Like what you see?

The metal screen printing frames in Cressida Bell’s studio are worn and used. Stacked in rows, there is little apart from a word written on each of their sides – ‘Allium’, ‘Beach’, ‘Fern’ – to suggest that these silk screens can create the vibrant and expressive patterns Cressida has been producing commercially since 1984. Yet, as she demonstrates when Inigo visits her, drawing ink across the screen with a squeegee, with each new screen and each new colour comes new complexity; the elements gradually coalescing into the dazzling final result.

Screen printing is a process that requires focus and precision – each new screen must line up with the previous one for the pattern to work – but there is also something charmingly imprecise about Cressida’s designs, which are equal parts Bauhaus and 

 (there is a connection here – she is a descendant of Clive and Vanessa Bell) in their combination of geometric rigour and expressive, hand-painted maximalism. Her enthusiasm – and innate skill – for print and pattern are reflected in the wide range of products and applications to which she currently turns her hand, from silk scarves and blouses, lampshades and furnishing fabrics to bespoke rugs and interior decoration. She is also a spectacular cake decorator – we would encourage anyone looking for a mind-expanding experience to visit the relevant section on her appropriately colourful website.

Below, Cressida explains how she has forged her own path as a textile designer, enduring passing trends and embracing new technology, and how her art-and-craft-filled upbringing has informed her work and life.

“There are certain patterns that hit a sweet spot; patterns that you know just work. It’s what I’m always striving for, but I certainly don’t always succeed.

“It’s what I love about Turkish textiles. They can be very simple – there’s a traditional Ottoman pattern called the ‘Cintamani’ that is, at its most basic, just three spots, sometimes with spots inside them, but these spots always have to be the right distance from one another. I’ve done my own version of the pattern, as have many other designers, but if you don’t get the proportions right it doesn’t work at all.

“I don’t see myself following in any particular tradition as a designer. I’m more likely to be looking at paintings or pottery than other textiles. A few years ago, I did a collection called “Sicilian Baroque” that was based on the architecture of Noto in Sicily, and when I went to India everything I liked there had stripes, so I created a collection inspired by that, with stripes going in every direction. I’m certainly not restricted by only looking at one discipline.

“You can never tell how a design will turn out when you’re just starting out. I work first in my sketchbooks, developing ideas on paper, working out how the patterns might repeat.

“In the past, I would then paint the design full-size to create a screen positive, but now I scan the drawings into my computer and play with them there. It saves me about three weeks’ work, getting the screens printed, but even though the design goes through a digital process, I try to preserve the impression you get when you draw by hand. It just has a different feel to it, seeing that human touch.

“It can be quite a technical challenge – surprisingly there can be a lot of maths involved. You have to make sure the designs fit together and can be repeated, and they need to be the right size for both the printing screen and the width of the fabric. There’s a lot more to it than people think!

“Because of my background, I grew up surrounded by arts and crafts. I’ve always been interested in making anything that could be worn and discovered my knack for textile design at art school. Initially, I decided that I wouldn’t tell anyone that I was related to Bloomsbury people – my father was Quentin Bell and my grandmother Vanessa Bell – but I’ve come to embrace it. I love the work they produced, I love Charleston, but I feel like my style is very different. It’s much more careful and less painterly.

“When I started out, there were very few designers like me, just doing pure pattern. At the time the design world was focused a lot on texture, and it then shifted to become very minimal, but it’s important to stay in your furrow, so to speak. I think design has become a lot more about maximalism. It shows that if you keep on with what you’re doing, it works out in the end.”

A Polite Request

A Lesson in Craft: the vibrant and playful patterns of designer Cressida Bell

Inigo visits the east London studio of a master of colour and form for a lesson in screen printing, textiles and the importance of the human touch