Anka: And which technique is the most difficult?

Eugeniusz: It depends on why it’s difficult. For someone, technically speaking, multi-shaft weaving may be hard. I don’t mean four shafts; I mean eight or nine. If you need to adjust a traditional folk loom, or even a Glimåkra loom (though that one is a bit easier), it’s technically demanding. For me, that’s not a complication – it actually excites me. I like setting up the shafts and adjusting everything. In terms of time consumption, I think brocaded fabric is extremely difficult. It expands artistic possibilities: you can create something, lay out colors and patterns. But it’s very time-consuming, because everything is picked by hand. With multi-shaft weaving, the preparation is long, but the weaving process is fast.

Tapestries and carpet weavings are also time-consuming. The more colors, the slower the weaving speed – and that determines the difficulty. With perebory, for example: a looser warp and shorter thread will make the work progress faster. But if you use thin threads, like size 30 sewing threads, the fabric will grow much more slowly! I consider every technique complicated – everything comes out in the wash, so to speak. Planning the material properly is crucial.

Anka: From what I’ve seen of you, the most difficult technique seems to be the one you’ve just started – the one you’re learning again from scratch.

Eugeniusz: Yes, the one ahead of you is always the most difficult. For me, the most difficult part is also the middle of the fabric. At the beginning you’re excited, you want to see how it turns out, so you go fast, fast, fast! But closer to the middle you start getting bored… That’s how it is for me. If I push myself through the middle, then I’ll finish it. Toward the end it becomes cheerful again, downhill, you weave faster. Crossing that middle – that’s the barrier.

Anka: So the middle of the fabric is the hardest part.

Eugeniusz: Exactly – no matter the technique. Once you’re past halfway, it’s downhill! The beginning is always exciting: how will it look? how will it turn out? You run through the pattern repeat. Then you’ve already seen it, and that middle… you have to push yourself. Near the end it goes quickly again.

Anka: Do you tinker with old patterns, or do you recreate them faithfully?

Eugeniusz: It depends. I really enjoy recreating fabrics, even the old color combinations. That, for me, was also an art – how the colors were combined. For example, choosing the right red in perebory is difficult: it depends on the warp color, the weft colors. How do you combine them so they don’t clash? Sometimes when I want to recreate a pattern, I have to improvise: I have these threads, I want this size… So I adjust to recreate something similar with different materials. Unfortunately, it’s hard to recreate old fabrics with contemporary materials. Every weaver spun differently, to suit herself. Even spinning the yarn – the quality, stiffness or softness – is very hard to reproduce. I find it fascinating. I like recreating, but there’s always something of mine in it: my own vision, my color combination. If you don’t have the exact color, you improvise so it doesn’t clash. I like recreating old patterns and fabrics mainly to show how beautiful they are. Simple, sometimes very simple solutions – but beautiful!

Anka: And already tested by generations.

Eugeniusz: Yes. What I love about folk weaving is that if something seems very complicated, you’re probably on the wrong path. Folk weaving wasn’t complicated – everything was simple and logical. If you’re struggling and thinking “how complicated!” – you’re on the wrong track. Think how to make it as simple as possible. They were very simple tricks. Recently, with perebor fabrics with flowers, I thought there was red, then background, then white. I wove, and it looked similar, but it wasn’t right. One tip from an older weaver – green, white, white, green, red, white, white, red – solved the problem. Just one small hint.

Anka: Do you think people still like traditional fabrics?

Eugeniusz: Like with everything, there will be haters. But many people still have memories from their homes, especially in regions where textiles were common. They see something beautiful in it. I believe every such fabric has a soul, the emotions of the weaver woven into it. There’s something in these fabrics – they’re handmade, not perfectly even…

Anka: Do you think everyone feels that?

Eugeniusz: No. People won’t weave like they used to. You can’t restore that. There’s no need anymore, no need to weave large household cloths. This is my hobby. Sometimes they ask me: why do you weave and put it in the wardrobe? And I was raised to believe that in our home there should be 80–90 sheets in the wardrobe, that’s it. Like at my grandmother’s: I use them to cover the bed. Instead of a blanket, I like to throw one on. I have a cover on the swing outside, too. Even my animals, the dog and cats, appreciate handmade fabrics – especially wool. They like the smell, and there’s something different about that fabric.

So some appreciate it, some don’t. Even today, when clothes and textiles are so accessible and cheap. I’m glad that weaving has at least survived. There are enthusiasts and amateurs who will preserve it. Maybe times will change and handmade work will be appreciated and continued. The point is to preserve it, not necessarily to spread it everywhere. But it’s good that people know how it was made and that they can create something like this themselves.

Anka: Do you think it makes sense to learn traditional weaving techniques?

Eugeniusz: First of all, everyone likes what they like. Some prefer modern equipment and contemporary weaves – you can’t change or impose that. But unlike contemporary textiles, folk fabric has character. You can look at it and tell where it comes from. Folk techniques are unique; they can enrich contemporary weaving with their richness and add character. At least it will be clear that it’s Polish, not just another work from widely available English-language literature. But again – to each their own.

Anka: When it comes to designing: do you use software or draw on graph paper?

Eugeniusz: I work on graph paper. I sketch on squared paper and then refine the shapes. That’s how I always do double-warp weaving.

Anka: Always by hand?

Eugeniusz: You can buy programs. You can calculate everything for multi-shaft weaving. When I used to weave shawl fabrics, it worked well – you invent a weave and plan it. But now, when I’m recreating folk patterns, sometimes I just take a photo. I look at the image or the fabric and design from that. If I design a patterned fabric, it’s mathematics: you sit down and count. You find the repeat, write it out, and calculate. It’s nice in software to see the number of treadlings and everything… But I get satisfaction from drawing on paper and figuring it out. Often the treadlings and footwork come out during weaving. Whether the weft is thicker, or even two fabrics with similar shapes – one may have ten treadlings, another eight. I adjust it to the materials. In Belarus I spoke with weavers who weave double-warp fabrics. They said sometimes you have to throw the shuttle twice, sometimes three times and adjust. That’s a complication, because it’s easy to confuse the sides later. It’s easier with even numbers, but sometimes you need an odd count. Then it’s complicated, because you always start from the right – and suddenly once from the right, once from the left, and don’t make a mistake!

Anka: Do you prefer to be called an artist, a weaver, a folk weaver, a craftsman? How would you like to be described?

Eugeniusz: I definitely don’t consider myself an artist. I don’t have that state of mind. I know artists and I know what that looks like. I like recreating, designing something, inventing something. I prefer to call myself a weaver, even a folk weaver. I’ve done many non-folk things on commission for years. But folk weaving is my hobby. What I used to do on commission was my job. Maybe one day I’ll want to be an artist and create something new. But right now I try to retell and pass on the wisdom of folk weaving, so it doesn’t disappear. Unfortunately, everything is becoming similar. What I admire in folk weaving is that you could enter a place and know: these clothes or sheets are from this region. Even a simple striped fabric – ethnographers could identify it. Now everything looks similar. Sadly, the generation of true folk women weavers has passed away. Only a few individuals remain. And because of age or health, they can no longer collaborate or talk much. If you weren’t involved in it, you won’t understand them. They have dialect names. Sometimes I sit down to talk and mention five different names for one part of the loom just to find the one they used. I carry this and want to show that what once seemed rustic, ugly, peasant-like to me – how much beauty and generational wisdom is in it! Why did they choose that color, that weave? Because it worked in use. My grandmother said a bedsheet should be plain weave, but a pillowcase should be herringbone – it wouldn’t wear out so much under the head. It was smoother and more pleasant to the face, less scratchy. Everything was very practical.

Anka: What defines a good weaver? And if someone doesn’t have that quality, can they not be a good weaver?

Eugeniusz: I’ve met quite a few people on my path who weave. I’ve led workshops, taught… I like that everyone is different. Someone is fast but inaccurate – and interesting things still come out. Someone is slow and meticulous. You shouldn’t rush them; they’re precise and create something beautiful. Someone beats the weft hard, someone weaves loosely – the same pattern turns out differently. It’s like handwriting, like a person’s character. So I can’t say someone is good or bad. Why didn’t everyone once weave with a picking stick? They invented the shuttle to go faster, but don’t realize it’s also more convenient. I had a student who wove at the same pace whether using a stick or a shuttle. She’s slow, and I must respect that. That’s her rhythm. She doesn’t have to rush. I think above all you must create with heart and soul.

Anka: And it doesn’t matter whether you’re…

Eugeniusz: …whether you’re an artist or a weaver. If you create with heart, everyone who weaves is, in some way, an artist. Even if you try to recreate a fabric, the colors won’t come out exactly the same. It will be different because, for example, of a different beat. Everyone perceives colors differently. So everyone, in their own small way, is also an artist.

Anka: Last question: what’s the best thing about weaving?

Eugeniusz: I think you never fully know what the final result will be – that surprise. You set this up, you set that up… Today the fabric seems ugly; later you take it off the loom – and it’s not ugly at all! Someone praises it, someone is amazed: what a leftover fabric, what a color solution! And I had thought: it’s just scraps, I’ll throw it on the swing for the dog. And it turns out to be a work of art. You never fully know what will come out – and it’s never exactly as you planned.

Eugeniusz Markiewicz was born on June 16, 1991, in the city of Lida, Belarus. He has been practicing weaving and spinning since the age of 10. He continues the weaving traditions of the Poles from the Kresy regions of Vilnius and Grodno.

He learned from folk weavers: Bronisława Oleferowicz (born 1924), Leokadia Markiewicz (née Puczko, born 1934), Helena Grażyńska (born 1926), Anna Tuczkowska (born 1926), and Stanisława Michno (born 1932).

Eugeniusz works in techniques such as broszowanie, multi-shaft weaving, perebory, and picked up fabric. He first learned double-warp weaving in 2012 from Jadwiga Rajska, a pupil of Maria Bełakoz, a well-known double-warp weaver of “double carpets.”

His first major work and participation in a competition was in Janów in 2022, where he received a distinction. His second competition participation in 2023 earned him first prize. In his works, he often uses hand-spun threads.