Archive | June 2014

Spooning

I have just acquired four vintage Danish 830 silver spoons dating from the 1930s and 1940s for my Etsy shop. They all have maker’s marks, and I have identified three of the makers: Carl M Cohr, Christian Knudsen Hansen and W & S Sørensen, but the fourth, ‘H.V.J’, has so far eluded my attempts at identification.

Carl M Cohr 830 Danish silver spoon, 1935.

Chrstian Knudsen Hansen 830 silver spoon, 1939.

Christian Knudsen Hansen 830 Danish silver spoon, 1939.

W & S Sørensen 830 Danish silver spoon, 1940s. (NOW SOLD).

‘H.V.J’ 830 Danish silver spoon, 1940s.

The last spoon in particular made me think of the old joke:

Two posh ladies (think Dowager Duchess) are talking, back in the 1920s.

Posh lady 1: ‘I saw a shocking thing today. A young couple were spooning, in public. The disgrace of it. One didn’t know where to look.’

Posh lady 2: (peers over top of lorgnette) ‘Standards are dropping, my dear. But one should at least be grateful they weren’t forking.’

(Note for younger readers, for whom ‘spooning’ means ‘cuddling up in bed, with your tummy against your partner’s back’: in the early part of the last century, ‘spooning’ meant a very different thing. Those were far more innocent and sexually repressed days. ‘Spooning’ meant the same as ‘canoodling’ – making gooey eyes at each other, holding hands, and perhaps – only perhaps – a kiss on the cheek. A young couple would never be able to spoon as we know it, unless they were married. So that makes the payoff line of the joke even more shocking and risqué for its time.)

UPDATE November 2015: Slightly belated, but I thought I’d add that I now have a lot more Danish silver spoons in my Etsy shop, and more to come! I’m a bit obsessed at the moment …

The Crazy Dorset World of Arthur Brown

Jun14

Do you ever have those moments when you start poking about on the internet to find out one thing, and end up learning something completely different, and new, and unexpected? Chap and I had one of those moments the other day. It all started with a car advert on the telly (Toyota Auris Hybrid, fact fans). The music playing was ‘A Horse With No Name‘, written by Dewey Bunnell of the band America, and released in the UK and parts of Europe in late 1971, and in January 1972 in the US. I loved that song so much when it was released, and still do. I wanted to know more about it, and a quick google told me that although the band members were American, the song was written and demoed while they were staying at Arthur Brown‘s recording studio at Puddletown in Dorset.

What? What? Puddletown? Puddletown? Double take, re-read to check, then scratch head in incredulity at the incongruity: a song that is about as all-American as can be, and conjuring up a harsh, arid, desert world, was written in bucolic, lush, green and very English Dorset. Puddletown is a village 8 km to the east of Dorchester. It’s grown a lot with housing developments in recent years, but in the early 1970s was a small, out-of-the-way place.

At this point Chap (who lived in Dorchester for much of his youth) got very excited. He’d heard an urban legend that Arthur Brown (he of ‘Fire‘ and flaming headgear fame) had lived there, but had never had confirmation. More internet snooping was in order.

Details came. Arthur Brown and his Crazy World lived in a farmhouse in or near Puddletown, and had a recording studio there called Jabberwocky Studios. Various musicians pitched up and stayed, and as people came and went bands were formed and evolved into others, including Puddletown Express, Brown’s backing band. By 1970 Brown had left, and Puddletown Express developed into another short-lived band called Rustic Hinge and the Provincial Swimmers (May—August 1970). John Peel visited Jabberwocky Studios, to talk to Rustic Hinge about signing them to his record label. In August 1970 a BBC camera crew arrived, to film the farmhouse for a documentary on Tess of the d’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy—apparently the farmhouse was Hardy’s model for one in which Tess stayed. The programme was produced by documentary maker Michael Croucher. He was amused by the musical anarchy going on around him, and filmed a performance of ‘Lychee’ by Rustic Hinge for the programme.

But no name given for the farmhouse. Where was it? we wondered. Cue more googling. And then we hit paydirt: a thread on a board about Rustic Hinge. With the very footage of ‘Lychee’ shot by the BBC, with the house in the background.

And someone in the thread identified the farmhouse as Ilsington Farmhouse, near Tincleton. Here was another ‘what?!’ moment—we know Ilsington Farm as both Chap and I worked quite a few years ago in one of the offices in the converted farm outbuildings there: Terrain Archaeology’s headquarters. Small world!

Ilsington Farmhouse.

Tincleton is a small village about 2.5 km south of Puddletown, and Ilsington Farmhouse is a Grade II listed building dating from the 17th century. Yet more internet truffling and we learned that you too can rent the seven-bedroom farmhouse from a mere £2,000—£2,950 a week, and have a go at recreating those crazy days of 40 years ago. We also learned that Ilsington Farm has had a swallow hole incident (also known as a sink hole) a few years back. I’m fascinated by sink holes, so all this was too much excitement for one evening!

Caveat: a lot of the details here about Arthur Brown and his fellow musicians might well be wrong, as the various sites I’ve looked at seem to have accounts with conflicting details, chronology, etc. Considering the amount of drugs that were no doubt consumed back in the late 60s and early 70s there, it’s not surprising—I wonder that anyone could remember anything at all from back then in much detail!

September 2015 update: Nick Churchill has commented with a link to an article he wrote for Dorset Life in June this year, with masses of detail about the house and the recording studio – apparently Led Zeppelin recorded there too! Do give it a look – it’s a great read with fascinating information.

Favourite Etsy shops: The Litus Gallery

Jun12

There are some amazing artists and craftspeople on Etsy, and I wanted to write about some of my favourites. Top of the pile is The Litus Gallery.

I was so delighted when I found this shop: DD McInnes is an artist living near Canterbury in Kent, a self-professed fantabulist who paints the most whimsical, fantastical oil paintings, some of which are inspired by 17th, 18th and early 19th century paintings, and which have animals, including birds, invertebrates and insects taking the place of the human sitters. DD describes the paintings as ‘A unique collection of dream-like, darkly humorous paintings and prints of mythical beasts and metaphysical poets for the discerning Virtual Grand Tourist.’

‘The Tender Foils’ by DD McInnes.

‘Portrait of a Young Man’, by DD McInnes.

‘The Spectral Lovers’ by DD McInnes.

The paintings have such terrific titles as ‘The Contessa di Faraglione Arrives for the Evening Ball‘, and ‘The Morning Exercise, Newthorpe Park, May, 1768‘, and ‘La Passeggiata of the Lady Dowager, Siena, 1796‘, and ‘Mister Renard’s Dappled Gray, “Lightning Bolt”, with the Jockey Lamb, Up‘, and ‘Henry Lord Byfield, 1st Viscount of Framlington, Rides Out on His First Grand Tour, 1795‘, and ‘The Game of Quoits at Dunmow Lacey, Afternoon, 1814‘, and ‘A Table at Mrs. Goatsby’s Coffee-House, Berwick St. London, 1767‘. I’m not sure whether all of these are based on original paintings and their titles, or are the product of DD’s fevered imagination, but I have had fun trying to find out. (I could just ask DD, but where’s the challenge in that?)

A couple of them I recognise:

‘The Yuletide Handsel’ by DD McInnes

‘The Reverend Robert Walker Skating on Duddingston Loch’, better known by its shorter title ‘The Skating Minister’, by Sir Henry Raeburn, 1790s.

‘The Swing’ by DD McInnes.

‘The Swing’ by Nicolas Lancret, 1730-35.

and DD mentions the inspiration in the title of a few more:

‘The Eight Lives of Mr. Tybalt (after Nicolaes Eliaszoon’s “Portrait of Nicolaes Tulp”, 1633)’ by DD McInnes.

‘Nicolaes Tulp’ by Nicolaes Eliaszoon Pickenoy.

‘On the Way Home (After William Blake’s Engraving “The Traveller hasteth in the Evening,” 1793)’ by DD McInnes.

‘The Traveller hasteth in the Evening 14 Publishd 17 May 1793 by WBlake Lambeth’
Engraving from ‘For Children. The Gates of Paradise’, by William Blake.

‘The Turnip Spinner (After Chardin’s, “Gabriel Godefroy watching a top spin”, c.1735’, by DD McInnes.

‘Portrait of Auguste Gabriel Godefroy’ by Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin.

‘I Want, I Want (after William Blake)’ by DD McInnes.

'I want! I want!' Plate 9, For the Sexes: The Gates of Paradise, by William Blake.

‘I want! I want!’, a plate in ‘For Children: The Gates of Paradise’, by William Blake.

And if you want yet more whimsy, read the shop’s ‘About’ page. I love it!

I don’t know DD’s gender, but I’m guessing DD’s a ‘he’ as the phrase ‘grizzled painter’ is used. Mind you, as DD says the oil paints used are delivered by packs of dromedaries across the marshes of Kent, maybe I should take absolutely everything with a pinch of salt …

DD sells the original oil paintings, plus fine art prints of some of the paintings and lovely notecards too, in the Litus Gallery shop on Etsy. It’s well worth a visit, and I guarantee you’ll come away smiling.

(Sadly necessary disclaimer: I’m writing about shops that grab my fancy and fire my imagination. I’m not being paid or otherwise rewarded to do this—just spreading the love!)

Filming locations: Mompesson House

Jun11

Mompesson House. Photo by Tony Hisgett.

Mompesson House is a beautiful Queen Anne house, completed in 1701 and owned by the National Trust. It is located in the glorious Cathedral Close in Salisbury. It is the sort of house I can imagine living in: not too impossibly grand and high-ceilinged and museum-like, with cosy rooms full of interesting and lovely things, and with a pretty walled garden at the back. And of course, that view of the Cathedral to the front! It houses a fantastic collection of 18th century drinking glasses.

Salisbury Cathedral viewed from the front gate of Mompesson House, 11 June 2014. Peregrines nesting on the spire just out of shot!

In the summer of 1995 I was working on an archaeological project in the storerooms of Salisbury and South Wiltshire Museum, which is also situated in the Cathedral Close. If the weather was good I would eat my lunch sitting out on the Close, enjoying the fabulous surroundings and watching the world go by. One lunchtime I noticed a gaggle of people and equipment outside Mompesson House, and so wandered over. Some sort of filming was in progress, but I didn’t know for what. Lots of people were sitting on the grass and watching the goings-on, so I plonked myself down among them. We were very close to the filming set-up, and I was pleasantly surprised that we were allowed to be so close and were not asked to move back. There were lights and reflectors and cameras and cables and endless crew busying around.

Mompesson House. I was sitting a little to the left of where this photo was taken from. Photo by Derek Voller.

Mompesson House. Photo by Derek Voller.

And then as I munched on my lunch, filming started, and Alan Rickman rides up to the house and dismounts. Alan Rickman. In breeches. My sandwich hung half way to my mouth, and my mouth hung open. Alan Rickman. Alan Bloody Rickman. In breeches. Right in front of me. There were other scenes filmed too, with a carriage, but all I could think of was Alan Rickman. In breeches. Right in front of me.

Needless to say, I took a rather longer than usual lunch break and didn’t concentrate too well on my work that afternoon.

I asked around and it turned out that I had witnessed some of the filming for the Ang Lee version of Sense and Sensibility, with Alan Rickman playing Colonel Brandon, and Mompesson House standing in for Mrs Jennings’ London townhouse.

I can’t find any online photos of Alan Rickman in this scene. In 1995 not many (if any?) mobile phones had cameras—in this day and age everybody would be snapping away like crazy. I must rewatch the film and get a screengrab.

Alan Rickman during filming of Sense and Sensibility (not at Mompesson House, from the looks of it).

Alan Rickman as Colonel Brandon in Sense and Sensibility (not at Mompesson House: this scene was filmed at Trafalgar House near Salisbury, standing in for Barton Park, Sir John Middleton’s estate).

Alan Rickman as Colonel Brandon in sense and Sensibility. Again, not photographed at Mompesson House.

Alan Rickman in Sense and Sensibility. Again, not photographed at Mompesson House: this scene was at the Dashwood’s cottage in Devon, actually a house on the Flete Estate in Devon.

Alan Rickman and emma Thompson in Sense and Sensibility. Mompesson House in the background. I didn't see this scene being filmed.

Alan Rickman and Emma Thompson as Elinor Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility. Mompesson House in the background. I didn’t see this scene being filmed. I was probably back in the storeroom, having a fit of the vapours.

I was in Salisbury today so snapped the photo above of the view of the Cathedral from the front of Mompesson House. I wandered over to see if I could see the peregrines—I asked a stonemason working on the east front and he said the nest was on the south face of the spire. I stood by the cloisters entrance and watched for ten minutes or so, but didn’t see anything. I could certainly hear one though, squawking away on the spire. So exciting!

Update 10 August 2014: I’ve just watched the film again and the scene is a blink and you’ll miss it one: it’s when Colonel Brandon is leaving Mrs Jennings’ townhouse to take the Dashwood girls back to Devon: he’s on horseback accompanying their carriage:

Colonel Brandon leaving Mrs Jennings' house with the Dashwoods. The scene I watched being filmed.

Colonel Brandon on horseback leaving Mrs Jennings’ house with the Dashwoods in the coach. The scene I watched being filmed outside Mompesson House.

A mess of pottage

Jun9

For Sunday lunch yesterday we had a roast chicken (most unusual for us to have a Sunday roast—that happens about twice a year), and in the evening I stripped the carcass and made a stock with the bones and skin and the onion that I had stuffed into the bird’s cavity.

Not a chicken: a house at the Weald and Downland Open Air Museum.

Today I was looking in the fridge, thinking about what kind of leftovers supper I could make, and suddenly I had a brainwave—pottage! A few years ago Chap and I visited the Weald and Downland Open Air Museum, and in the Tudor kitchen there we watched a lady cooking pottage on an open fire, using just leeks, carrots, pearl barley and stock. She gave us some to try, and it was scrummy—a pleasant surprise as it looked none too appetising. This morning I realised we had the makings of the pottage we had tried: some nice leeks and some rather sad-looking carrots in the vegetable drawer, a packet of pearl barley, the chicken stock and a small jugful of leftover gravy from yesterday’s chicken. Hurrah!

I had a quick google around for pointers, and came across this video recipe—filmed in the very same kitchen at the Museum.

The video recipe has onions, leeks, parsnips, spinach, oats and herbs, and no carrots or pearl barley, but I gather that a pottage was a thick vegetabley stew using up whatever grain or pulse was to hand and whatever fresh produce was in season: no refrigerators or imported fresh foodstuffs in those days. Anything goes seemed to be the rule of the day.

So I winged it. Here’s how I made it:

Slice two leeks and four carrots, and sweat in a dollop of butter in a big saucepan over a medium heat. Season with salt and freshly-ground black pepper to taste, then add 100g (3.5 oz) of pearl barley. Stir around, then add the stock (I had about a litre of stock, I think, and I also added about 0.25 litre of leftover gravy (made with the chicken juices from the roasting pan, a tiny bit of cornflour, and water).

Pottage ingredients (from top to bottom): fresh homemade chicken stock, leftover homemade gravy, carrots, leeks, pearl barley.

Sweating the leeks and carrots in butter, with salt and freshly-ground black pepper.

Bring to the boil, cover and simmer for about an hour to an hour and a quarter (75 minutes), until the pearl barley is soft and has absorbed a lot of the liquid. Serve with crusty bread.

Supper, medieval stylee.

This recipe could easily be made into a vegetarian one by substituting vegetable stock for the chicken stock (and missing out the chicken gravy). As all the ingredients are pretty bland, flavour-wise, it stands or falls according to the quality (tastiness) of your stock.

Weald and Downland Open Air Museum website link.

Making space for nature: peregrine falcons at Salisbury Cathedral

Jun9

Here’s a story that warmed the cockles of my heart: peregrine falcons have successfully nested for the first time in 61 years at Salisbury Cathedral, in a nest box placed half way up the spire. The breeding pair have produced three chicks, and even better: there’s a webcam on which you can watch their progress.

Peregrine falcon and chicks on Salisbury Cathedral spire, 2014.

The 800-year-old Salisbury Cathedral is truly stunning. Its spire is the tallest in the UK, standing at 123 metres (404 feet) high. In 1995 I was very lucky to work on an archaeological project in the storerooms of Salisbury and South Wiltshire Museum, opposite the magnificent west front of the Cathedral. At the time the west front and spire were being restored and I would watch the tiny ant-like stonemasons way up on the scaffolding, and admire their skill and nerve. It’s wonderful to think that peregrines are now flying around that same spire. Lovely news (perhaps not so lovely for the pigeons, mind …)

Salisbury Cathedral, showing the spire and the West front. Photo by Hugh Chevallier, June 2013.

I can heartily endorse the wise words of Gary Price, the clerk of works at the Cathedral: “I feel privileged to have played a small part in securing the peregrines’ presence here at Salisbury Cathedral for many years to come. It’s reassuring to know that a few small steps by various people can make all the difference to the local wildlife.”

This is such exciting news, and next time I go shopping in Salisbury I’m going to sit in the Cathedral Close until I see a peregrine. 🙂

Salisbury Cathedral website link.

She sells sea shells

Jun9

I love learning new things. I had a prospective customer contact me recently about an Art Deco abalone and mother of pearl brooch for sale in my Etsy shop. She mentioned it would pair nicely with her maireener necklaces in the same colours. I’d never come across the word maireener before, so scurried off to google for a quick search, and learned it is a type of sea shell found only in Australia, is also known as the rainbow kelp shell, and has been used by Tasmanian Aboriginal peoples in their jewellery for millennia. Aunty Dulcie Greeno is an Aboriginal woman living in Launceston in Tasmania, and she continues the tradition, making beautiful necklaces which she sells. She travels twice a year to the Furneaux Islands, where she was born, to collect the shells.

A maireener (rainbow kelp shell) necklace by Aunt Dulcie.

A maireener (rainbow kelp shell) necklace by Aunty Dulcie Greeno. Simply gorgeous!

I find shell jewellery so attractive, and I’m guessing other people do too as it accounts for a good proportion of my sales so far. I have already sold a stunning Arts and Crafts abalone brooch attributed to Scottish jeweller Mary Thew, and a small abalone and silver brooch with a triangular motif. I have a couple more still for sale—my favourite of all my pieces is an Art Nouveau abalone and silver brooch, and I also have the funky Art Deco brooch mentioned above, and a Mexican abalone and silver pendant and chain.

There’s something about the iridescent peacock colours of abalone I find absolutely irresistible—the opals of the sea! Or as my prospective customer so eloquently put it: ‘Excellent elegant mermaid wear’.

Arts and Crafts abalone and silver brooch, attributed to Scottish jeweller Mary Thew (NOW SOLD).

Detail of the abalone plaque

Silver and abalone brooch (NOW SOLD).

Stunning Art Nouveau abalone and silver brooch, for sale at Inglenookery. (NOW SOLD).

Art Deco abalone and mother of pearl brooch, for sale at Inglenookery. (NOW SOLD).

Vintage Mexican sterling silver and abalone pendant and chain, for sale at Inglenookery. (NOW SOLD).

Orange!

Jun8

In an earlier post I mentioned that orange is my favourite colour. I love colour—the brighter the better, and for me, orange is the best of all. It’s sunshine and happiness in a colour. It’s hard to be grumpy when there’s orange around.

Orange in my garden (and a couple of others):

Meconopsis cambrica (orange Welsh poppy) in our garden. It’s a lot more orangey and less yellowy in real life than this photo suggests – a sort of pale tangerine colour.

Lathyrus aureus, This one's my baby - I grew it from seed.

Lathyrus aureus, a low-growing perennial member of the pea family. This one’s my special baby – I grew it from seed.

Buddleja globosa in our garden. This flowers earlier than the common buddleja (B. davidii) and it’s so unusual: lovely globby, bobbly flowers.

Buddleja globosa. This flowers earlier than the common buddleja (B. davidii) and it's so unusual: lovely globby flowers. And they just had to go in an orange jug!

And they just had to go in an orange jug!

Clivia miniata. I put these out for the summer but they have to come inside for the winter before the first frosts. They need to be in a shady spot as the sun can burn their leaves badly. The seed pods are so pretty too, and clivias are easy to grow from seed.

Crocosmia × crocosmiiflora ‘Star of the East’ with a few orange Tropaeolum majus (nasturtiums) in a garden I designed in Berkshire.

Erysimum (wallflowers) and lily-flowered tulips (possibly Tulipa ‘Ballerina’) at Lytes Cary in Somerset, a wonderful National Trust property.

And recently I realised I’d been buying an awful lot of orange and reddy-orange things for my shop on Etsy:

Baltic amber and 800 silver ring by Wilhelm Becker of Pforzheim, Germany. (NOW SOLD).

Baltic amber and sterling silver ring, by Niels Erik From of Denmark. (NOW SOLD).

Art Nouveau style Baltic amber and silver ring. (NOW SOLD).

Art Deco carnelian and silver lavalier necklace. (NOW SOLD).

Vintage carnelian agate big bead necklace. (NOW SOLD).

Vintage Art Deco carnelian glass lavalier necklace. (NOW SOLD).

Art Deco glass necklace, probably Czech glass. (NOW SOLD).

Victorian banded agate brooch. (NOW SOLD).

Vintage faux amber and 830 silver flower brooch, possibly Danish. (NOW SOLD).

So then I had to go on a blues and greens and purples and pinks buying spree—such hardship!

Making space for nature: swallows

Jun6

Recently Chap and I were at the Dorchester Curiosity Centre, a favourite spot for rootling about among antiques and bric a brac, looking for treasures. It’s on an old industrial estate in a series of interlinking hangar-like rooms. One of the areas has high sliding doors to the outside and is used for furniture storage rather than display—and what drew us in there was the twittering of swallows. As we were admiring them as they flew in and out through the open doors, the owner (?) of the centre came by and chatted with us about how they come every year and nest in the eaves and holes in the gable end of the wall, and how he had hung up some protective sheets overhead to keep the droppings from landing on the furniture (and punters). He mentioned that some customers had said he should shoo them away and prevent them from nesting. We were so glad he chose to ignore those people—swallows are such a delight and their nesting spots are increasingly under threat. And they will certainly draw us back there!

Swallows (image from Richard Crossley - The Crossley ID Guide Britain and Ireland)

Swallows (image from The Crossley ID Guide Britain and Ireland, by Richard Crossley).

Our village church has a Swallow Mess Committee (I don’t think they call themselves that …) as swallows nest every year in the porch. The members of the SMC duly clear up after them. I think they might even have a rota for oomska duty.

Swallow chicks in their nest (and oomska). Photo by User:Wsiegmund on Wikimedia.

Another church I know has an umbrella hanging upside-down below the nest in the porch to catch the mess. We are so grateful that people go to this kind of trouble for our feathered friends: an English summer wouldn’t be the same without them. Chap and I keep a nature diary and every year we note the date of various spring ‘firsts’—first brimstone, first bat, first clump of frogspawn in our pond, first hedgehog poo on the lawn—but the first swallow is the one that means the most.

One of my favourite mugs, by Emma Bridgwater (Photo off eBay)

One of my favourite mugs is a swallow one by Emma Bridgwater. I was going to link to it in her shop but it looks like the company doesn’t make that design any more. I shall have to be doubly careful of mine, in that case. And of our great bustard one: that’s a special one and I’ll squeeze a blog post out of it at some point …

Sam Hart Ceramics

Jun6

My lovely and very talented friend Sam makes the most amazing pottery teapots and pots and other wonderful things out of slab clay. I am so in admiration of her skill (I speak as someone incapable of making even the most basic coil pots, let alone anything technical) and her artistry. Her teapots are fun and funky and always make me smile when I see them. They’re stylish and quirky, much like their maker! I love that she uses bright colours as well—her glazes include zingy yellows and lime greens and juicy oranges.

A few years ago she so kindly gave me this little beauty (she knows orange is my favourite colour): aDSCF2153

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and even the feet are fun:

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Sam’s industrial spaceage teapots are fab, with rivets and straps and bolts fashioned out of clay, and decorated with glazed lightning bolts and flames and stars.

Sam sells her pottery online, and her Etsy shop is well worth a visit. Her pots make the most fantastic and unique presents. I heart Sam Hart!