a herring which is like a zig-zag, hence the name.  Ben Vorlich herringbone is woven in pure wool for three grades of fabric; lowland tweed, highland tweed and a heavier grade that we use for our carpets.  Annie uses herringbone weave structure as it allows her to mix two contrasting yarns that the human eye blends to make a more subtle but still a strong colour.  Ben Vorlich is a more neutral example, she blends a dark brown and cream to make a deep grey which as a carpet is especially good at concealing the dirt.  Because of its structure herringbone weave is strong and very hardwearing and our highland and lowland tweed cloth is perfect for upholstery and curtains. 

Annie named Ben Vorlich after the munro in the central belt of Scotland.  Looking over Loch Earn, Ben Vorlich was close to her family home and, because it was her dad’s favourite, the family climbed it regularly.   Tartans were traditionally named after families or clans in Scotland and tweeds were named after estates and places.  There is an ANTA collection of tweeds named after Scottish mountains, they are all in herringbone and are plain tweed designs.  

Wool

At ANTA we have followed the tradition of manufacturing carpet and cloth from Scottish wool for over thirty years.  Scotland has a strong historical textile industry and wool has been manufactured into lengths of cloth for clothing and carpets for hundreds of years. Sheep were bred across the country in rural areas and then the wool was processed and manufactured in the borders, just the same as today.  Unlike fur and leather, wool is harvested from the animal annually, meaning the fabric is sustainable and renewable.  Historically, sheep were bred for their wool, and their meat would have been a by product as mutton rather than the more popular lamb today.  The wool is washed and dyed before being spun into yarn. Because it is naturally crimped, wool is easy to spin into yarn for weaving.  Crucial for clothing, it is breathable which makes it an all year round material, in the winter the fibres trap heat and in the summer is lets the air circulate.  The strong fibres make it durable and long lasting.  Wool is known for being scratchy and at ANTA use the scratchiest for our carpet and tweed because it is the strongest.  

Although the fashion for wool declined with the invention of synthetic products, its popularity has increased over the years because of its renewable and natural qualities. For homeware and furnishing it is used now for its insulating, sound proofing and hypoallergenic properties.

The wilds of Caithness can sometimes be difficult to imagine.  The very farthest point of mainland Britain, it is the country at its the wildest and most remote.  With the North Coast 500 now a popular driving route, the northerly county is a prominent mark on the map.  The Norse place names Papigoe, Staxigoe, Keiss, Nybster, and Skirza prove that Caithness was a place once very far from the rest of the country. 

Northerly

Cyclists from Land’s End buckle down like the horizontal trees

with time and records to beat, they battle the impenetrable wind.

Sailors and surfers are blown in their pursuit of a thrill 

As the coast is thrashed by the wild sea and frothing water hits the rocks. 

Yet there is a also calm in Caithness. A still, quiet remoteness. 

Orkney looks on in the distance,

The islanders at the mercy of the weather, waiting. 

Giant turbines spin, one arm chasing the other drudging on.

Time slows in Caithness

It is the pinnacle of the country, 

Where proud castles cling onto the cliffs.

It has watched Vikings on boats, and battles with the Picts, 

whose story was carved into stone. 

Giant slabs overlap each other to close in the fields, 

The dark blue slate a signature of the north. 

Rolling sand dunes and sheer face cliffs, 

Mark the extreme edge of Scotland.

Stella Stewart 

One of the most remarkable natural occurrences is the appearance of the summer sand dunes grassland on the Outer Hebrides. From May to late Summer, the white shell sand dunes become a carpet of colour. The flowers appear as a result of careful land management and perfect natural conditions. The crofters rotate their crops meaning that only certain nutrients are taken from the land each year, allowing for wild plants to flourish. Often as you go to the beach, you come across cattle sleepily wandering and grazing on the rich grasses. They in turn fertilise the land. The crofters also use natural crop fertilisers allowing for organic wild growth. These elements all contribute to the Outer Hebrides as home to the beautiful Machair.  

Machair is the word for low, fertile grassy plain but here on Uist it has become the local name for the abundant wild flowers. The flowers differ across each island, Harris and Benbecula and the Uists, which have the most extensive range. In late spring early summer, yellow dominates then this changes into reds, whites and blues. 

The colours of Uist aren’t confined to the Machair though, the big skies are a changing seasonal palette. As easily as the sun rises the sky can bruise and then as quickly are back to brilliant blue, then pink and orange in the late evenings. In the winter the low sun reflects the sky in the watery landscape. Fleeting colours and hues will come and go often succumbing to the familiar Scottish grey haar from the sea.