Warp strain against shaft position
The warp strain a shed puts into an end, against the distance of its shaft from the fell, for 40 shafts on a warp line of 1200 mm at a half-shed tangent of 0.1667. The exact trigonometry and the leading-order form t² a / 2(L − a) are drawn separately and agree to within 5.67 per cent over the whole harness.
11 essays call
loom-curve. The drawing above is what it returns with no arguments at all; every
call below passes it something, because a placement that passes nothing draws whichever
member of the family the generator happens to default to rather than the weave its essay
argues about.
Where it is called
Changing this generator changes every one of these figures.
The shed is an extension
Every model of a finished cloth treats a thread as inextensible, and every one of them is about a fabric that has left the loom. On the loom the warp is stretched thousands of times a minute by the shed itself, and the amount is exact trigonometry with nothing fitted in it: the square of the shed's tangent, times the shaft's own distance from the fell, over twice what is left behind it.
The back shaft works hardest
How hard the loom is on a warp end is the product of two numbers from different worlds — how often its column changes sides, which is a property of a binary matrix with no millimetre in it, and the strain of the shaft it happens to be on, which is a property of a machine with no weave in it. Neither knows about the other, and the threading that joins them is a decision nobody makes on structural grounds.
A figure is harder on its warp
Every basic weave flexes all its ends exactly as often as each other — plain, twill, satin and sateen alike, and it is a one-line theorem. Figure one of them on another and that evenness goes, or does not, depending on where the ground weave was started relative to the figure. The same invisible offset that decides whether a fine figure holds together decides, at a coarse one, how unevenly the loom works the warp.
The reed is not the sett
A reed holds the warp at a pitch, and the cloth that leaves it is narrower — by exactly the weft's crimp, with nothing fitted and nothing approximated. On a close balanced sheeting that is 12.75 per cent, on an open scrim 1.87, and a weaver who allowed one figure for both would be wrong by a factor of nearly seven.
The setts a loom can reach
Transposing a draft gives a perfectly good draft, and every count this site takes off a matrix either is symmetric under exchanging warp and weft or has a mirror twin. The loom is not symmetric at all: over the range ordinary cloth is woven in, it can choose a pick density 99 times more finely than a warp sett — and the warp sett cannot be changed once the warp is drawn in, at any granularity whatever.
What the shed costs, in newtons
The shed's strain has been computed here and could not be priced: a strain is a length over a length and says nothing about how hard a thread is being pulled. A modulus turns it into a tension — and the back shaft of a twenty-four-shaft harness turns out to hold its ends at half their breaking load, all day, from the geometry alone.
The harness has a depth
Why does a dobby carry sixteen or twenty-four shafts rather than two hundred? The usual answers are about the mechanism — how many jacks a box can drive, how many hooks a dobby has — and they are real limits that are not the binding one. A stated tolerance on warp strain is a stated distance from the fell, and a stated distance is a whole number of shafts. One per cent buys thirteen.
A repeat has to fit the width
A repeat tiles the plane and a warp has two edges, so somewhere between them a repeat is cut through. The set of repeat widths that divide a warp exactly is the set of divisors of its body, and a body of a few thousand ends has a few dozen — two to eight per cent of the candidates. So a designer choosing a repeat for any reason except the width chooses one that does not fit, and the leftover averages half a repeat, split between the two selvedges.
A repeat has to fit the panel, and the panel is cut
The warp's width is fixed at warping and a piece's length is not, so the fitting problem in the two directions is not the same problem. Along the length a repeat has to fit a *panel*, because every panel of a patterned cloth must start at the same phase or the pattern breaks at the seams — and the allowance is a whole repeat per panel. A ten-centimetre repeat costs a seventy-centimetre panel twelve and a half per cent and a sixty-four-centimetre repeat costs it forty-eight.
Two lots of one cloth drift apart down a drop
A pattern repeat is a count of picks, and its length in the finished cloth is whatever that count's loom length became after the cloth gave back its crimp. Two lots woven with the warp held a tenth harder give back 1.13 points more of their length — so matched at the top, two lengths from the two lots are thirty millimetres apart at a 250 cm hem, and visibly apart a quarter of a metre down. The size of the repeat does not enter, and no cutting allowance can take it out.
A skew steps at every seam and a bow at none
A finished cloth's weft rows are seldom square to its selvedges, and on a patterned cloth the weft rows are the pattern rows. A skew — rows straight but slanting — puts its whole rise across every seam where two widths meet: two per cent on a 140 cm width is a 28 mm step, and matching the steps out tips the whole hanging instead, 112 mm across four widths. A bow — rows curving between level selvedges — matches perfectly at every seam and scallops each width in between. A three-millimetre match needs a skew under a quarter of a per cent, and down the seam a lot difference overtakes it.