Anne Boleyn, Henry VIII’s second wife, was beheaded at his command on the 19^th May 1536.  Though much has been written about her since then, very few indisputable facts about her life remain.  Even her date of birth and her appearance is the subject of speculation.  The paintings of her that are still in existence, were painted during Queen Elizabeth’s reign and cannot be relied upon as a true record.  There are two sketches by Holbein that were subsequently labelled with her name, but  this increases the confusion as they depict two very different sitters.

The only undisputed portrait of Anne Boleyn is on a 38mm lead disc, is in storage at the British Museum. Known as ‘The Moost Happi medal’ it was made as a prototype in 1534, in anticipation of the birth of a male heir.  However, the pregnancy was unsuccessful and the commission was abandoned.  Anne’s position as Queen of England became less assured thereafter.

 

 

Although the medal is acknowledged as the only contemporary portrayal of Anne Boleyn, its value is often overlooked. The softness of the lead has allowed some of the details to be compressed and eroded, especially those areas which were the most raised such as her nose and forehead.  Historian G.W.Bernard states that “the medal is consequently not that helpful as an indication of her appearance”  (1). 

 

Reconstruction

My interest in Anne Boleyn had grown over the last few years, since having chanced on a biography of Henry VIII.  Initially I was appalled by the seeming awfulness of his second wife, and was motivated to research her character in greater depth.  I found the available evidence to be tantalisingly contradictory, and desperately wanted to know more. 

My professional background is as a stonecarver, specialised in making carefully researched reconstructions for restoration projects.  I looked at images of the medal and saw that though damaged, it still held a wealth of information.  Out of my own curiosity, I decided to rebuild these features and thereby give a face once again to Anne Boleyn.

I was given access to the medal at the British Museum and, wearing protective gloves, I was able to examine it under close magnification.  I recorded my observations in detailed notes and annotated sketches.  I felt very privileged to be so close to an object which may have been handled by Anne herself, and was extremely excited by my findings.

Back in my workshop I scaled up a front-on photograph of the medal to four times its original size. I traced every visible detail to make a layout which then gave me the accurate dimensions to work from. Using a needle I pricked along every line in the layout to transfer the design onto a wax disc, and  modelled the different contours of relief form based on my notes and sketches.

It was a technically difficult task.  I needed strong light to work by and this caused the wax to soften.  This meant that  the areas that I had already completed were vulnerable as my hands hovered above, working on a different area.  This problem was resolved by putting the model into the freezer every time the wax  became too soft.  I was full of admiration for the skill of original artist who worked on a smaller scale, without decent lighting or magnification.

 

Reproduction

With great care I took the wax model  to leading  mould-maker, Steve Cole of Articole Studios, so that it could be recreated in a more durable material.  He coated it in silicon rubber to make a negative form from which further copies could be cast with great accuracy.

When I saw the first plaster copy I fretted over minor details and decided to rework these.  Keeping the original plaster prototype, I got Steve to make a second copy which I then refined using tiny engraving tools.  From this a second mould was made and cast.  The features of the second version were more delicate, but refining them gave the medal a Classical appearance.   I decided to stick with the first version as the immediacy of  the modelling was closer in spirit to a 16^th century artefact.  

Individually made copies of my reconstruction are made by Steve Cole in cold-cast bronze resin.  These can be ordered through my website.

 

The medal considered in a wider context.

Having studied the medal in great depth at the British Museum,  and reconstructed the details myself,  I recognised elements in the medal depicted in paintings of the other wives of Henry VIII.  The best comparison is  Holbein’s portrait of Anne’s successor, Jane Seymour.    Within Holbein’s portrait we can see the same diagonally woven cloth of the headdress that is in the medal.  The sequence of jewels on the gable hood, and in the necklace is the same.  The necklace is also depicted in portraits of his subsequent queens (2).

The fact that the details of the queens attire appear have been reproduced so precisely in the ‘Moost Happi medal’ suggests that the portrait was made with considerable skill and attention to detail.  My view is that, despite the damage to some parts of the portrait, it retains a wealth of information.  That  the costume is so well depicted suggests that the features of the face are likely to have  been equally well observed. 

One could argue that the medal sculptor might have had longer access to the costume than to the queen herself. However, Anne Boleyn was known to have been fastidious about the presentation of her image (3), and I do not believe that her features would have been recorded carelessly. 

In summary,  we can deduce that Anne Boleyn clearly had a long face with high cheek bones, and a prominent chin.  Though Anne Boleyn wasn’t considered a beauty in her time, the medal presents an image of strong and sensual femininity.

 

References

(1) Anne Boleyn – Fatal Attractions, Appendix, page 196.

(2) The cross worn by Anne Boleyn in the medal is replaced by pendant with two jewels above a suspended pearl drop. (Worn by Jane Seymour  and Catherine Howard, both in portraits by Holbein, and by Anne Boleyn in the Nidd Hall portrait - although it has been suggested that the painting was of  Jane Seymour, and reworked to satisfy Elizabethan demand). 

A pendant with  a three jewels and a pearl drop adorns the familiar necklace in painting of Catherine Parr and Lady Jane Grey.   However, as it is unlikely that Lady Jane Grey would have had access to these jewels during her short reign, the portraits have lately been reattributed to Catherine Parr. See Nidd Hall Portrait of Anne Boleyn, Holbein’s portrait of Catherine Howard, Melton Constable portrait of Catherine Parr, and portrait once attributed as Lady Jane Grey, below.

(3) See Eric Ives “The Life and Death of Anne Boleyn”, ‘Image’chap 15, and ‘Art and Taste’ chap 16.

 

This is what I have been working on since coming back from New Zealand. 

I had made the clay models for the Madonna and Child figure, and St Christopher before I went, but after having been in such a different, and modern, culture it took me a while to get back into a medieval sensibility. 

To get back into the workshop saddle I shaped a stone whose outline I had initially cut as a technical example for students on one of my workshops.  This was 5 years ago when I was pregnant with Katinka.  I like the earthy feel that the colour and texture of Clipsham stone gives the piece, and I think the forms are definitely influenced by the sea rounded bones that I collected on the beaches in NZ.

The voluptuousness of this piece spilled over into the first Madonna and Child that I cut, and she became a larger and earthier figure than I intended.  Normally I stick rigidly to a design which had been agreed with my client, but because this is not a commissioned piece, I had the freedom to veer which was interesting, and enjoyable.  Nevertheless I pulled in my reins for the second version and stuck more closely to the clay model, trying to attain a more graceful feel.

I am very much enjoying working on St Christopher.  Even now in these broad shapes I can see a relationship emerging, a feeling of tenderness, between the form of the man and the child leaning against his shoulder.  (Such as worked with the two carvings of Mary Magdalene and St Peter). There is always an anxiousness not to lose these tentative expressions, or not to overstate and kill them, but that's the excitement and enjoyableness of creating form.

Stone Carving  on Channel 4’s TIME TEAM: 

 Lucy Churchill’s blog post about the experience.

Series 19, Episode 7.   To be televised: Sunday 4^th March 2012, 6pm.

In May 2011 Time Team  excavated the site of Earl’s Colne Priory in Essex.  The Priory was destroyed by Henry V111 during the Dissolution of the Monasteries in 1536, and it’s contents were looted and dispersed.  It was hoped that excavation would recover lost information about the buildings, and possibly some artefacts.

Several  alabaster tombs commemorating members of the de Vere family,  were taken from the Priory when it was demolished, and  later re-housed in St Stephen’s Chapel, Bures, Essex.  My part of the project was to look at the monuments with presenter Alex Langland,  to teach him the rudiments of stone carving, and to recreate a small piece of carving to demonstrate the labour involved.   It was a lot of work to cram into 2 days filming, and so much preparation was required beforehand. 

I went to St Stephen’s Chapel to examine the tombs and see what I might be able to recreate during the time available.   I was awe-struck by the experience.  The chapel is on a remote hillside, and the alabaster figures lay in the dark stillness, beautifully serene. The only sound I heard all day was the call of a cuckoo, and as I sketched the figures  I watched a spider making a web between the knight’s nose and his folded hands.  It was a deeply peaceful  and  pleasurable experience.

Memorials such as these were commissioned as a display of high status and virtue, and were covered in significant details for the viewer to decode.  The de Vere family had a history of supporting the monarchy in battles and on crusades, and much symbolism was to do with wealth, power and devotion.   I poured over the tombs trying to place each reference;  some were obvious but others required further research.  I particularly enjoyed deciphering the broken fragments of script on Sir Richard de Vere’s helmet and sword.

Even the finest details of the  knight’s  armour was carved with precision, including the delicate chainmail under-suit, and ornate buckles and straps.  You can see the finger nails, and also the ‘knuckle-dusters’ he is wearing on his hands held in prayer.  His wife, Alice de Vere, is wearing a strange and intricate headdress perched on her high plucked forehead.   Small fragments of pigment show that parts of the memorial were once been richly painted; red, blue and gold.  Not only is their wealth demonstrated through the depiction of  their rich clothing, but by the fact that they could pay  highly skilled craftspeople to record such intricate details.

The  alabaster figures are covered with incised graffiti;  initials, dates (the earliest being 1532), and most intriguingly, pentagrams.  I later discovered that early Christians used this symbol to represent the five wounds of Christ.  Given that some of these scratchings predated the dissolution of the priory,  it seems as the graffiti  was not a mark of disrespect, but something a pilgrim might do – like lighting a votive candle, or dropping a coin into a well.  

The producer of Time Team had suggested that I should recreate a shield-bearing angel from one of the tomb’s panels.  However,  my eye was caught by a three-dimensional  boar  on top of the helmet,  which lay beneath the head of Sir Richard de Vere.  As hunting and eating wild boar was an aristocratic pursuit, this animal symbolised bravery and largesse.  It is likely that the stone carver had little contact with these beasts as even though the form is very lifelike,  it looks more like a plump pig than a boar.  Perhaps to give vigour and virility to the crest, the animals’ genitalia are depicted with  great detail.

The boar’s head was broken off,  so while at the chapel I modelled  a new head in soft wax, working directly onto the stone.  This helped me to get a better sense of the carvings original appearance.  I took many photographs and measurements, and made sketches, which I used later to make templates to work from. 

The De Vere tombs are made from English Alabaster, a cheap alternative to marble during the mediaeval times.  However demand for alabaster declined after the Reformation when the production of religious icons fell, and marble become cheaper to import for funeral sculpture.  At the end of the 20thC it became more profitable for English quarries to blast the stone out of the ground to make plaster. 

Michael and Nigel Owen, stone merchants in Northamptonshire, hold the last stock of English Alabaster.   Unfortunately the remaining pieces are tiny, so I could only buy a small panel suitable for my project with Alex.  I bought a larger block of Italian alabaster for the boar, but even this stone is in short supply and the dimensions had to be scaled down.  The preparations were now complete, and I was ready for action.

On the first morning Alex Langland and I were filmed at St Stephen’s Chapel.  It was a strange contrast to my previous visit; then the only illumination had been sunlight coming through the windows, moving slowly across the monuments over the course of the day.  Now the chapel was filled with bright lights and equipment and the bustle of a tight schedule.  Again and again Alex and I were directed to burst through the door,  and I had to try and recreate my initial awe on seeing the alabaster figures.  I’m not a very convincing liar so I probably blushed throughout.  It was fascinating to see the amount of work involved in making such a program.

The rest of the day was spent showing Alex stone working techniques, and guiding him as he carved a star (another emblem of the de Vere family) into the small square of English alabaster.  Not having a television I was unfamiliar with Alex Langland; I thought that having done a bit of televisual chipping, he would disappear  leaving me to finish the product.  However he was naturally very skillful and applied himself to completing the piece, even after the film crew had moved on.  I was genuinely impressed

My background is as a restoration carver, and I am trained to recreate objects with great accuracy.  However because of the limited time schedule, I had to put aside the time consuming process of cross-referencing.  As I had studied the original in such detail I  threw myself into the carving and worked largely from memory.  

By the time the light faded and filming had to come to an end, a credible carving of the heraldic boar had been achieved.  Paul Whight, the owner of Earl’s Colne Priory, had watched the work in progress and promptly bought the sculpture.  It's there now, in place of the alabaster tombs - I hope that the original stone carver would approve.

More about Time Team:   http:// ww.timeteamdigital.com/w

More about St Stephen’s Chapel:   

http://www.bures-online.co.uk/chapel/chapel_barn.htm

More about Lucy Churchill:    http://www.lucychurchill.com/

(See new website early February)

Ok everybody, if you see this and have an opinion, and the time, let me know what you think:

The 4 examples have different eyeballs - which one do you think works best?
I want to use the friendliest image.

Any feedback welcome, be as honest as you can!
Many thanks, Lucy

After I modeled the maquette in clay, I sketched it from all 4 sides, taking accurate measurements from the model.  This means that I will be able to draw the outline onto the block and confidently chop out the excess stone.   After that, I will carve freely without refering to the design, but in the early stages, it's pretty crucial to make careful measurements (if you want to reproduce an existing design accurately).  You will be able to play spot the difference later!  ;>)

I decided not to brave the frozen wastes of my workshop this week, and opted intstead to model a maquette for the carving that I am going to do after I have finished the Mother and Child....
Here are a couple of photos of it.... btw - the chopstick will be replaced by a staff when carved in stone :>)

Alas, I haven't got further with my Mother and Child project than masoning out the blocks of stone with my angle grinder.  That was fun - working in a gazebo during last week's lashing rain and high winds :>/ 

This week I have been working on finalising the details for next year's Stone Carving Workshops... hopefully I will be able to announce the dates and new venue in the next few days.  It's been fun researching potential locations with Simon Durant... he has come on so many of the workshops that he has now become management.  It's good having him biting at my heels as I would rather carve all day and not think of the morrow.  Anyway, watch this space for news :>)

I started the day by going to see my youngest daughter's Christmas festival at her kindergarten.  It had live tableaus - the staff dressed up as shepherds, kings etc, and the climax was a real baby wrapped up and laid in the crib (one of the kindergarten kid's new sibling). It took me by surprise, and it moved me alot.

I had already planned to spend my workday modelling a madonna and child in clay.  My intention was to base the sculpture on the Anglo Saxon saint figures that I carved previously for a client.  However, I think that morning's live tableaus seeped into me, and instead I veered 'off road'.   Instead of making a historically accurate figure, I modelled something that was much more personal and modern in style.  Not that all my past thinking and observations were wasted, just held more freely... I hope that the finished carving will ring many bells.