Author Archives: Patricia

Grinling Gibbons – Master Woodcarver

Grinling Gibbons is probably the most skilled and most creative wood carver there has ever been. Stand in front of any of his pieces and marvel at the intricacy of the designs and the supreme skill in cutting into pale, almost white, limewood to create wonderful images in 3-D. This amazing wood carving is now in the Pitti Palace in Florence. It was made to celebrate the friendship between King Charles II of England and Cosimo III of the Medici family. The fact that it is still in existence is quite something as first it had to withstand the sea journey to the port of Livorna to get to Italy initially, then the flooding of Florence in 1966 and finally a fire at the Pitti Palace in 1984. It has recently been restored and is now exhibited in its glorious light colour contrasting with the darker background as shown here.

Two turtle doves, their beaks ‘kissing’, indicate the friendship between the two great men. The birds are surrounded by carved foliage, flowers and fruit.

Below the birds is the most delicate and intricate lace jabot. Without knowing that this was carved into wood, it could easily be thought of as real. Note the ring of roses just above this.

There are representations of the arts with one of them shown here – a goose feather (not yet made into a quill). Others include a paint palette and brushes, and a laurel wreath. Note, though, the carving of Grinling Gibbons’ name into the scroll at the bottom of the feather, and to the right beads, curling foliage, shells and bunch of grapes with the tendrils so delicately carved.

There are musical instruments, trumpets and what look like recorders as seen here, and even a musical score, the five staves, lines and notes clearly visible. Just above this is a medallion suspended from a chain with each link delicately carved. This sits on top of a quiver of arrows. And that in turn leads to a coronet, showing pearls and gems in exquisite detail.

Another coronet is at the bottom of the quiver, and this leads the eye to an amazing cornucopia of flowers and fruit – the sign of a true master.

Imagine Cosimo’s delight when on 16th December 1682 this package arrived and was unwrapped before him. Now who wouldn’t want to receive a Christmas present like this?

Bede and the Theory of Everything

Many will have heard of the Venerable Bede (673–735) and appreciate that, to have been given that title, he must have been rather special and probably really clever. This new book by Michelle Brown explains exactly that – and more besides. Bede was clearly a most remarkable man whose intellect and reasoning was way beyond most, if not all, of his contemporaries and which still has an impact on us today.

Of course, any book by Michelle Brown is worth reading! Her knowledge in particular of this period is extensive and deep, but she wears her expertise lightly, and her writing is clear and most user-friendly. She considers Bede from a number of different aspects both the man and his work, and there are chapters about him as a monk and priest, as an historian and reformer, concerning the origins of written poetry, as a scholar and scientist, his influence on the Ceolfrith Bibles, Lindisfarne and the Lindisfarne Gospels and much more.

The three Ceolfrith Bibles, commissioned by the abbott himself, are particularly interesting and Michelle considers the text in detail and the ways in which it was influenced by Bede’s thought and writing. Two of the bibles stayed in England, one for the monastery at Jarrow and one for Monkwearmouth, but the book that became the Codex Amiatinus was taken to Italy to present to the pope. The cover of Michelle’s book shows this image of Ezra from Amiatinus, shown here. Ezra, from the Old testament, was a scribe and priest and is shown, of course, writing. The image of the scribe, with his feet resting on a footstool, an open book, and the slightly weird angle of the bench that he is sitting on is almost the same as the Matthew image in the Lindisfarne Gospels. What is sometimes missed at first glance are the instruments of making the book in the foreground. There are compasses which indicate the distances of the lines and the width of the text block, what looks like a stylus or dull point to draw the lines, and two ink sacks, probably pig’s bladders. In front of Ezra is another weirdly angled table with his inks, a well for red and a well for black.

Excitingly, though, the use of Greek letters to mark passages of note in the Codex Amiatinus (see more about this book here), Michelle suggests could actually be the hand of the great man. Bede knew Greek and was using a system of Greek letters, applied here, in an innovative way. Michelle goes further than that in suggesting that one of the seven different scribes who wrote the huge book, a pandect containing in one volume all the books of the bible, was Bede.

Her book also dispels one of the common myths that all people at this time thought that the world was flat. Bede worked out that in fact the variations in the length of shadows cast on sundials and the changes in the length of daylight hours according to latitude indicated that in fact the earth was a sphere.

The date of Easter had long been a thorny problem at this time as the calculation depended on either the ‘Nicene ruling’ or the Johannine belief. Easter was the most important date to be marked in the Christian calendar, and at a time when missionaries were still on the frontline converting non-believers it must have seemed incongruous that one sector celebrated Easter at one time and others were at that same date still observing Lent and marked Easter on a different day. This matter was considered at the Synod of Whitby in 664 at which Wilfrid promoted the Roman dating system and Colman the Ionan. Because the Roman system was based on the city where St Peter established the Christian church, being ‘the rock’ on which is was to be built, and, in addition held the keys to heaven, it was decided to adhere to the Roman dating. But Bede’s studies went further than this and he devised a system whereby the date of Easter could be accurately calculated in perpetuity.

In her extensive studies of this great man, Michelle Brown has identified a number of ‘firsts’. It is possible that the red interlinear gloss for the book of John in the Lindisfarne Gospels, written by Aldred who describes himself as ‘a miserable priest’, is in fact the translation of this gospel into English by Bede himself, in which case it would be the earliest translation of any part of the bible into the vernacular.

Cod Am

Bede was clearly a most remarkable man, perhaps the cleverest man there has ever been with his range of interests and the work he produced. This book brings together the many intriguing strands of the man, his huge intellect and the ways in which he influenced thought at the time and how that still applies today, as well as his extensive interests. It is the most fascinating and illuminating read, incredibly informative and detailed, and is very highly recommended.

St Enodoc Church, Cornwall

Finding St Enodoc Church, Trebetherick, North Cornwall, is not straightforward – but well worth the effort! Walking from Polzeath or from the carpark at Daymer Bay (much nearer!) a small signpost, which is almost hidden, indicates a narrow winding path, shaded and almost overgrown by trees. This leads out to the open spaces of the Church course of St Enodoc Golf Course with views down to the sea and the River Camel estuary. The path turns and continues up a slight hill to the church gate.

The arched stone lych gate is a fitting forerunner of the main building, with a central ‘bench’, ready to act as a rest for a coffin (and perhaps pall bearers), before it’s taken into the church for a funeral.

The word ‘lych’ comes from the Anglo-Saxon/German word ‘lich’ or ‘leiche’ which is the word for ‘corpse’.

Although the church is thought to date from the twelfth century, a twentieth-century addition is proof that the the building is still in use. The Poet Laureate, Sir John Betjeman, is buried here, St Enodoc being a church that he frequented when he was in Cornwall. In fact he wrote a poem about it – ‘Sunday Afternoon Service at St Enodoc’. The Gothic Textura lettering is surrounded by an exuberance of flourishes by the letter cutter Simon Verity. It really is a tour-de-force!

But this isn’t the only flamboyant tombstone in the churchyard. This nineteenth century gravestone for John Randall has just about every typeface ever designed on it! It is not easy to make out due to the wear and tear but it is a marvel of creativity and skill.

Here’s an enlargement of the top of the tombstone where the double lines and enhanced 3-D effect on the name can just be made out.

It is thought that St Enodoc (or Guenedoc) was Welsh and that there was some sort of wooden church at this point from the third century. Sand dunes move and indeed this church was buried for some three hundred years until it was restored in the nineteenth century. It is said that services continued to be held during this time, and that the vicar and congregation were lowered in to the church by a skylight in the roof! Here it is very clear how easily the church may have been covered by sand; the back and side wall round the corner are almost buried.

The church can be seen from a distance due to the rather stumpy spire which is decidedly crooked as shown here!

The oldest remaining tombstone of 1687 to a father and daughter, who sadly died within a week of one another, is propped in the porch. The figures in relief can just about be identified.

And to the left is a celtic cross, the carving of a cross is faint but can be seen. The shaft is rather slender and looks a little too fragile to support the large circular top. It was found during the nineteenth century restoration and renovations to the church.

Once inside the church there is the magnificent stone font, made of granite and dating from the twelfth century. There is twisted cable mounting on the support of the bowl, and the bowl itself is lined in lead.

The inside of the church is simple, as would be expected, with wooden pews and the fourteenth century addition of a south aisle. There are remnants of a wooden carved fifteenth century rood screen.

Windows are narrow, with wide embrasures, letting in as much light as possible. Note the irregular stones on the windowsill.

This window has a plaster surround and is not decorated with horizontal stones as above.

On that windowsill and elsewhere in the church are stone querns used for grinding grain. The inside of them has been worn smooth over the years.

St Enodoc Church is a lovely place to visit if in the area. Its setting is peaceful and tranquil, with the silence broken only by bird song.

The British Library One Day Illumination Masterclass Course

It can be quite daunting signing up for a course which for many involves completely new techniques and tools. Most people haven’t picked up a paintbrush or dealt with paint since schooldays, and the thought of painting a mediæval miniature may be very tempting, but what if everyone else on the course is a trained artist? The British Library one-day Illumination Masterclass course is geared to allay all fears (at least most of them!). Much of painting in the style of mediæval miniatures is technique, and this is what I teach. These are the results of the course held in August 2023.

Everything is provided for each participant, no-one has to bring anything. It takes quite some time to prepare everything beforehand, and also a considerable time to set up for the course on the day. Here are the wet and dry boxes (those on my courses will know all about these!).

Each participant has their own work station set up on individual tables so that there is lots of space and everything they need is to hand. This is set up for a right-hander.

To allay any fears about not being creative, to avoid too complex an image for one day, and to use the time as effectively as possible, bestiary animals from manuscripts held at the British Library are chosen, and even these are selected to be ones that aren’t too complicated. Tracings are made which are transferred to treated vellum. The outlines are then reinforced with paint as here.

Instructions are given on dealing with gouache paint, using brushes, and how to paint using fine sable brushes. Here the pigment is being tested with a mixing brush to ensure that the very dilute consistency to paint the outline is correct, and also that the brush is held at the right angle to make the very fine strokes.

Then a modern adhesive is applied. There is not enough time in one day to use traditional gesso which raises the gold from the surface so that it shines brightly, and also creates a smooth surface to achieve a brilliant burnish. Anything other than gesso won’t have the effect of gold as in manuscripts, but it can still be stunning! Here the adhesive has been applied.

Next it’s GOLD. Despite not using gesso it’s always exciting to achieve that brilliance of metal with real gold leaf shining in the light. Areas not being worked on are masked as here.

Agate dog tooth burnishers are used to apply the gold.

And the effects are rather wonderful!

And again here:

Finally the paint is applied to create a wonderful mediæval miniature.

Comments from participants on this course:

Fantastic! Well structured and most enjoyable.

Such an enjoyable day, it’s amazing what can be done in a day due very much to the preparation and expertise Patricia brings.

Wonderful day and a very good and welcoming tutor.

Fascinating stuff!

Patricia is a great and supportive instructor. I look forward to taking more classes with her.

Humour, even steady pace, clear instruction, perfect level of detail, and fantastic tuition.

Most enjoyable and informative. Never thought I would produce such illumination in such a short time.

Very well pitched (in my view) to meet the requirements of novices and more experienced participants from a range of backgrounds. Loved the technical information.

Really enjoyed it! It was especially detailed with supplementary information which I liked.

It was very well planned and instruction and teaching were well summed up and delivered. I am going to return and learn more. Thank you Patricia.

It was very interesting and informative; I thoroughly enjoyed the day!

Well organised course. We didn’t bring anything to the course, which is great, everything is provided. Big thank you to Patricia.

(The only negative comments were to do with the arrangement of tables and movement round the room, which we realised as soon as the participants came in, and will be resolved for future courses, and the lighting in the room; it is suggested that if this is a potential problem, then participants may like to bring an illuminated magnifying glass with them.)

The Sforza Hours

Imagine how Sir John Robinson from the Victoria and Albert Museum must have felt in 1871. He was in Madrid looking for manuscripts, and had heard of a ‘wonderful Illuminated manuscript.’ A priest was selling it and a price agreed. He put the peseta equivalent of £800 (£66,000 now) into the inside pocket of his brown cloak. Somehow or other though the money was stolen, which was clearly a disaster! However, he found another £800 and managed to secure the manuscript.

This is a page from the book painted by Giovan Pietro Birago showing the penitence of King David. It depicts the king transported to a Renaissance Italian town, and detail that is so typical of this artist. Note particularly the lively modelling of David’s robe highlighted in shell gold (real gold powder in gum Arabic base).

However, this wasn’t the only dramatic incident in the manuscript’s history. The book was originally commissioned by Bona Sforza, Duchess of Milan, in the late fourteenth/early fifteenth century from the best artist in the city. As can be seen here, Birago had a wonderful style of painting, very mannered but very precise. Bearing in mind that this manuscript is the size of a pocket book, the detail is amazing.

This image is the text from the Hours of the Cross and the angel at the top holds the crown of thorns and the nails; at the base is a cherub kneeling in adoration of the cross. Note Birago’s style of high cheek bones and wonderfully curling locks. The borders either side are in typical Renaissance style of intertwining foliage, trumpets, and mythical creatures – in this case sirens.

It was discovered some time later in a letter written by Birago to ‘Your Excellency’ (un-named) that a visit by Fra Johanne Jacopo to view the manuscript was not without incident. Apparently he stole part of the book! In that same letter Birago explained that ‘The part which your excellency has is worth more than 500 ducats. The other part is with the Duchess …’. So just a part of the book was worth five times more than Leonardo da Vinci’s ‘Madonna of the Rocks’, valued at the time at 100 ducats.

In this image the Holy Spirit is descending in the form of a dove on to the disciples. Note St Peter with his keys, the very lively robes, and the wonderful curls of the men.

The story of the book continues. It was not finished, but on the Duchess’s death passed to her nephew, Philibert II of Savoy. The manuscript wasn’t long with him because he died a year later and it then went to his widow, Margaret of Austria, Regent of the Netherlands. She went there taking the book with her, and after ten years asked Etienne de Lale to finish the text in a style that is rather inferior to that in the rest of the book. This page is by the original scribe in a strong Gothic Rotunda, a style used in Italy and Spain, much less compressed than the Gothic Textura of northern Europe.

Margaret also asked the court painter Gerard Horenbout to add more illuminations. His style and that of Birago are totally different but both are supreme artists in miniature. Look at the detail here, how finely the figures are painted, although the sunny, hilly exteriors, and the light interiors of Italy painted by Birago have been replaced by Horenbout to dark rooms and the rather dreary, in comparison, backgrounds of northern Europe. The challenge of depicting haloes is well shown here. There’s not such a problem when the figures are full face and not looking down too much, but when shown as here it’s difficult not to see them as golden plates on their heads.

Admitting the huge skill of Horenbout, my preference very much is the style of Birago. Here are some more miniatures in the Sforza hours. Now there’s curly hair and there’s curly hair! Admittedly Mary Magdalene was known for her hair when anointing the feet of Christ … but! It was said that she was a hermit in the desert and didn’t eat or drink but was sustained by God. She is supported by angels rising to heaven to receive that sustenance.

Never has there been a group of more high cheek-boned, curly haired men than here in this image of the Last Supper. Even the servants ladling soup and pouring and serving wine are depicted in the same way. And for itinerant travellers, the disciples are certainly robed luxuriously.

There’s more to be seen on the British Library’s website here, and although there are only few pages of this manuscript remaining, each of the images is a real gem.

A Scribe and Illuminator’s Workroom

Having just finished twenty-one new pieces for my forthcoming British Library book (this post is written in July 2023), I decided to re-cover my sloping board – something I do once about every 3-4 years, depending on how dirty it is. As it was so lovely and clean I felt that it might be interesting to show the board and the rest of my workroom. This is the view from the door, and although it looks big, it’s about 2 metres by 3·5 metres. However, don’t think that I’m complaining that it’s small! I know how very lucky I am to have a dedicated workroom when most people have to share their working space within another room, as I did for very many years. My chair in front of the board is padded with two flat cushions and stools are to hand on the right to put completed work or a computer, or texts just written. Note also how close my chair is to the sink on the left.

So, the room tour. Directly to the left of the door are large cardboard tubes. Most of these are from vellum skins sent from William Cowley, but the large one at the back right is from work I did for the Damian Hirst ‘s exhibition held in Venice – ‘Treasures of the Wreck of the Unbelievable’. To the immediate left are red tubes of tracing paper for large projects. The tubes are useful not only for storing large sheets of paper but also for sending large artworks to those who have commissioned pieces. Now, however, I work mostly on vellum, and so large pieces are stretched over board requiring a different delivery system, and so these tubes are a bit redundant, somehow, though, I can’t bring myself to throw them away!

On the work surface to the right of the tubes are swans’ and Canadian goose feathers ready to be cut into quills. It may look like quite a lot for one scribe but most are waiting for workshops I teach on ‘Quills and Calligraphy’. I also don’t cure feathers with heat – sand or a Dutching tool and an iron. I find that feathers cure themselves by just being left to dry naturally as I’m sure happened in mediæval and Renaissance times. It was only with the rise of literacy and growth of empires and the need for records that more and more pens were needed and the curing process had to be speeded up that heat was needed.

Above that are cupboards of books and supplies. This is the first cupboard. At the bottom left is a small folder bursting with papers. These are quotations, poems and prose that I’ve collected over many years and which I write out to give to friends or for my own use. Occasionally someone will ask me if I’ve got something suitable for an occasion and it may be in here or in one of the books to the right which focus on important stages in life – birth, marriage and death mainly. Above that are various books by other calligraphers – it’s always useful to see what the competition is up to. And above that books on Latin, Chaucer, and various reference books to use in my work.

Under that cupboard is a new piece on vellum waiting to be sent to the person who commissioned it. I hope to be able to do a blogpost about this in the future as it was a really interesting artwork to do. Behind that is a strip of lead to be made into lead points to show to classes and for them to use. And at the back, to the right is oak gall ink getting nicely black. Oh and more books!

Below that, all along the work surface are even more books! Book shelves in the house are completely full, so are the cupboards here. I also have my own books here which I also use for reference – not everything stays in mind and so it’s helpful to look things up. In front of the books is a new box of Schmincke Calligraphy Gouache to use in photographs for the new book. They really are the best paints to use for writing and for painting. There’s more about them and mixing colours from the two reds, two blues, and two yellows here.

There’s a small sink just behind where I sit, completely reachable by simply swivelling round in my seat. I cleaned it up specially for this photo! It’s usually covered with ink and colour and not a pretty sight. To the right of the sink is a pot with old toothbrushes in it ready to brush the nibs clean. To the side and behind the sink are clean little jars up-ended and ready to fill with water for washing brushes when painting or to add to gouache to dilute it for writing and painting. It isn’t shown here but the tap is this side of the sink just to the left again for ease of use.

On to the window sill there’s clean paper towels for wiping nibs and reservoirs dry so they don’t rust, and tubes of Schmincke gouache ready to use. There are too many tubes to store neatly but I know where each tube is in that pile and usually just need to reach my hand out to grab the one I want.

Further along the window sill is a pot of quills already cut just waiting to be used. The nibs of all of these will have separated into two halves. This is not a disaster! The strength of a feather is when it is complete, cutting into it weakens it. However, popping the quill into a jar of water for an hour or so brings the two tines together ready for use and doesn’t soften the nib.

Below the window sill and just to the left of the seat is a trolley of already mixed (but now dried) small palettes and crucibles of paint, jars of black ink, and ink droppers to add water to paint (never use a brush dipped in clean water as the quantity can’t be controlled). Good quality gouache will last in this dry state with water added when it needs to be used. At the front right are pen holders, the green one in the shape of a dragon, and an Arkansas stone to sharpen nibs. As a right-hander, everything is to my left so that I can easily fill pens with ink and paint with my left hand, and then not take a fully charged pen over where I’ve just written. I did think to clean this up a little before this post, but it’s how I work and so I left it!

Then, proud moment here, my clean new board. This is flat whereas it would usually be at a slope of about 45°. It’s a large board with its own stand with a sloping rule, ideal for drawing the many lines calligraphers need to do. A pad of white paper completely covers the board, and then a fold of paper (fold at the top) goes right across bottom part of the board held at a slight tension, so that the writing paper can go to the right and left, and up and down, and doesn’t slip. The writing paper or vellum isn’t attached anywhere because it needs to be at a comfortable writing level which is usually when the hand is about the same level as the shoulder. The shadow is a large light fitted with daylight bulbs so it gives the truest light. The window, which is another source of light, is of course, for a right-hander on my left so that my hand doesn’t create a shadow where I’m writing and painting.

To the right of the board are all the tools I need for painting and writing. At the back on the left is a long metal straight edge for cutting paper and skin of large pieces, and to the left, in the front, are erasers in a little muller, behind that a tiny jar of pounce, and behind that little bags of sandarac in a shallow pot. Magic tape, used pretty much all the time to attach lines on roughs and best pieces is to the left of a hygrometer which indicates the humidity for illumination. And behind that are scissors, dividers, pens, brushes, paste and wash brushes etc. To the right of the storage pots are large knives for cutting vellum.

At the back of the table to the right is a plastic folder which holds set squares. One side of all of these has a metal edge for cutting (don’t cut using a set square without a metal edge as the knife is bound to cut into the plastic and ruin the straight edge). It is easy to stand up from my board and simply reach over for these. In front of them is a magnifying glass on its own stand for working on tiny paintings.

All sit on a variety of sizes of cutting mats. Of course, everything has to be moved off if I want to use the larger one, so I must admit that I usually use the medium sized one and just slide the paper/skin along. This isn’t the best or most efficient and it really would be more sensible simply to move stuff off!

A relatively new addition, recommended by my son-in-law who is an excellent photographer, is this flat table and two powerful lights (not the the Anglepoise to the right which has a different purpose) to take good quality photographs of my work, and the camera I use (far too old but I don’t know what new one to get – I’m far from an expert!) is at the back. On the table is a card with gesso at various mixes, and an experiment of shell gold on vellum written with a quill just to make sure that the treatment I was going to give for the actual skin produced the best result.

The last of the ‘tour’ are rolls of vellum (and one of paper to the left). It is better to take the relatively tightly rolled skins out of the tube they are sent in so that the roll is much looser; this then makes it easier to cut large and small pieces from the skin. In front of the rolls are smaller pieces of vellum in a clear plastic folder, some far too small to use but somehow I think they may be handy for something. I used to make vellum size from them for making gesso but now I use fish glue (Seccotine). This is a bit of a dark corner so the Anglepoise lamp is there to add light when selecting the skins.

And a last tantalising look at how the sloping board is at the moment (July 2023). These are the twenty-one new pieces of artwork with stage-by-stage of how they were done for the ‘Art of the Scribe’ book to be published Spring 2024 by the British Library. It is an information book about seven selected writing styles – the ones most commonly used by calligraphers –and also a practical section for each script of three graded pieces with detailed instructions on how to do them. You’ll have to wait until the book is published to see what’s in those folders!

The Glitterati of 2023

What a wonderful group of eight budding illuminators-to-be there was for this year’s intensive Tools, Techniques and Materials of Mediæval Manuscripts three-day course in May. It is always interesting to see how eight different people, complete strangers, from different parts of the UK and the world will react when spending three days together. I have been so lucky in that everyone who comes on my courses has been really nice – and so it proved to be this time!

It takes quite a long time to get the rooms ready. The furniture has to be arranged, and then all the tools and equipment set out for each individual – well over 30 individual pieces of equipment. No-one has to bring anything with them – it’s all provided. I do this for three main reasons. It is very expensive buying vellum, books of gold leaf, sets of paints, and fine kolinsky sable brushes. If someone is doing this only once, it is a lot of cost, which could be seriously off-putting! Then, for those coming long distances and even from overseas, buying all the correct stuff is not easy and carrying it long distances on public transport is also a challenge. Lastly, and this is from experience of many, many years, it is so important to have the right tools and materials – too low a gold level in leaf gold means that it will not stick to itself, a old burnisher that someone has found in a drawer may be scratched and ruin the gold, and new scissors bought cheaply will make the gold leaf tear. It really is a case of, quite rightly ,a workman blaming his tools when things don’t go well!

But the results were amazing as you can see. Gesso well laid, gold attached and burnished to a bright shine, and miniatures painted well.

Here are the results and comments from those on the course, although comments are not necessarily next to the image completed (by the way, the images may be a bit skewwhiff because I wanted to make sure the brilliance of the gold was captured).

Amazed at what I’d learnt on the first day. I thought we had a lot to do, and we did, but Patricia had timings meticulously planned, and we finished. it was extremely good value for such an in depth course (and most memorable).

Your help and advice at all stages have been very welcome; thank you for your encouraging words throughout the course. So glad to have attended. I have learned a great deal and particularly enjoyed using gesso. Absolutely fantastic. Thank you.

Superb! I’ve learned so much and will definitely experiment with techniques in the future, Unique and top quality training with plenty of inspiration for future explorations. Very clear, easy to follow and clearly based on practical experience. Brilliantly pitched.

I just want to say what a wonderful experience this has been – absolutely perfect for me! Thank you so much for your wonderful warmth and hospitality (well beyond what the course would require to be a success).

Perfectly paced and really fun, learned so much, quill making amazing. Patricia you are wonderfully encouraging and positive, Loved the gesso and gilding. Tremendous! Wish I could have stayed for a week.

I was so looking forward to it, but the course was so much more than I could have expected, The learning was wonderful, and I cannot thank you enough for all the effort you put in to make it an amazing experience. Excellent! Repeats, great demonstrations, you are a wonderful teacher! All my thanks.

This is famously the best course in the world, which is why we’re all here. No-one was disappointed.

I loved the fact that you walked us through the details of all the supplies we used, where they came from and how they are made. It was an amazing experience, I have learned so much more than I had hoped to. Patricia, you are a very generous teacher and person. I am so glad I signed up for this workshop.

Courses are held in Kent, UK, about 35 minutes by train from London. They are run usually the third weekend (plus the Friday) in May, and details are sent out in my free online monthly newsletter. The courses fill up very quickly, so if you are interested, do book your place as soon as it’s advertised!

‘Hands of Time’

There is now only a handful of watchmakers in the UK which means that it has been in the Critically Endangered category in the Heritage Crafts Red List of Endangered Crafts since the first research was published. Hurray, then, for Craig and Rebecca Struthers who run their company, Struthers Watches, in the Jewellery Quarter in Birmingham. The fact that this is such a rare craft means that Rebecca’s book ‘Hands of Time’ is even more important.

However, do not think that this is yet another book on craft, who does it and how to do it, of which there seem to be quite a few at the moment. This is a fascinating, delightful and well-written book about all aspects of time and the development of measuring time, as the title suggests, No wonder it was chosen to be ‘Book of the Week’ on BBC’s Radio 4 in what seemed like only seconds after it was published! Rebecca is the only person in the UK to have a PhD in horology and her research and depth of knowledge stands her in good stead for this book.

All the drawings in the book (here and as above) were done by Rebecca’s husband, Craig, and the care, precision, delight, and execution add immensely to the book. They also show the need for the supreme accuracy that is required for those who work with objects that are often less than a mm in size.

What is particularly interesting about the book is the way in which Rebecca weaves her own story and experiences into the means by which counting and recording time has developed. In the first chapter, for example, it is meeting with friend Jim, whose wife is a shepherdess, who explains the effects of nature and the seasons on the times when ewes get pregnant and then giving birth; this emphasises the way in which the yearly cycle has on all of us, even though it is often not always obvious to city dwellers. This also relates to the 44,000 years old Lebombo bone (see image) which has scratched markings on it that are thought to reflect and represent the days of the lunar month and the monthly cycle – perhaps a degree of sophistication at that time which many hadn’t fully appreciated.

Rebecca considers both the development of watches and a number of special watches such as this lion watch which some believe to have been owned by Mary, Queen of Scots, and was presented to her by her first husband, Francis II, King of France. This watch was then given to Mary Seton, one of the ‘four Marys’ who accompanied the Queen to France and then back to Scotland. It was said to have been given to Mary Seton on the Queen’s execution, but was this actually the case?

Should watchmakers and repairers leave any sign of their work on watches? This is similar to calligraphy which is rarely signed. Decades later it is often difficult to work out who was responsible for great works of art. Rebecca was told never to leave a trace, but this person inadvertently left a finger print here on the back of an enamelled watch. (Can you see it, just under the word ‘Wilson’?) Wouldn’t it be interesting to know who this person was and at what stage they were involved in making the watch?

One of my favourites, photographed by Andy Pilsbury, as indeed all the photographs are in the book, is this watch which is part of a chatelaine, worn by a housekeeper or someone in charge of a large house. What a lucky housekeeper to have such a wonderful instrument as part of her daily duties to refer to every day.

I have had such pleasure reading this book, and enjoyed every moment as stories both of Rebecca’s own experiences, and the history of watchmaking are revealed, and the art and craft of watchmaking are interleaved with the history and development of watches. I cannot recommend this book highly enough – buy one for yourself and one or two more for those who you may think would also be fascinated, and those really difficult people (uncles, aunts, cousins, brothers) who are difficult to buy for – you won’t regret it!

‘The Lindisfarne Gospels: Art, History and Inspiration’

This new book by Eleanor Jackson, Curator of Illuminated Manuscripts at the British Library, on the Lindisfarne Gospels offers a fascinating insight into this magnificent manuscript. The fact that the Gospels are thought to have been created by one man, Eadfrid, Birshop of Lindisfarne, before 720 is quite remarkable. It is also glossed, an Old English translation of every word, not necessarily making complete sense, by Aldred, who describes himself as ‘a miserable priest’ in the colophon (‘peak’ or ‘finishing touch’ from the Greek) which he added at the end of the book, and is the earliest surviving translation of the gospels into English.

The new book has magnificent images, many of them enlarged so that the innovative and inspirational design and mastery of skill of pen and brush are clearly shown. This is the incipit, the beginning, of Luke, and it shows the innovative design, the intricacies, and the precision of execution. La Tène ornament (the whirls and swirls) contrast with the entwined bodies of birds lower left, and the multitude of red dots, so characteristic of insular manuscripts.

The enlargements emphasise also the accuracy of Eadfrid’s designs and the different colours used and can be studied in great close-up. At the top here is ‘Eusebius’ (note Aldred’s script just above), having a diamond for the middle crossbar of the letter ‘E’, and with its entwined birds, a dog, interlace, and a multitude of red dots; this is the opening to the prefatory text. Below is ‘Generationum’, the beginning of the chapter lists for the Gospel of Matthew, with restrained decoration but again many many red dots. Note the capitals written in Half-Uncial in red at the top ‘Incipit capitula lectio sec mattheum’ indicating what is to follow. The colour red used is beginning to deteriorate at the beginning to a darker red.

The book is notable for its cross carpet pages. These are designs that incorporate crosses (in the Lindisfarne Gospels many on one page), and look like the intricate designs in a Middle Eastern carpet. Research by Professor Michelle Brown suggests that carpets were used for prayer on special occasions at the time the book was produced in a similar way to Islamic traditions. Here the cross carpet page for Matthew is a riot of intricate birds and dog-like creatures. But for me, it is those white circles which really catch the eye. Were they left to be illuminated with gold or another colour? With such an eye for effect, it is really interesting that Eadfrid left them blank like this.

The author images are particularly striking, taking up a whole pages and showing the ages of man, writing in books and on scrolls, and three-quarters and full face. This of Luke, with his name and representative animal of a calf, is shown with him sitting on a cushion and bench, his feet on a stool, and writing on his lap. His name is written in Greek but in an angular script that is similar to Runes.

The angle of the face of his calf is very similar to that inscribed in wood on the coffin of St Cuthbert made probably at Lindisfarne at the end of the seventh century. The calf is shown also holding a book between its front legs.

The colophon of Aldred is particularly important naming as it does Eadfrid as the scribe, Æthelwold as the person who bound it, and Billfrith who adorned the covers. It must have been truly magnificent and a great asset to the cult of St Cuthbert who was regarded as the greatest saint in England until Thomas Becket at Canterbury.

This new book by Eleanor Jackson brings together the knowledge that we have of this great book and looks anew at the manuscript. It, like the book, is a true treasure trove and anyone who is interested in Lindisfarne the Gospels, St Cuthbert and the history of this area, and wants their eyes to be delighted and their souls to be enriched by the artistry of this amazing manuscript needs this book!

Fear no More the Heat of the Sun

‘Fear no more the heat of the sun’ is a poem from William Shakespeare’s ‘Cymbeline’. It is a poem of reassurance at death – nothing can touch the deceased now, not sun, cold, thunderstorms, whims of monarchs or tyrants, or even ghosts or witches.

I had been wanting to write this out for for time and thought it would be appropriate for my new book ‘The Art of the Scribe’, to be published by the British Library in 2024. It just wasn’t right though and so I went a different route in the end.

The first rough is here and the script I tried was Caroline Minuscule. This is one of the seven scripts featured in the new book. I had the idea of the sun colours changing from red to yellow through a couple of oranges for each verse, but it really didn’t work. The piece was far to large and it just didn’t hang together in these varied colours. The initial letters for each verse were emphasised here and I left space to write a gold initial for the first verse.

This lay on one side of my work bench for some time, mulling over the design and thinking of ways to improve it, I was spurred on by realising that it was the colours, size and script that were all wrong – not much right then! Quite a change was required. So I mixed one colour – a good orange (see here for colour mixing) using Schmincke Calligraphy Gouache, I cut a small nib on a swan’s quill, about the size of a Mitchell nib size 6, and wrote it out in rough.

I had the idea of a setting sun at the bottom of the piece. This is depicted in some mediæval manuscripts with alternate straight rays and wavy rays which I rather like – good to have that difference. Not being that good at sums, it took me a little while to work out the appropriate angles so that the rays were even, but once this was done and half-circles inscribed with compasses, it was not too difficult to draw and paint them in Schmincke Goldpearl.

I had done quite a bit of research for the new books into scripts of the Renaissance and decided on a style of Arrighi Italic. I used a lovely piece of prepared vellum (see here, and here). With a left aligned margin and a small quill I wrote out the text in orange gouache, painted the sun at the bottom, with the rays carefully measured out and was able to give the piece to friends. I was sorry in a way to see it go as I rather liked what I had done with it in the end, but pleased, too, that they would be able to enjoy it.

Patricia Lovett MBE

Calligraphy | Illumination | Design