Stuff that Shapes our Lives

We’re getting settled in. I know I’ve been saying that, but we really still are “settling in.” Last Friday movers brought us some furniture and everything that had been in boxes in the storage unit in the U.S. Even after a marathon unpacking session yesterday (which I punctuated with passes through my research notes, making plans for future outings) there are boxes lingering in all the corners, along the walls, over the flat surfaces.

The books we have mostly tamed, in part because the bulk of the adult library is still in the attic in Durham. I’m just a little sad to not have all my books, but the most important ones (music and some of the history) are here. I can live without the fiction, classic literature and poetry, computer textbooks, parenting books, and nature guides. All of the children’s books showed up. All 1500 of them, by Tom’s estimate, ranging from a few board books to full-length young adult novels and everything inbetween. They don’t fit well on the built-in bookshelf we have; many are both too tall and too deep. I swear, I will winnow them down a bit this year, although my mom and I did trim our collection a great deal last summer.

As I unpack I am continually grateful that I purged so much before moving. Yes, I have cubic yards of fabric to unbox, refold, and put away (the tubs I stored them in back home won’t fit in the cabinets here) but at least I left many large trash bags of fabric in other people’s hands! Yes, the contents of my homeschool cabinet (math manipulatives, workbooks, puzzles, science equipment) are here and frustrating to store, but think of how many boxes of stuff I gave away! Yes, all the papers from the filing cabinet are here (but not the cabinet itself, as per our request) but this means that I have a chance to go through the contents and recycle as much as possible. As I unpack I am finding still more items that we can do without, and setting them aside to pass along when I can find time.

I’m great at giving things away to friends, family, or freecycle. But I’m also fantastic about finding free stuff. The streets in my neighborhood are a never ending buffet of temptations, because it is a fairly nice place and people have a habit of putting their usable castoffs on the sidewalk, free for passersby. I brought home a wooden riding toy for Weyland, a stroller with a little life left, a small bookshelf (and sore arms the next day!), a bendy cube toy, a brand-new oven mitt, styrofoam for a craft project, fleece blankets from IKEA, and a large rolling bag that is great for packing SCA gear in for events. I have been sorely tempted by some rugs that I would have loved to use on the floor of our pavilion, but decided against them.

My craft supplies also taunt me, even more than the fabric, reminding me that I have materials for many more projects than I have time in which to do them. I must make time this year to use more of it up, AND resist buying additional supplies. This will not be easy. Although if I do start scrapbooking again, I will probably permit myself to buy more albums. It would be nice to go through and scrapbook the keepsakes I’ve been saving since highschool, since they also moved across the ocean with us. Sigh.

Getting Down to Serious Research

I haven’t been ignoring my blog, I just keep composing in my mind while away from the computer, and no one has yet invented a method for me to transfer the results onto the screen.

I’ve been lurking in libraries and trolling online catalogs. Last week I spent two days at the National Art Library in the Victoria and Albert Museum. That museum is big, and confusing, and pieced together like a multi-story crazy quilt. I got lost and had to ask for directions four times just to find the library, and then got lost trying to find the cloakroom to check my bag, and then got turned all around trying to find the restroom. At least when you get lost at the V&A, there are interesting things to see. Distracting exhibits on silver, stained glass, jewelry, Buddhist sculpture, ballgowns, 20th century art…so I even enjoyed getting lost. And once I figure out a route once, I’m good with directions and usually get it right when I retrace it.

The staff at the V&A were quite helpful and the computer system is easy to work with. I went to the prints and drawings library (totally different part of the museum; more getting lost) and the librarian seemed genuinely remorseful that he couldn’t produce some tidbit of art that would inform my research. I thanked him and told him that it was OK, finding nothing still was a data point for me, since it meant I had an adequate grasp of what images might be available.

This past weekend I grappled with bibliography issues. I have pages and pages of call numbers and titles of books at the UNC Libraries; many of the books on them I at least looked at, others I never got my hands on. Some I have thoroughly plumbed, digitally scanning every image that might help and scanning or summarizing the text; others could not be checked out and required more time than I could devote on that library trip; still others were in storage and I never requested them, or in circulation and I never went back after they had been returned. My trips to UNC were irregular, and my research areas varied. When I was pregnant, I looked at books about birth customs. When I was preparing my Italian men’s clothing research, my sources were Italian or German. When I worked on English women’s costume, I looked at art from England, France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. And I had plenty of tangents into other topics — learning about Margaret of Beaufort so that I could write poetry in her voice, or looking for 16th century Turkish art so that I could make the boys clothes to attend a Middle Eastern themed event. (I love UNC libraries.)

I sorted these library lists and made a single long list on my V&A library account of books that they have that I want to see because I think they’d be useful for my English women’s costume in 1500 research. Some I know I have seen before, but it has been so long, I should look at them again. I made a smaller list of books that the V&A didn’t have, but the British Library did.

I also started a Librarything account, on which I am only attempting to list the nonfiction costume and history related books that I own. (I’ll have to list lots more once our furniture arrives from the U.S. — it still isn’t here.) I already love the feature where they recommend other books based on what you own; I certainly could spend a lot of money on books, despite my deep and abiding love of libraries and their “free books.”

This week I spent two days at the British Library. I’ve been just a little nervous about applying for a reader card there — I mean, I’ve never before had to go through an interview to prove that I’m worthy to read books in a library! But it was easy, the staff was helpful, and I got what I most came for: the searchable database of the Pevsner’s Architectural guides. Which I could have ordered, but then I would have had to pay for it AND wait for it. The software is a bit of a pain to use — I messed up the first time and I had to ask them to hold the disk for me a few more days, but the second time I got everything I wanted. Now the data awaits me, sitting on my computer in a nice spreadsheet, just begging me to go trolling through it looking for interesting churches to visit and memorial artwork to scrutinize.

I also got one image I’ve been wanting for at least a year and a half. It is a full color version of this illuminated page from the Writhe Garter Book. The British Library has one of the facsimile versions that was published in the 1990s. I wondered why I had to go to the Rare Books room to see it…until they brought it to me. It had to have been more than two feet high. Huge. Beautiful. Vibrant color. With really intelligent discussions about how to date the artwork. It was almost too big to fit onto their super-duper digital imaging scanner thingy, but it did! For 36 pence, that image was mine (with a British Library watermark across it, but I can handle that).

I’ve been reading the bibliographies of the books I’ve requested almost more carefully than the articles inside. Today after enjoying The Illuminated Page: ten centuries of illuminated manuscripts in the British Library by Janet Backhouse (really lovely book, great color reproductions, nice overview of a large span of time with just enough text to inform with bogging you down), I looked through her recommended reading list and realized that I had read every book on her list that related to my time period, except for one that I hadn’t seen yet but already had on my list at the V&A.

I looked at The Depiction of Clothing in French Medieval Manuscripts by Patricia M. Gathercole but found little there that a SCAdian with a penchant for costume research couldn’t tell me. But the book did have a bibliography, so I started jotting down titles…only to glance over to my left and see one of the listed books sitting on the top of the stack I’d just picked up from the reservation desk.

Which means that, I have really got to organize my references. Now. I believe there will be hours of playing with Endnote in my near future, since that is the software we already have sitting on our computer.

Ah, the happiness of making progress, getting things done, figuring things out. My head is so full of names of kings and queens, painters and printers, images of art, dates and places. I looked through a book with the complete paintings of Holbein today, satisfied myself that I had seen every image in there, and kept going. I wonder how many images I’m storing in my head related to this research? Holbein isn’t someone whose work I’ve delved deeply, because he worked in England long enough after my target date that the costumes really had changed and what he depicts looks radically different from what I see on c.1500 funerary art.

I also realized this week how important it is for me to be present in England, learning the real and current geography of London, for me to comprehend what I read. I was skimming/reading an article about printers, scribes, writers, bookbinders and their ilk in England between 1475 and and 1500. I wanted to see whether there were any names that I should be searching on, any artists whose corpus I had not perused. But the discussion was more about the mechanics of who set up shop where and why. To slog my way through the academic paper, I had to create a mental map, relating the guildhalls of London to the Inns of Court (just outside the City walls, and thus their jurisdiction), and thinking about the travel time between Westminster (where William Caxton set up his press) and the City.

Which I know, because I’ve walked it. Wow.

Hampton Court Palace

This week has been wonderful. Last weekend I met a fabulous assortment of “big names” in the field of medieval and Renaissance textile and costume research (more on that later!) and during the week Tom took off work for family adventuring, making the most of the boys’ half term break. Monday we went to Hampton Court Palace, Tuesday we left Weyland at preschool so that we could experience the International War Museum, Wednesday we saw Brave in the movie theater (an unusual treat for us), Thursday we spent a quiet day at home, and today the older boys and I returned to Hampton Court Palace.

We had a fantastic time. Hampton Court Palace is mostly about Henry VIII (especially now, when the recreated crown just went on display last weekend) which is early Tudor enough that I have a natural affinity for the place, but a nagging fear that I’m dragging my kids along on my adventure. But Tallis asked to go back there again. He asked to go back. Those not living with him probably cannot understand the magnitude of that request; we did something historic and unique to England and he liked it enough to want to do it again. I think the only other repeats he’s requested since arriving involved food.

Monday we began by taking our first train trip. The half hour ride was made more engaging by an impromptu game in which we “collected points” for things we could spot out the windows: one for a train, two for a bridge, five for a bus, ten for a church. We debarked to a day both crisp and beautiful: the bright blue sky, the swan landing on the water as we crossed the bridge, the deep red  ivy on the wall, the ornate and varied brick chimneys on the palace, and dozens of other things delighted me.

The kids went first to the historic maze, and all enjoyed running up and down its paths. A little game of tag in the gardens went fine with a morning snack, but when grouchiness impeded our ramble we realized that we’d have to stop for lunch. We left the palace to eat at Pizza Express, a much higher end joint than the name would imply, which wins great approval from our children because its kid’s menu comes with not only a pizza and dough balls, but ice cream and a bambiccino — steamed whipped milk sprinkled with cocoa powder. The adult options are worthy of repeat visits, too.

After lunch, we joined in the costumed living history activities, and the kids joined forces with the English courtiers to “play spy”. I left them with Tom and checked out the chapel with Weyland, and smiled fondly at the portraits in the gallery. Weyland delighted me by identifying Elizabeth of York in the copy of the Whitehall portrait as “Mommy”.

All three boys decorated crowns, dressed in the loaner “gowns” the palace provided, and tried out the children’s audio tour, though we made little progress through it before the next living history scene we wanted to join. (One packing failure: my camera stayed home. My smartphone can’t take good photos in a dim castle.) While I made crowns Tom  checked out galleries about Mantegna’s Triumphs of Caesar and the young Henry VIII, but when we finished enjoying the theatrics in the Great Hall and had to leave — the palace was about to close! — it felt as if we had hardly begun to explore.

I still feel that way, as our return today deepened our experience more than it broadened it. The train ran smoothly, the weather was nearly perfect, the maze hadn’t rearranged itself at all (which Tallis proved by leading us through unerringly on his first try) and the living history experience was even more magnificent now that we knew what to expect.

Museums and historic sites all over London advertise special  half term activities, but those at Hampton Court are unlike any I’ve ever enjoyed. Seven costumed interpreters play out one day in August 1546, when the ailing Henry VIII welcomes French ambassadors to his court, hoping to sign a peace treaty. The degree to which the youthful audience is included in the script amazed me and delighted my children so much that almost all that we did today was to participate in this reenactment.

We joined an English gentleman and his lady wife, relatives of the deceased but still lauded third wife Jane Seymour, in the courtyard to greet the two noble Frenchmen, heralded in fine style by the costumed musician. The Spanish Ambassador was hanging around, cracking snide jokes but downplaying his presence. The entourage moved into the Great Hall, and then the Great Watching Chamber, where we met Henry VIII and his sixth wife Catherine Parr.

During a lull while the actors retreated for negotiations, the boys discovered the game Fox and Geese. We played it quite a while before meandering down the hallway toward the next reenactment, pausing only to enjoy the portraiture and pose Garrett in the Page’s Room.

When the French unexpectedly demanded the return of Boulogne (a place on the continent that Henry’s troupes captured at great cost) the peace seemed derailed and we were treated to one of Henry’s famous tempers.

After lunch the boys, having noticed that the spying parties split and followed three different actors to interrogate different suspects, wisely selected an alternate adventure to the one they enjoyed last time. On Monday they asked the French Ambassadors about the reason for the changed demands, but today they asked Princess Mary what she knew of the whole affair. When the spies convened in Henry’s council chamber to advise the king, Tallis boldy reported the findings of his contingent: Princess Mary knew that the Spanish ambassador opposed the peace accord, and yet told no one.

Soon after, the children again called on Mary and found her fretting. Her lineage, half English and half Spanish (her mother was Henry’s first wife Catherine of Aragon), made her suspect, since it was logical that her kinsman the Spanish emperor might wish to disrupt peace between France and England. The English courtier summoned from their number advisers for the king. Henry truly asked them about how to repair relations with his daughter, listened to their suggestions, and spoke with feeling about the complexities of being a king. My children, now comfortable with the actors and with scenario, were of course sitting in front and quite vocal.

After an awkward attempt at reconciliation between Henry and Mary, we proceeded to the Great Hall where the children rehearsed a masque. Garrett and Tallis participated in this on Monday, too — they had been in the chorus and had danced the simple celebratory Pavane. Today they knew to volunteer more enthusiastically, and Garrett got picked for one of the main rolls: Saint Denis. The story was simple, told in rhymed verse by one of the Frenchmen: Saint George (England) and Saint Denis (France) were friends but when a terrible worm (dragon) showed up it cause such a stink by farting that each country blamed the other and seemed near to war. Saint George and Saint Denis rode out looking for the worm, but it hid until Saint Denis challenged it to a farting contest. The contest went fine until Saint Denis soiled himself (as you know, when you work hard at farting, you “risk the follow through”). Saint George rode to his friend’s aid, put his sword “where the sun don’t shine” and the worm, full of gas but unpleasantly plugged, exploded. This play was a PERFECT level of potty humor for most of the children in attendance. Tallis again joined the chorus and dancing. Henry entered wearing his fantastic jeweled crown, a peace was worked out — the French agreed to pay a great sum for Boulogne — and the play was performed.

This whole story took the entire day — we arrived just after the palace opened and left as they were closing. Today I brought my camera, but due to the complexities of our still not having all our furniture, the computer that has the photos does not have internet. I will have to share pictures later.