Beneath every history, another history

Maurice Elvey’s index cards

When I was writing my PhD thesis, which considered the early career of British filmmaker Maurice Elvey, I put together boxes and boxes of index cards which told me what Mr Elvey did and where he was on an almost daily basis between 1905 and 1929. These cards proved invaluable when I was working out film production schedules. I was particularly proud of piecing together a timeline for 1918 that set out the production schedules for the two major films Elvey made in 1918 - biographical pictures about Nelson and Lloyd George - alongside the political events of that year. The timeline illustrated how realpolitik, the ending of the Great War, and the subsequent British General Election had significant impacts on the making of these two films.

The index cards and the timeline were such useful research tools that I now use them regularly for large scale textile projects. I turned to index cards when making the first Wolf Hall Quilt in 2020, recording my prompts for images, design, colours and text. And I currently have more index cards on the go.

Thomas Cromwell’s index cards

A few posts ago I wrote about a BBC programme that included an interpretation of the Bayeux Tapestry as comic strip. This ignited a spark in my brain about my next piece of Cromwell stitchery: a narrative piece illustrating the chronology of Hilary Mantel’s trilogy.

I’ve been working on this new piece - and its associated research tools - for the last month or so. I had some doubts to begin with; the first section seemed a little tentative and subsequent sections didn’t seem to be coming together, but on Christmas Eve I was in my studio, and suddenly the first three panels illustrating Across the Narrow Sea started to work together. Now they are joined by stitch, and I am starting to get a sense of the direction of the piece a a whole. And I am also starting to get a sense that that, once again, I am working on something that will be challenging to handle, impossible to photograph, and difficult to store…

But construction, photography, and storage are the least of the challenges. Hilary Mantel’s trilogy is not written in chronological order. Games are played with time and memory - we might think we are starting the tale in 1500, but when we get to The Mirror and the Light, shadows of events prior to 1500 take on greater significance.

So how to plan? How to stitch? Do I work in the order of the trilogy and join panels together at the end? I did this with the first Wolf Hall Quilt and still have awful memories of the final day I spent on it, wrestling 46 feet of textile work together. Or do I try to work out the exact sequence of events and produce work in chronological order, joining as I go? What if I miss something that I later decide to include and have to deal with the subsequent unpicking and rejoining? Perhaps I could produce panels as and when images come to me - the Cardinal kneeling in the mud? Cromwell’s orange coat? As long as I keep detailed records, this might be a workable approach.

So I have embarked upon a new set of index cards. And a new table that sets out references to Cromwell’s place in the historical record from 1485 - 1540. With a column in different colours that can be cross referenced to the events of Trilogy. Which means that I can see at a glance that a passing reference to Garigliano in Part Three of Wolf Hall (Three-Card Trick) refers to the Battle of Garigliano which took place exactly 520 years ago - on 29 December 1503.

In my studio

I haven’t had much studio time of late, but I’m entering into the quiet period for my other job, which means I am about to have the opportunity for three months of fairly intense creative work - and that is very exciting. My Cromwell Narrative Cloth should be progressing - and I will be keeping my records up to date to help me tackle the chronology issues.

What caught my eye?

A quince tree. A larger than expected quince tree.

I decided to try growing quinces - a very Tudor fruit - and ordered a bare root tree online. When it arrived it was rather larger than I had anticipated, so the pot I had intended for it was too small. Some improvisation later, and my larger-than-anticipated quince tree is potted. Apparently quince trees like full sun, and this wall gets a lot of sun when the weather is good. Now the only challenge is to keep the visiting foxes off it - but the size and location might prevent them trampling this particular plant. Time will tell.