Bottled gods

I went to the exhibition British Folk Art at Tate Britain, which I've been hoping to catch ever since I read about it. It's on until September and anyone with an interest in the remarkable creativity that falls into the space between utilitarian 'craft' and official 'art' would be well advised to go and marvel at the rich diversity of this curious and wondrous exhibition.

On display are such things as ships' figure heads, repainted time and time again; signs and symbols advertising trades and professions such as giant boots and massive padlocks; pictures of ships done in wool by sailors with time to kill on long voyages; a cockerel with plumage made of chicken bones all meticulously carved by a Napoleonic prisoner of war; pin cushions and samplers and quilts; items made of leather and wood and straw; and a few untutored painters such as the tailor George Smart who promoted himself with great success in his home town of Tunbridge Wells in the mid 19th century, and the Cornish fisherman Alfred Wallis who was taken up by 'proper' artists in 1920s - not to mention the remarkable Mary Linwood (1755-1845) who in her lifetime achieved the highest critical acclaim and prices to match yet was excluded from the Royal Academy because her medium was embroidery not paint.

The image shows something that remains a mystery. God-in-a-Bottle was the name given to these peculiar artifacts apparently, so the caption says, associated with the Irish Roman Catholic diaspora, particularly labourers in the north of England during the late 19th century. Whisky bottles containing crosses and other more puzzling constructions, corked and preserved to be marvelled at but "their exact purpose remains a mystery." However I think I can guess. The itinerant mostly-Irish navvies who built our roads and railways far from home sought solace in alcoholic drink, and company in taverns wherever they landed up on pay day. Such a curiosity, fashioned on sober nights in rude lodgings with tools and materials to hand, would guarantee attention, conversation and a few extra pints in the pub. Local chaps might bring in a giant potato or a mis-shapen carrot to be admired - these puzzle bottles would have been a navvy's passport to temporary comradeship. (Having known such people, or their 20th century successors, the 'lump' labourers, back in the day I'm entirely confident in my supposition although it doesn't feature in any of the literature.)

I've added a couple more images from the exhibition to my blipfolio. A remarkable Welsh quilt made by a tailor in Wrexham in the mid-18th century, featuring scenes from the Bible (Adam, Jonah) as well as exotic images and engineering feats such as the 1848 Cefn railway viaduct. And an example of boody ware which involved sticking pieces of broken pottery on to an existing object, in this case a tray, to create a sort of ceramic patchwork which would them be offered for sale. This one includes part of a china doll that stands proud in the centre. The tradition is only known to have existed in the north east and the south west of England in the 19th century: it might make you a few pennies from tourists or else brighten up your own dim cottage interior. Enjoy!