Shane Waltener

The 26,000 2003 (work in progress)

Suspended nylon crochet comprising 26,000 knots, Ø2m

anonymous bodies

Somehow the Tudors had inserted themselves into the constitution of the universe. They were part of the pattern and they made themselves indispensable. If they were to be preserved, it had to be as part of this pattern.

EMW Tillyard, The Elizabethan World Picture, 1943

Continuity and order were highly prized in the renaissance worldview. The Great Chain of Being, containing within it a precise ranking for every minutiae, from God himself down to the pebble, was widely accepted as visible evidence of a divine design for living.

Symmetrical knot motifs were popular throughout the period, appearing in gardens, architecture, art and needlework. The knot of many strands, all harmoniously linking and co-existing, was an ideal, a demonstration of the divine benevolence of the almighty.

Women of every class practised the laborious work of lace making and many chose to spend such time in the silent company of others, all concentrating, remembering and counting. But the anonymous women, who toiled for up to ten hours to create lace so intricate it measured less than a square inch, worked not for pleasure, but to keep their families fed and clothed. These women regularly lost their sight working patterns by candlelight and, once blind, their role as provider ceased to exist. The patterns they recreated were made famous through their connection to noble families and their publication in needle work books of the day.

The basic design of the knot garden and the choice of plants used contained encoded references for the consumption of the contemporary population: the ÔprimateÕ of the plant world was the oak tree, while the noblest flower was the rose. The lion was deemed king of the beasts and the eagle was placed first among birds. It was no accident that Elizabeth I, as the monarch placed between God and mankind, was so often painted surrounded by such visual cues to her own greatness.

Buried within the limited space of the St Mary-at-Lambeth grounds are approximately 26,000 human bodies. Over the past 700 years, the churchyard has risen by over a metre and the soil is rich. Occasionally the museum gardeners come across a human knuckle or tooth as they prepare the soil for new bulbs.

© Jordan Kaplan, 2003, Exhumed, Parabola Press