[Door opens, footsteps]
[Creak!] [THUD!]
[Jazzy music: 'The Russians Are Coming' - Val Bennett] [vaccum cleaner noise]
[Jazzy music: 'The Russians Are Coming' - Val Bennett] [TV static noise]
[Jazzy music: 'The Russians Are Coming' - Val Bennett] [Steam hisses]
[Jazzy music: 'The Russians Are Coming' - Val Bennett]
[sewing machine rattles]
[Jazzy music: 'The Russians Are Coming' - Val Bennett] [*Whoop!*]
[Jazzy music: 'The Russians Are Coming' - Val Bennett]
Tim: The sewing machine was really the first machine of any sort to enter the home.
When it first appeared in the 1850s, it was regarded as the miracle of its age.
To the people of the time, it must have seemed almost inconceivable
that a machine could do such a fiddly and complicated action as sewing.
That I find quite difficult enough with both hands, and a lot of concentration.
Personally I still find sewing machines quite magical.
How effortlessly they work, producing such perfect stitches
and without hardly ever tangling up.
To make a machine that directly imitated hand sewing would be very difficult.
The real secret of machine sewing has been to find a completely different sort of stitch
that's more suitable.
The first clues came from a sort of embroidery decoration
popular in the 18th century.
This used a hooked needle, and formed a so-called chain stitch.
The needle never needs to go right through the fabric
so it can be firmly fixed to part of a machine at the top
The first attempts at mechanical sewing imitated this embroidery stitch.
The first patent was granted to Thomas Saint,
an English cabinet maker, in 1790.
When a model was made from his drawings 100 years later
it had to be extensively modified before it would work.
So it's doubtful whether Saint ever actually built one.
[sawing]
The first person to build a sewing machine and put it to any practical use
was a French tailor called Thimonnier.
[hammering] Thimonnier: Ahh! Oh my thumb! Oh!
[planing]
Qu'est-ce que c'est?
After years of failure, he finally patented a machine in 1830.
[machinery noise] By 1841 he had 80 machines stitching clothing in a Paris factory.
[machinery noise] Bonjour, Bonjour...
Tailors: Oharrgh...
An angry crowd of tailors, fearing that the invention would rob them of their livelihood
then broke into the factory and destroyed the machines.
[muffled shouting] [smashing machinery]
Thimonnier was ruined, and eventually died pennyless.
This is a model of Thimonnier's machine, in the Science Museum.
Which exactly imitates the hand embrodery stitch.
We're having some trouble in, er, making it stitch
but, er, we had a go and made it do a few stitches...
[Bang....Bang....Bang...]
(It's working perfectly!) [Bang...]
Ahh... Rex: (Okay, that's better)
We haven't managed to make it stitch very neatly
But even if the machine was properly set up,
chain stitch still has the disadvantage that it's very easily pulled apart.
Unknown to Thimonnier , other inventors were experimenting with a different sort of stitch,
lock stitch, using two seperate reels of cotton.
The machines were more complicated, but the stitches they produced were neater.
And, er, they didn't pull apart so easily.
The secret of these machines was really the brilliant shape of the needle itself.
We've made a giant one here
and you can see the eye is in the pointed end of the needle
and it has a groove all the way up one side
that the thread can slip through.
Well, with the real needle, if I push it through a bit of, er, cotton
and pull it out again,
it automatically leaves a loop underneath.
And all the machine needs to form a stitch
is to pass the second reel of cotton through the loop.
The first lock-stitch machine was built in America by an inventor called Walter Hunt in about 1833.
It didn't work very well, so he lost interest, and didn't even bother to patent it.
Elias Howe patented an improved machine in 1845
and despite an initial lack of interest
this then acted as a catalyst to other American inventors
and within 10 years, all the major elements of a modern sewing machine had been introduced.
I'm going to try and demonstrate these with this human sewing machine
stitching together two sheets of expanded polystyrene [hideous polystyrene squeaking noises]
The needle goes through the material...
...the bottom bobbin is pushed through the loop...
...the needle comes out and the stitch is pulled tight... [squeaking]
...and the material is pulled forward. [squeaking]
[SQUEAKING!]
Every lock-stitch machine has these four movements. [squeaking]
Pushing through the needle, passing the loop round the bobbin
pulling the stitch tight, and moving the material forward.
The movements are all connected to the motor by a series of ingenious mechanical linkages.
First, the linkage to the needle itself.
This is often just a crank; the simplest way to get an up-and-down motion from a rotation.
Next the device that pulls the stitch tight.
This is basically an arm that flies up at the right moment
just as Ellie's was doing.
But Ellie also had to grip the thread with her other hand
to stop the thread being pulled from the reel instead of through the stitch.
So on a sewing machine, there's a sort of friction pully between the cotton reel and the arm.
It's getting the thread to pass cleanly through these two things before the needle
that always makes threading up a machine so elaborate.
The action of the arm itself is surprisingly simple
...just two levers fixed to the needle mechanism.
[click]
It's wonderful what a vast range of movements can be derived from simple cranks and levers.
These are some collecting boxes I made for the Science Museum.
They're actually portraits of people who work here.
The Idea was to show exactly what a donation would fund
so a pound makes them work for 10 times as long as 10p.
[coin rattles through mechanism]
This is the curator. He takes the pipe out of his mouth and scratches his head.
If you look inside, you can see the arm is a simple crank,
connected to a geared motor.
[electric motor whine]
Back to the sewing machine...
The next action is passing the thread loop rouind the bobbin.
This is what Ian was doing in the human sewing machine.
To me this is the most magical part,
how it manages to do it without tangling up.
On a real machine, instead of passing the bobbin through the loop,
the bobbin stays still, and a sort of rotating hook
pulls the loop so it's large enough to pass right over the bobbin.
With the bobbin back in place, all you can actually see is the red thread slipping round the outside.
The last movement, pulling the cloth forward for the next
stitch, is technically called a four-motion feed
because the loose metal bit moves forward, backward, down and up again.
It does this with these two off-centre rings on the driveshaft.
The one on the right pulls the claw backwards and forwards,
the other one makes it go up and down.
So both combined give the four motions.
This completes the basic mechanism; all four movements connected
to a single driveshaft.
Maggie: This is actually a toy, made in Germany, about 1893
it's called the Nuremberg Lady, or Nuremberg Princess.
It's patented.
The cotton goes in here, that's the bobbin...
...comes through a tensioning system...
...comes across here; the needle would have been held in her hand
...see, her head nods.
Although it is a toy, it has all the mechanical characteristics
of an ordinary sewing machine.
I've been collecting sewing machines for about 15 years.
...and about 3 years ago, a few of us got together and decided to form a society
to pass on information and share information, and find out what was going on.
And it is now an international sewing machine collectors' society (ISMCS)
And we have members all through the world: America, Australia, Hong Kong,
all throughout Europe. And I've just brought along one or two of my machines to show
the different types that are available. These, that comes from France, Germany - those are America
This is Glasgow, and this is from Coventry; an English-made machine.
And every one is slightly different, the way it developed.
Well, a very unusual machine is this little one here...
unlike the rest of the machines, this isn't painted or brightly coloured
it's nickel-plated, looking a bit like a giant stapler.
[loud mechanical clacking] It's a very nice noise, a bit like a puffer train.
Now there's absolutly no reason whatsoever why this machine should have hands
no reason apart from being pretty
why somebody should do it, I don't know.
Was made in Coventry by a man called Stardy, and his trademark
was Lady Godiva, on a horse.
The Lion: the beast.
Ahh, was made by a Glasgow company called Kimble & Walton,
about 1863ish. As a sewing machine it's quite ordinary; just a shuttle mechanism
it's just unusual because of its shape.
[mechanical rattling] Well this is a French machine.
[machine jams] It's called "La Populare".
And it's certainly a popular machine among collectors.
Although it's called... It works on an leverage(?) system, we always call it "the pusher"
[mechanical clanking]
And it is one of the very few to use this unusual push-start mechanism.
But we've seen all these very different looking; very complicated;
very simple mechanism machines.
But one of the simplest; one of the prettiest; one of the most popular
and probably, in my opinion, one of the best...
The Wilcox & Gibbs [solid mechanical clicking]
Tim: The early machines were all beautifully decorated.
I think this was because the sewing machine was the first machine to enter the home.
At the time, all other machines were industrial.
Lavish decoration was an attempt to make them look more domesticated.
At first, the different manufacturers' machines had very distinct characteristics.
But by the 20th century, they'd all started looking more and more alike.
This was partly due to the commercial dominance of one particular manufacturer.
[cat meows]
Woman: Oh John, I'm so discouraged - how can I ask anybody to this house the way the furniture looks?
John: Well, it is pretty awful.
But I don't suppose we could buy much with our money...
Woman: Not unless a miracle happened.
[Doorbell] Voiceover: Ah, there's the miracle! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! - Answer that doorbell!
That's the first time I ever saw a miracle in a two-pant(?) suit
But it's the Singer man! Hell send her to the nearest Singer sewing centre
and the miracle man turns her over to that miracle woman
- the sewing teacher to you. Just a few simple lessons on the sewing machine
and her house will be so attractive they'll probably sell it at a profit.
Now take a look at the finished room, with the rest of the girls she's invited over.
Woman2: You don't mean to tell me you made these curtains and seat covers yourself?
Martha: How did you ever make them so perfectly?
It's a grand colourscheme, they must have cost a pretty penny!
Woman: Only 18 dollars and 31 cents!
Martha: What? Say, I wish I could sew like that...
Woman: But you can Martha! Martha: What's that?
Woman: The address of the nearest Singer sewing centre, get it?
Woman2: Oh!
Tim: The company was founded by a man called Isaac Merritt Singer.
[spanner clanks on boiler]
Although Singer was trained as a mechanic, his real love was the theatre.
Homer: Julie, I've always loved ya, honey... can you ever forgive me? Julie: But this is so sudden! Oh Homer...
Tim: In 1839, he managed to sell a design for a mechanical excavator for $2000 [Indistinct: Singer explaining design]
Singer: ...connects to the bucket. It's beautiful! Man: Okay I'll buy it.
Tim: With the money, he set up his own theatre company, called the Merritt Players.
[rustling notes] Singer: I'm rich! I'm rich! Now I can start my theatre company!
Man: Stick em up! Julie: *gasps* No!
[indistinct shouting] Homer: See honey, I told ya I'd save ya!
Homer: Oooh, Julie! Julie: My hero!
[sparse clapping]
Tim: Singer's theatre company went bankrupt after a few years.
[bangs foot on machine] Tim: Then, in 1851, he came across an early, unreliable sewing machine.
Singer: I could do better than this!
[sawing, hammering, power tools, muffled swearing]
Singer: Yeah! (indistinct) Tim: He built his prototype in only 11 days, and then went into production.
Singer's machine wasn't particularly original, but he was brilliant at selling it.
Singer: Okay ladies and gentlemen, this machine sewing before your very eyes!
Woman: Here are your trousers Isaac. [massive applause and cheering]
[Trousers drop: *Voop!*]
Singer: Proves they're gonna work... Yup.
Tim: In partnership with a sober lawyer called Clark, he started the first ever hire-purchase scheme.
By 1867, Singer was a very rich man, with a total of 18 children from a variety of wives and mistresses. [*woomph* of flash powder]
Because the machines were being sold to respectable homes, Clark then persuaded Singer to leave the country.
Clark: It's a one-way ticket. Yer gotta leave town... Singer: Oh?
Tim: Singer eventually settled in Torquay, where he died in 1875, leaving a total of 24 children.
[woman sobs]
[funeral bell]
Tim: From the earliest days of the sewing machine, attempts were made to find a better way of powering it than just turning a handle.
In America, the treadle caught on immediately, because it was a great advantage to have both hands free to control the cloth.
But in Britain, it was regarded with great suspicion for many years.
It was generally thought to be unladylike, and rather harmful for the ankles.
[machine rattles]
Attempts were made to power the machines by waterwheels, giant clockwork motors and steam
but all were inconvenient.
The first electric machines appeared in the 1920s
At first the motor was a seperate lump, bolted on.
Only very gradually did it become integrated in the body of the machine.
The motor itself is connected by a drive belt
this belt used to be rubber, or leather.
But on modern machines, there's a synthetic, toothed belt
which has the big advantage that it doesn't slip.
Thye've now replaced belts, gears and chains on many machines, like photocopiers.
They're quieter, easier to set up, and don't need oiling.
Rex: A couple of years ago, I made this trick suitcase for a conjurer/clown, for a stage show
It does several tricks, 8 in all, but the relevant ones today are that it can walk offstage entriely at its own accord
...whereupon it can stop, and then it can fall over.
The drive mechanism is worked entirely on toothed belts
...I use em quite a bit. Two of the toothed belts act as caterpillar tracks
and the third one is the drive. I'll show you it working... [motor whirrs]
[sewing machine clicks]
There are limitations to the movements you can get out of simple cranks and levers
so a lot of sewing machines also use cams.
This machine's actually a cobblers' machine, used for sewing leather.
The cams can create a much wider range of movements
using irregularly shaped slots and discs like this one.
[mechanism clicks]
Just like craks and levers, these have all sorts of uses, and I quite often use them myself.
[mechanism clicks] [horse neighs] Man: Woah!
Tim: this is the warden in the Science Museum.
I made the warden with a simple crank at first, but then he just move his head..... evenly from side to side.
It didn't look at all realistic, it looked entirely mechanical.
then I swapped it for a cam, and that gave it a sort of jerky motion, and he actually looked as if he was looking around.
And looking down at his watch was the same.
Instead of a continuous down and up movement, it needed to be: down, pause and up.
So I used another cam.
This is a doctor I made, who writes out illegible prescriptions.
Cams can be used for really complicated movements.
[mechanism clicks rapidly]
Most modern sewing machines can do a wide variety of fancy stitches.
They look a lot more complicated, but there's only one basic extra movement
and that's moving the needle from side to side.
And by combining sideways needle movements with variable cloth-feed movements
all sorts of fancy stitches become possible.
Each stitch has a different cam.
If I change to a different stitch, the cam-follower moves, and you can see it moving to a different rhythm.
[sewing machine noises]
This is one of the latest electronic machines.
The idea behind it is really quite simple: instead of using cams to vary the needle and the cloth movements
it uses these devices, called stepper motors.
Each pulse of electricity I send it, makes it go round one step.
[motor steps]
And I can use it to move a lever in just the same way as a cam.
I'll try and imitate it over here, err...
[Stepper motor clicks] [Cam motor buzzes]
By programming a microprocessor to produce a rapid sequence of pulses
to control the stepper motor, the movements of the needle can be very accurately controlled.
I think you can see the stepper motor moving the needle in, er, this machine.
The stepper motor is fixed to a cog, which moves the needle in small steps.
[click-click-click]
This machine is a Pfaff. Today Singer has lost its market dominance
and German and Swiss manufactureres now produce the most advanced machines.
But I'm not convinced that all the electronics is really a good idea in the sewing machine.
However good the design, there's still an awful lot more to go wrong than in a basic machine.
And I'm not sure that all the fancy stitches are really worthwhile
- the service engineers that I've talked to say that a lot of people never use them.
With the old mechanical machines that used to last anything up to 100 years
the lack of obsolecence was quite a problem for the manufacturers.
Singer used to have a policy of breaking up any machines take in part-exchange
to reduce the supply of second-hand ones.
I suspect that all the complexity of the fancy stitches has added quite a convenient
degree of obsolecence.
But anyway, the golden age of the domestic sewing machine has already passed. [bell dings]
Woman: Make a garment that's a perfect fit, like the one you made for lady...
Tim: When it first appeared, there were no clothes shops anywhere.
Tim: You either made your own, Woman: Oh! That tickles!
Tim: or if rich enough, got a tailor to do it.
Tailor: It will be a couple of weeks, maam.
[sewing machine noise] Tim: Even a generation ago, most families made some of their own clothes.
Woman: *humming* ...Oh, yes, It's a dream!
Tim: But the sewing machine, as well as speeding up home sewing, also made the off-the-peg clothing industry economically successful.
Woman: Oh, yah. Oh yes. Tim: Home dressmaking is today just a minority hobby
and the home sewing machine has lost its central importance.
Woman: Hmm, a bit tight.
Tim: The old machines were built to last a lifetime.
despite my doubts about the latest ones, they have to some extent carried on this tradition.
And mechanically, they're still surprisingly well-made.
I think that to make the machines fast, quiet and reliable
they have to be quite heavy and rigid, and they also have to be very precisely made.
And it's really these qualities that make them such wonderfully satisfying machines.
[Jazzy music: 'Take 5' - Dave Brubeck]