Field Dress

Last year I was invited by curator Patrick Macauley to be one of five artists to participate in 1812-2012: A Contemporary Perspective this spring at Harbourfront Centre in Toronto.  I was flattered to be asked, because Patrick Macauley is a wonderful curator who has always been generously supportive of my work.  Each artist was to propose pieces based on their individual experience and interpretation of the theme, and I was excited because the premise for the exhibition was right up my alley:

'Time passes slowly. How we remember and how we understand the past is always in question. This exhibition invites five contemporary artists to explore the War of 1812 through its historical complexities and bring forward a contemporary perspective.'

As I've been recently exploring through the lens of natural dyes how our deeper past can shape the future and as  I've always been fascinated by my own family's history (which is rooted in its immigration to Canada between 200 and 400 years ago), I was particularly keen.  The War of 1812 in particular is an important part in that story, as several of my ancestors can trace their settlement in southern Ontario to the period following the war.

 We always visited Canadian historical sites as part of our holidays when I was a child, including battle sites like the Plains of Abraham, and various forts dotted around the country, especially as my younger brother was fascinated by the stories of Generals Brock, Wolfe and Montcalm.  I loved our family trips, but I was never enthralled by the stories of these historical wars. Perhaps this was because at old forts I could never see myself in these places that were the realm of men.  Women's contributions were absent there, or at least quite behind the scenes.  I preferred our visits to historic homesteads and living museums like Upper Canada Village where everyday life was being reenacted:  cooking or dyeing wool over an open fire, or eating horehound candy sticks from the general store held much more appeal.   However, in the War of 1812, there was one woman whose story, whether entirely true or not, has become quite legendary in the history of the formation of Canada: Laura Secord.

The story is this:  

'The Secords had been ordered to billet American soldiers in their home. On the evening of June 21, 1813, Laura and her husband James overheard an American plan of an impending attack on British forces. The Americans were planning an assault against Lt. James Fitzgibbon at Beaverdams. With that position captured, the Americans could control the entire Niagara Peninsula. Upon hearing the plan, the Secords knew that Fitzgibbon must be warned. Injured at the Battle of Queenston Heights the previous October, James could not attempt the journey. Despite the danger and harsh unsettled country, Laura decided she would go to warn Fitzgibbon.

'Her journey along a 32 km (20 mile) treacherous route took more than 18 hours to complete. Fearing discovery by American patrols that were in possession of that part of Niagara, Laura Secord daringly made her way to DeCew house on the outskirts of Thorold. The dangers of such a journey were many - wolves, wildcats and rattlesnakes were common in the peninsula at this time, as were unfriendly Native forces. A woman walking alone toward enemy lines risked being arrested or even shot. Overcoming exceedingly hot temperatures and wild, unsettled land, Laura trekked through thick woods and across unbridged streams, tattering her slippers and leaving her feet blistered and bleeding.

'At Beaverdams, Laura encountered Native forces who were allies of the British. Upon hearing her news, they accompanied her to DeCew house where she was able to deliver her vital message to Fitzgibbon. As a result, the Native forces, under the command of John Norton and Dominique Ducharme, ambushed the invading Americans and defeated them at the Battle of Beaverdams, June 24, 1813.

'Although Laura was due much of the credit for the victory, her heroism was soon forgotten. It wasn't until 1860, almost fifty years later, that Laura received recognition of her act during a visit by Edward, Prince of Wales. She died in 1868 at the age of 93 and is buried in Drummond Hill Cemetery. In 2003, the Minister of Canadian Heritage designated Laura Secord a Person of National Historic Significance for her heroic actions during the War of 1812.'

(from the Laura Secord Homestead page of the Niagara Parks Commission)

With the bicentennial of the war, there have been many artists exploring the story of Laura Secord, not the least of whom is Barbara Klunder, whose incredibly beautiful exhibition Laura Secord:  The Paper Cuts was shown at David Kaye Gallery last November.  Initially this gave me some reserve in telling my version of the story. However, I persevered.

Pondering the blurred lines between historical fact and fiction, how in the present we interpret the past, romanticize and embellish it and these narratives that bring the past alive,  I decided to construct a costume for Laura Secord. With this costume, I wanted to emphasise while the regency period was a period of relative freedom in women's dress, women still had to contend with layers of petticoats and undergarments that restricted their activities, which makes Laura Secord's journey even more remarkable.

The pieces are based on garment patterns intended for historical interpretation and reenactment from Sense & Sensibility patterns.  To remain true to the period, I sewed every stitch of each piece by hand, learning, in the process, just how laborious clothes-making was before the sewing machine.  No wonder clothing had so much more value historically.  In my research, I also discovered many fascinating facts about the history of clothing, the most titillating of which, is that women did not typically wear any sort of underpants prior to circa 1830-40, just petticoats, sometimes as many as four or five, depending on the time of year. 

The piece, Field Dress, c.1812, is constructed as an historical artifact, supposing that, Laura Secord's journey was immediately recognised as a historically important contribution, and the clothing she wore to undertake her journey was preserved.

Artist Statement:

Field Dress, c.1812.

These artefacts comprise the costume famously worn during one lady’s perilous and circuitous journey made the 22^nd of June, 1813, under the heat of the summer sun, over some twelve miles of wood, swamp and miry road between the village of Queenston and Beaver Dam, etc.

FIELD • [noun ] an area on which a battle is fought : a field of battle.

DRESS • [as adj. ] denoting military uniform or other clothing used on formal or ceremonial occasions : a dress suit.

History is a study subject to interpretation, in which narratives become scattered and muddied, skewed and biased, altered and embellished, strewn and gathered, unpicked, and patch-worked back together.

The bicentennial of the War of 1812 is in many ways, the bicentennial of an immigration that shaped my own family’s history. My English and American ancestors settled in this land, Southern Ontario, and here, we have remained, for the last two centuries. Some were soldiers during the war, given land in exchange for their service in the war; others were Englishmen granted land after the war in order to strengthen and expand the geographical reach of the Upper Canada.  In the early days of settlement, often wholly unprepared for living in the near wilderness conditions, settlers endured back-breaking work and laboured to survive in a harsh climate, with few conveniences at their disposal. Landscape shapes the character of the people that inhabit it; the land leaves traces upon us as we traverse it, through fields, woods and rivers.

1812-2012:  A Contemporary Perspective continues until July 15, 2012 at York Quay Gallery,  Harbourfront Centre, 235 Queen's Quay West, Toronto. 

This work is generously supported by Harbourfront Centre and the City of Toronto Museum Services as part of a citywide programme for the Bicenennial Commemoration of The War of 1812. 

Hometown loveliness

I was recently home for an extended visit, and there is much to share, much of it relatively mundane.  However, those who know me, know that I find the mundane delightful. While I am happily not homesick living in London, there are so many things I do miss about home, and Hamilton, not the least of which are friends and family. It is a bit of an old chestnut, but it is the little things you miss most, such as checking on the progress of the vegetable garden in spring - where in my mother's garden, the cherry tree is in bloom, and rhubarb is ready for picking, and making into little galettes!

 The rhubarb tarts were my contribution to a lovely gathering with friends which served as farewell party to Jenna, a member of the Beehive who is leaving us for an exciting life in the country. Inevitably, we always end up eating a lot of cheese at such gatherings, but no one ever complains about this. We were hoping for a picnic, and though the weather did not favour us, I think we did pretty well indoors! A particular highlight:  manchego cheese paired with Hollie's preserved apricots!

I was happy to be able to drop by craft night at Needlework, two of my dear fellow Bees new business venture, a sew-by-the-hour fabric shop.  With the place was buzzing all evening long, with people working on their projects, Needlework is fast becoming the nerve centre of the Hamilton DIY community!  It gave me a chance to catch up, and shall I say, even conspire, with a few friends on future projects.

My dear friend Georgie's mother, who keeps chickens at her Greensville home, was kind enough to drop by with two dozen of the most beautiful eggs I have ever seen.  One of the very special things about Edwina's eggs, besides their flavour and wonderful colour is how she marks each egg in pencil with the date she collected them - so you know which eggs to use first.  Simple brilliance. The blue/green shells of some of the eggs were too beautiful to put on the compost heap, so I have saved them, and begun collecting them in jars. They will keep my small collection of bird's nests company. 

While in Toronto, installing my work at Harbourfront Centre, I visited my favourite lakeside spot.  I used to spend my lunch hours here during my residency in the craft studio.  I love this vantage point of Toronto Island at all times of year, but winter time might be my preferred season, when the shore is at its most quiet.

My last day before returning to London could not have been lovelier (aside from packing anxiety) as my friend Michelle treated me to a lovely walk at the arboretum of Royal Botanical Gardens and through the trails leading to Cootes Paradise.  These trails form part of the Bruce Trail, Canada's oldest and longest footpath, which traces the length of the Niagara Escarpment.

The woods in spring were brimming with life:  redbud trees in bloom, may apples, and trilliums.  We passed by beaver lodges, and this adorable little chipmunk. Sometimes I need a reminder that we in Hamilton are living in the midst of real paradise.

Dinner to Dye For

 Two weeks ago, on a beautiful spring Sunday, along with some charming ladies from Chelsea, I attended the spring edition of a Dinner to Dye For, a workshop hosted by Here Today Here Tomorrow, a London-based a collaborative and experimental shop/studio showcasing sustainable fashion and accessories. Dinner to Dye For is a project of the Permacouture Institute, a San Fransisco and London-based educational organisation for regenerative design in fashion and Textiles.  The workshop was hosted by the lovely Katelyn Toth-Fejel, Emma Rigby and Anna-Maria Hesse.

The workshop took place in the gardens of Hackney City Farm, a bucolic oasis in east London.  Dinner to Dye For is part dye workshop, part celebratory meal, both based on seasonal foraged plants.  The dyes used were dock (sorrel) root, nettle and onions skins, and rhubarb leaves, used as a mordant.  We made shibori bundles of strips of silk and wool using shaped wooden blocks.  It was truly lovely to share an afternoon of good company and getting one's hands dirty.

 

The part of the day I enjoyed most was the meal, which was delicious and fresh: rosehip fizz cocktails, stinging nettle and sussex slipcote cheese crostini with sorrel butter, beet with red onions, mint and horseradish cream, nettle spaetzle with chickpea fritters, and for desert lemon pots with poached rhubarb - a spring feast!

  

All the food was amazing, and made me think back to childhood suppers at my grandparents farm, where we often ate foraged foods - spring salads of dandelion leaves, fiddleheads and sorrel.  Stinging nettle grows in abundance at their farm, and as children, we definitely had painful brushes with it, but I do not recall eating it.  I will now!  The rosehip fizz cocktail, in particular was a revelation which I cannot quite describe, but suffice to say, I will be attempting to recreate it for myself.

Obsession: Rhubarb

My Obsession for the Month of May is Rhubarb.  It is such a beautiful vegetable.  Perhaps one cannot really call it a fruit, but it is the first true fruit of spring.  I currently have about five plants going, which seems like quite a few, since rhubarb plants are large, but if you are canning or preserving the rhubarb, it is easy to dispatch with what five plants can produce. Putting down, or putting up the rhubarb is the task I address today.

The simplest, and very fast method for preserving rhubarb is to wash, chop, measure, and then freeze the stalks.  Simply throw them in bags in the freezer.  I always measure it first, and then label the bag with the amount inside. This simplifies things later when you go to use it.

First, both with my beautiful forced rhubarb, and my regular rhubarb crop, I made rhubarb compote, using the recipe from Alice Water's Chez Panisse Fruit:

1 lb of rhubarb
zest of 1 orange (valencia or other juice orange)
1/2 cup white sugar
3 tablespoons freshly squeezed orange juice

Combine ingredients together in an ungreased baking dish.  Bake covered for 25 minutes at 350 degrees.  Remove cover and bake for another 5-10 minutes, or until rhubarb is soft, but still in pieces.  


This compote is lovely on ice cream, creme fraiche or yogurt, or eaten on its own.  It would also be nice with meat.  I find it best if you leave it for several days before eating so that the flavours can really meld.  

The orange zest beautifully tempers the tartness of the rhubarb.  The first batch of compote that I made with the forced rhubarb was eaten fairly immediately - 1 and 3/4 jars full. There they are, in the refrigerator beside last year's dill pickles. It is a beautiful bright pink colour. 

For the second batch, I multiplied the recipe six times to make enough to preserve in jars.  I harvested six pounds of rhubarb! I applied the same method as above, but after placing the compote in jars, I processed the compote for 15 minutes in a boiling water bath.  This ensured that my jars would properly seal.  Six pounds of rhubarb yielded 4 quart jars.

Notice that the compote made with this rhubarb is different in colour, made up of of the red and green parts of the rhubarb stalk.  To achieve a pink colour, you can exclude the green parts of the stalk, using only the red, but I do not like to waste any part of a good stalk of rhubarb.  I like the odd green colour of the the compote.

 Second, I made rhubarb jam, which is something I have never tried.  I always make strawberry-rhubarb jam, but this year I was inspired by my newest culinary obsession,  The Blue Chair Jam Cookbook, a birthday gift from my dear mother.  The book's author, and proprietor of the Blue Chair Jam Company, Rachel Saunders, praises the purity of flavour of plain rhubarb jam:

"One thing that always mystifies me is the difficulty of finding rhubarb cooked on its own; we always seem to succumb to the temptation to combine it with something else.  Yet rhubarb's unique flavour and texture set it apart from other early summer ingredients, and a really perfect rhubarb jam is hard to beat."

The recipe contains only rhubarb, sugar and lemon juice. Lemon juice brings out the flavour of the fruit.  It is an ingredient in all of Rachel Saunders Blue Chair jams.  The jam was everything promised in this beautiful cookbook - intense fruit flavour, tart and wonderful.  I ate it for breakfast this morning.

Recently, while reacquainting myself with The Victorian Kitchen Garden,  I learned not only of the technique of growing rhubarb in a forcing pot, as I did this year, but also of raising it in a heated, darkened forcing shed to bring on the growth of rhubarb in the winter.  In the north of England, they once had whole buildings devoted to this purpose.  Rhubarb forcing factories!  Now that I've seen that, I wondered if it is possible do so in one's basement. My suspicion was confirmed by Dick Raymond of Garden Ways Joy of Gardening.  This is possible. More on this later!

Perhaps we are tired of hearing all about rhubarb, but this will not be the last you hear of it from me.  I have yet to extoll its virtues as a useful natural dye plant and mordant!