Linguring in the 1850's

Another Dickensian Christmas

There once was a Christmas, years and years ago, when I sat on a cutting table stitching bonnet after bonnet with my fingers aching. The first time I ever made Dickensian things was at the theatre for a production of A Christmas Carol and this year that will be half the inspiration for my next little window exhibition. The other half will be Cambridge it self.

It all started when one day I unexpectedly found my self locked out and I was drawn into the warmth of the Fitzwilliam museum and then had to leave very quickly so I wouldn't lose the inspiration that washed over me while I was watching French caricatures from the 1840's (and yes, that might just be one of the most pretensions things I have ever said, thanks for noticing.) Suddenly I knew exactly what I wanted to do next.

 

Now, although I'm very fond of creating where I stand, after a tiny bit of research I've noticed that the part of Cambridge where I now live didn't exist in the 1850's, where we lay our scene. My street did not come into existence until the 1880's which in other cases fit me perfectly but in this case means I'll have to find another street and other houses to copy. This is going to take a while...

So instead of starting there I did what I always do. Introducing, the Test Person! I'll be making little clay people to populate my Dickensian Cambridge street, smaller than I have ever made before, and this will be who I shape it all according to. 

After I had made him two more followed so now I have an elderly man, a middle aged woman and a small child. I think that covers enough human difference for now. Don't worry, they will eventually have bodies as well.

In the end I imagine it will become a shopping street, lit up and crowded. In more ways than one. But you never know what turns these things can take...

I will leave you for now with the wise words of the Muppets: "When the cold wind blows it chills you, chills you to the bone. But there's nothing in nature that freezes your heart like years of being alone."