We talk to Dari Zaeva (they/them), who is one of the initiators and organisers of the Pirate Stitching Club. An illustration graduate from the WdKA who “likes zines, theatre and tea”, Dari has, over the last few years, previously worked at WORM as a volunteer and an intern for WORM’s Arts and Performance programme. Now they oversee The Pirate Stitching Club – a group of likeminded artists, creatives and socio-cultural activists who regularly meet up in WORM’s Stube to stitch, knit, sew, and swap skills. The club is one of a number of free local activities that take place regularly at WORM, ones which open up channels and opportunities for alternative knowledge sharing, and just having some space to breathe in these difficult times.
Let’s set the scene, Dari. You are sitting in the Wunderbar Stube, holding a long and winding emotional support worm: which you made?
D: No! This was made by someone else, during the session when we made all the pillows and this person made a huge pink worm. Most of the pillows [of many different shapes] found in the Stube are made by the group. We are planning to make some more.
Why did you start?
D: It was about “a want” to connect with people, and have a space where learning would be on a skill-share basis, not on a workshop basis. When I started it I was only just getting into knitting and crochet. I originally crocheted, but I learned knitting from Mimi Rinsum on one of the first sessions. And it’s easier to learn something like knitting from people than from videos, because mostly we are just gathering together and having conversations, and the learning comes from that.
There is something really, really boring from learning from a video, isn’t there?
D: Exactly! It’s very two-dimensional, it’s hard to figure out the specific techniques or how to figure out what your hands do on a screen. But I think a big part of craft is learning from other people and passing it down as a knowledge, a skill.
The old ways! How is it different to learn in actual, human space
D: I think in human space you can ask a person to explain again, and you can see things happen at a different angle. When I am teaching something or showing a person a technique, l normally sit shoulder to shoulder and show them the stitches. And you can adjust more easily. But it’s also just – a human connection?
The old “the hand, the heart, the eye” moment isn’t it?
D: When you seek information online, to learn, you often only learn what you want to learn. You don’t get much of a spread that you don’t know yet. Here, when you see people coming to the club every month and they are all doing different stuff like embroidery or specific techniques, or knitting patterns, and you also realise what you would like to learn, maybe.
Unexpected differences!
D: Exactly. And the magic of creating something. Sometimes you can wear a creation you made, with two sticks and a thread!
The idea of real space, the Pirate Stitching Club is about space and dimensions being important. That something becomes something else through touch and experiment, over, and in, time.
D: Yes, that something evolves from it. It’s important: I can feel how this aspect of touching, and connecting with materials also comes with the conversations I have with people. Because a lot of the time, based on the backgrounds of the people who come here, we discuss some very heavy topics: I dunno, the rise in fascism or something! And it’s nice to have something that keeps you grounded.
You can work it out, through your hands. And doing it here in the Stube, with all the different surfaces, is the perfect place?
D: Yeah! Especially now we have natural light from the windows. It’s a very adjustable space. When we were doing sessions with sewing and quilting we had a sewing machine over in the corner. And we will have it again. There is normally a huge table and there is yarn and fabric everywhere. And it becomes a making room. And given WORM and Wunderbar are spaces that allow a lot of creative chaos, so a little bit of mess is good.
…And what gets made kind of reflects that [picks up a square pillow] this was supposed to be a tomato, but, I don’t know… but it fits WORM perfectly! [Laughs]
People and hands, what a combination! WORM has always had a tradition of making things: the stages and the bar were handmade.
D: You can really see all the touches of many different people over time.
And now some bits, like the bar, start to look like a Neolithic cave!
D: I think WORM for me is all about making things with your hands, but also being artistically weird. A lot of people who work here and come here are artists in more than one sense and create things that somehow belong here, probably because it is an open and multifaceted space.
Different people?
D: Maybe it’s due to a particular feel to Rotterdam’s art stages and scenes. There is a more experimental feel to Rotterdam. In other cities it feels more confined. Even in Berlin, there are a lot more rules and conventions creeping in.
How long do you think will last? You know that artists often change course over time.
D: I can see that, but I don’t necessarily see the Pirate Stitching Club as an art project or practice, this is more of a community thing and a space to meet people. And as long as people come, I will do it. And it’s emerged as an entity a lot in the last year, from the initial ideas I had for it. Initially it was linked into the WORM Pirate Bay, and the DVD collection that we had there. So, in the first session we had a little screen in the corner, it was a documentary about student protests; I don’t remember exactly what it was. But then I noticed that nobody was paying attention and people were way more interested in just talking to each other and in sharing experiences. It was clear they didn’t need more instruction in the form of another artwork. So things became talking sessions, or people now bring their own artworks and want to chat. Sometimes a session is focussed on a specific technique, or a making path. They merge over different things quite a lot. I really like the fact that so far the club hasn’t become a structured workshop, because that is where I didn’t want it to go.
…I love the freedom! Let’s see where it flies.
Is this a nostalgic thing? Lots of old technologies are back in play with all you young people! It’s radical and underground isn’t it?
D: A rise of full-on, actual, samizdat culture! [Laughs] There is a clear value in seeing something that is made by hand. And we see it with riso printing and zine making. There is also a value in making mistakes.
This isn’t just a fashion?
D: Do I think it’s fashionable to be knitting? Maybe, but it’s also a very old and trusted way of connecting to people. It has such a rich tradition, from many different cultures. I didn’t get to experience this tradition within my own family, but now I am experiencing it with my friends and random people at WORM. My favourite moment is when I see people of your age who see us knitting and they say, “Oh we went to a Waldorf primary school and I learned how to knit when I was five.” And you remember these crafts. I feel like it’s too slow to be a fashion. You need to dedicate your time, resources and mindspace to it. And actually focus on making! Maybe there is an element of fashion at present, but that is maybe also driven by a need of community and a need of communities that are driven by making things with your hands. There is a big rise in knitting clubs. Over all ages!
…There is also a need to not be engaged with your phone and your newsfeed. A conversation that is much more caring than just scrolling.
What is technology for you?
I like to think of technology as a way to adapt to our world and extend our human bodies into something. Even physically accessing archives or physically finding other possibilities. But now it’s also become a way of limitation, and something that is questioning our security in the world and how we position ourselves. It’s still a cool “other dimension”. I see a lot of cool projects that are combining craft and technology, but yeah… it’s just more and more ethical questions with every decision, update, or click!
Photographs courtesy of the Pirate Stitching Club and Richard Foster.