Satin — where it appears
Named by 29 essays across 4 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Plain, twill and satin
Three rules, and everything else in weaving is a variation on them. What separates the three is not appearance but one trade — how often a thread changes face against how far it runs when it does not.
What a dobby stores
A pattern chain does not store picks. It stores lifts — the distinct sets of shafts a draft ever raises — and for most drafts worth weaving that number is very much smaller than the number of picks, which is the second half of the reason a wide repeat is affordable.
There is no satin on six ends
Weavers have known it as a rule for centuries. It is a theorem with a one-line proof about common factors, and it rules out four ends as well.
A damask is its own complement
The pattern is carried by direction alone. Figure and ground are the same satin, one warp-face and one weft-face, with the same longest float, the same shaft count and the same threading — so the cloth's most famous effect costs it no structural difference whatever between the two areas.
What a repeat repeats
Point paper is ruled in squares, and the rectangle a draft is written on is a decision by whoever drew it. The unit a cloth actually has is smaller — two intersections for a plain weave, four for a 2/2 twill — and it is not a rectangle at all.
Why satin shines
Lustre is usually filed under fibre, and silk gets the credit. It is a property of the weave: a cylinder reflects a line rather than a point, so the highlight a cloth returns is exactly as long as its longest float.
Floats and abrasion
A satin is said to wear badly. It does not wear quickly — its flat face spreads the rubbing over more thread than a plain weave's crowns do. What it does is fail badly, and those are different quantities moving in opposite directions.
Designing to a float limit
Every jacquard designer works to a rule of the form nothing longer than four. It reads as a constraint on a drawing. It is really a statement about how much of the catalogue exists, and the catalogue shrinks as the repeat grows.
Which satins are worth weaving
Manuals give the moves a satin admits as a list, as though the survivors were interchangeable. They are not. Measure how far apart the interlacings sit and the traditional counter turns out to be the best move at the orders a weaver mostly uses — and to fail first at thirteen, where the square root names four and five scatters further.
A rectangular block is not half a rule
The block rule was proved for square blocks and the rectangular case was recorded as not run, on the grounds that a block a repeat wide and half a repeat deep satisfies only half the condition. Running it turns up two things: half the condition rules out the failure nobody can see, and a block turned through a right angle is a different design — which a square census cannot notice, because a square block is its own transpose.
A crepe cannot be structureless
A crepe weave is designed to have no line in it anywhere. The correlations of a draft with itself sum to a number fixed by the repeat alone, so structure can be spread and never removed — and on eight ends the floor turns out to be half the repeat, set by a fact about binary words with nothing textile in it.
A figured cloth has a step in its surface
A damask is one cloth in one set of threads at one sett, and it is not flat. A thread presses on the thread it crosses only where it turns, so a region that turns less often is pressed less often, flattens less and stands thicker — and the step is a ratio of interlacing rates, read off the matrix with no yarn property in it.
Where a stitch can hide
One reversed intersection turns two cloths into one, and half the intersections in the repeat would do it. Almost none of them may be used — a plain-faced double cloth has nowhere at all to put a stitch, a five-end satin has fifteen places or none depending on which rule is asked, and two satins of the same order differ by a factor of two.
A shading changes two things at once
The tone steps of a shaded damask are exactly even — each adds one satin coset, so the fraction of warp on the face is k over n with no averaging in it. The lustre steps are not even at all: on eight ends the longest float runs 7, 3, 3, 1, 3, 3, 7, so a series that grades smoothly in tone is at its most matt exactly in the middle.
The three basic weaves do not generate the rest
Every weaving manual opens with the same sentence: there are three basic weaves, and everything else is derived from them. The complete catalogue of the smallest interesting repeat is in hand, so the claim can be checked instead of repeated. Starting from plain weave, every twill and every satin, and applying every derivation the manuals name, reaches nine of the 426 cloths that exist there.
What combining two weaves reaches
The account before it found that the manuals' own operations on their own basic weaves reach nine of the 426 four-by-four cloths, and recorded one exclusion honestly: combination — striping, checking and figuring — was left out, because a combination of two four-end weaves is eight ends wide and so is not a four-by-four cloth at all. Admitting it triples the reach and leaves ninety-three per cent of the catalogue outside.
A float presses on nothing
The rung below expected the float correction to change how a satin's hold compares with a plain weave's, by something like the ratio of their interlacing rates. It does not change the comparison at all — the interlacing rate leaves the answer outside the logarithm and divides straight out of any ratio. What it changes is the absolute answer, by a factor of four, for every weave alike.
The six-end satin that does exist
There is no six-end satin, and this collection proved it in its founding essays. The proof is about satins with a move number. Drop that word — keep one mark per end and no two marks touching — and six ends has exactly one satin, unique up to where the repeat is started, and four ends still has none at all.
How sharply a weave lets a cloth fold
A fold's length difference is paid for out of crimp, and crimp is not spread evenly along a thread — it is made at the interlacings and nowhere else. So what a fold has to spend is not the weave's average crimp but whatever is inside the few picks the fold crosses, and in an eight-end satin half the warp ends have nothing there at all.
A tone ramp is a valley, and the satin digs it
A shading's tone is exact and its lustre is measured; its thickness is neither, and nobody specifies it. A firmer weave is pressed harder at every crossing and finishes thinner, so an eight-end shading sinks eighty-four micrometres between its ends and its midtone — about a third of the cloth's whole thickness, on every cloth tried. Build the same chain on a twill instead of a satin and the sag is exactly nothing.
A tone step does not need a satin
Every account of shading builds its tone steps out of satin cosets, and at four ends and at six there is no satin to build them from. The construction was never about satins: what a tone step actually needs is that every end and every pick carry the same number of marks, which makes a chain of them a Latin square. A four-end repeat has twenty-four of those and a six-end repeat 1,128,960.
A damask's edge floats further than its figure
Figure and ground in a damask carry the same longest float, which is true of both areas and false along the line between them. A float can cross the edge where two tones meet, and when one tone's marks lie inside the other's it can never be longer than a float either tone already has. A damask built as an exact complement is the one place in n that its ground can start which breaks this, and it floats n picks at its edge against n − 1 inside.
A point tie nearly doubles the float at the turn
A point tie halves the hooks a symmetrical figure needs by driving every hook's end twice, out and back. It mirrors the ground as well, and a satin is symmetrical about no end: across the turn its weft floats 2n − 3 ends, or 2n − 2 between ends, at every hook count and wherever the satin starts. At eight ends that is thirteen or fourteen against seven — and the turn's other promise, more repeats that fit the width, is not kept either.
A brocade weft floats as far as the next figure
A brocade's pattern weft is a third thread, laid on the face only where the figure wants it. Thrown from selvedge to selvedge it floats on the back across the whole gap to the next figure, unless an end is dropped under it — and on a satin ground a dropped end hides only where the ground already interlaces. That fixes the shortest float that shows nothing, at the larger of the move and its complement less one, and puts the smoothest satin ground at odds with the best-bound brocade.
Most satins still have a diagonal
A satin is chosen so that no diagonal forms, and its move is ranked by how far apart its interlacings sit. But the interlacings of a regular satin lie on a lattice, every lattice has a shortest step, and the marks line up along it. Only when two shortest steps tie is there no row to follow — and between five and forty ends the best move manages that at twelve of the thirty-five orders.
A float limit leaves one row-free satin
A satin is chosen so that no diagonal forms, and an earlier essay found that most of them fail: the interlacings lie on a lattice, every lattice has a shortest step, and the marks line up along it unless two steps tie — which happens at twelve of the thirty-five orders from five to forty. The other constraint was named and not applied. An n-end satin floats over n − 1, so a yarn that will not carry a float longer than eight admits four orders in all, and exactly one of them is row-free: the five-end satin, which is the one everybody already weaves.
An irregular satin scatters where a regular one lines up
A regular satin's marks lie on a lattice, so its closest pairs all run along one vector and make a row. An irregular satin has no lattice at all, so its closest pairs may point several ways at once — and at seven and nine ends, where every regular satin at the best spread has a row, an irregular one reaches the same spread with its closest pairs scattered over four directions and no more than a third in any one. At eight and eleven ends there is no such satin: the best spread is reached by regular satins alone, and irregularity has nothing to offer.
A satin's row belongs to its sett
Point paper draws an end and a pick as equal squares, and every result about which satins have a row was taken there. A cloth is not square: it is set at so many ends and so many picks a centimetre, and in cloth the ties that made twelve satin orders row-free are ties between steps of different shape, which break at the first per cent of unequal sett. The reverse happens too. An eight-end satin, rowed on paper, has no row at exactly 1.291 ends per pick; an eleven-end at 1.265 and 1.528. And the only scatter that survives a range of setts is an irregular satin whose closest steps are mirror images — which nine ends has from the first per cent and ten only by 1.3.
A turned block is a moved origin
An eight-end satin figured on a 2/2 twill fails on 55,536 profiles at a block eight picks by two ends and on none at two by eight, and that was read as a property of the block's shape. Sweep the relative origin as well and the two shapes trade places: at every one of the sixteen origins exactly one of them fails, and over the sixteen they fail equally often. A shape asymmetry that no origin removes exists, and it needs a satin whose move squared is not one.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
FloatMove numberCensusRepeatScatterTwillDamaskSymmetryEnumerationInterlacingJacquardPoint paper