Anka: The colors change somewhat unexpectedly!

Kasia: Yes, in this double-warped fabric she used three colors—white, orange, and green in the warp, and three colors in the weft. The pattern is fully coded on the loom; it’s a double-warped fabric woven on 24 shafts.

Anka: So it’s not selective.

Kasia: No, it’s not selective. You can see that it splits in half. She received a distinction for this work last year at the Kujawsko-Pomorskie Center of Culture.

Anka: Wonderful!

Kasia: She started weaving it thinking it would become a rug, but someone asked, “Are you really making a rug out of this?” When a small board was attached to the fabric, it stayed that way, waiting to be shown in an exhibition. Double-warped fabric is her most difficult technique mainly because she never had enough time to fully dedicate herself to it. Nevertheless, every technique requires precision, and once you understand the principles, the work flows.

Anka: Do you use old patterns and reproduce them?

Kasia: Yes.

Anka: And do you ever modify or modernize them?

Kasia: Absolutely. Last year, she received a scholarship from the Mayor of Białystok for a project called “Studies on Modernizing Folk Textiles.” At the Podlaskie Museum of Folk Culture, she selected over six textiles, prepared weaving reports, and created her own interpretations. One piece from the scholarship is a scarf; the others are woven artworks where traditional patterns were enlarged and recreated with new yarns. She also used a different type of linen—previously, linen was hand-spun and had different characteristics. She created eight pieces in total. The mentioned scarf comes from a 16-shaft woolen bedspread. Upon reading the pattern, she realized it was a damask weave. A hundred years ago in Podlasie, women wove damask on 16 shafts! She applied new yarn and colors—this is her study on modernizing tradition.

Anka: And it turns out incredibly modern!

Kasia: Yes, the geometric pattern itself is excellent. She kept it one-to-one, unaltered—exactly as it originally appeared.

Anka: Does it still make sense to learn traditional techniques?

Kasia: Of course. For her, it is mainly a way to preserve national heritage and culture. Some people forget their roots and lose a sense of belonging. Running workshops, she sees that people are often surprised by how tedious and time-consuming weaving is. Some women say, “Now I understand how much time my grandmother spent weaving this, how difficult it was.” This is our tradition, which must be preserved. In the 1970s and 1980s, rugs and bedspreads were associated with “the countryside.” People discarded or burned them because they wanted factory-made textiles. They desired something modern, as traditional patterns had grown tired to them.

Anka: They had grown tired.

Kasia: Yes, now we see a return to tradition. People are seeking natural yarns and handcrafted products. Even if we don’t have carriages to drape bedspreads on, one can imagine someone placing such a textile in a car.

Anka: In a luxury car, it would add speed!

Kasia: Her brother once joked, “Maybe you could weave seat covers for my car?” She replied that she would try if she had time. Interest is growing because people are talking about textiles again. If we stayed silent, they would be forgotten. New forms, like seat covers, cosmetic bags, or pillows, attract attention at fairs. People hold them and nostalgically say, “Oh, my grandmother had these bedspreads—they’re beautiful!”

Anka: The sentiment awakens.

Kasia: Exactly. People start appreciating it, so preserving the tradition is essential. In the past, every rural household had looms. Women set them up after Christmas and wove until Easter. Today, that’s gone, but we can weave continuously, even if it’s not our main source of income. It’s our tradition and must continue.

Anka: You already answered my next question: do people still like traditional techniques?

Kasia: Yes. Maybe not everyone, but more and more people smile and appreciate the craft. They want even a small piece of handmade work. Not to mention modern weaving, like her scarves—it’s great to have something unique that friends don’t have.

Anka: True! Do you use a computer for designing patterns?

Kasia: Absolutely. It’s a quick method that allows for easy pattern modification and visualization. When she reads patterns from folk textiles, she immediately sees if she is doing it correctly.

Anka: Easy to check.

Kasia: Yes, easy to check, save, and return to the project anytime. This allows her to build her own digital archive.

Anka: That’s valuable! Not in scattered notebooks and loose papers…

Kasia: Exactly. She created radziuszka.pl for this purpose, documenting completed scholarships and sharing weaving reports, which can be printed and used for weaving.

Anka: Do you recommend any specific software for multi-shaft weaving?

Kasia: She uses Fiberworks. From a tech perspective, the interface is slightly outdated and has some bugs to be aware of, but overall it works well.

Anka: Can you get used to it?

Kasia: Yes, she got used to it. It’s reasonably priced. There are also new tools—she has an app on her phone to design patterns even while traveling by train.

Anka: In your opinion, is there a trait that defines a good weaver? Without it, are you doomed to fail at the loom?

Kasia: People say a good weaver should be able to weave anything, but she believes it’s best to specialize in one technique. Quality is key—a good weaver produces even, beautiful textiles. Color and design are often client preferences, but technique must be flawless. Folk artists must primarily be skilled craftsmen, even when creating original designs.

Anka: Can anyone be a weaver?

Kasia: Not everyone feels it. Many lack patience. When they sit at a loom, they quickly realize it’s not for them, though they still admire the finished works.

Anka: Maybe you need both a weaver and a buyer who appreciates the work, even if they don’t weave themselves.

Kasia: Today weaving doesn’t have to be purely commercial. One can weave for pleasure or gifts. But not everyone has the calling. Many weavers she knows say, “I just felt I wanted to do this.” It’s a vocation.

Anka: I’ve seen materials about people with physical disabilities… I thought these aren’t real obstacles.

Kasia: If someone truly wants it, they overcome barriers, even vision-related ones. She notices her own eyesight is declining, but paradoxically, weaving helped other ailments. She had severe cervical spine problems, and the specific movements in weaving relieved her pain. It’s completely different muscles than using a computer. Weaving “loosened” and healed her.

Anka: Wow! And how would you like to be called? If you see your name, what would you want after the dash?

Kasia: That’s difficult. She cannot clearly define herself in one category. She doesn’t feel like an artist, though she loves the process of designing and imagining. She would like to identify with weavers but maintains humility toward the craft. Weaver? Folk creator? She just weaves because she loves it, and doesn’t know what should follow the dash.

Anka: Two last questions. First: what’s the best thing about weaving?

Kasia: The best is the process of imagining and designing—what emerges when choosing yarns and colors. She used to enjoy weaving itself; now sometimes it’s tedious, but it still brings great calm. Listening to audiobooks, she has time for herself and the fabric. The greatest joy is cutting the finished fabric from the loom.

Anka: That’s what I was waiting for!

Kasia: Yes, it’s the end of a project, which immediately opens space for the next one.

Anka: Second question, for balance: what’s the worst thing about weaving?

Kasia: Without a doubt, correcting mistakes. Spotting an error in the warp, especially in the middle, is nerve-wracking. You feel you’ve lost hours or a whole day of work. And she hates making extra shafts. Those are the unpleasant moments one has to accept.