Dan Cruickshank and the House That Wouldn't Die - (3 of 3)

Dennis Severs' House - 18 Folgate Street ...Wonder House ... Historical Time Capsule ...

Dennis Severs' House, 18 Folgate Street is a Georgian terraced house in Spitalfields, London, England. From 1979 to 1999 it was lived in by Dennis Severs, who gradually recreated the rooms as a time capsule in the style of former centuries. It is now open to the public.



Dennis Severs' House is a time capsule attraction in which visitors are immersed in a unique form of theatre. The ten rooms of this original Hugeuenot house have been decked out to recreate snapshots of life in Spitalfields between 1724 and 1914. An escorted tour through the compelling 'still-life drama', as American creator Dennis Severs put it, takes you through the cellar, kitchen, dining room, smoking room and upstairs to the bedrooms. With hearth and candles burning, smells lingering and objects scattered apparently haphazardly, it feels as though the inhabitants had deserted the rooms only moments before. The Dennis Severs House tour is unsuitable for children as tours are conducted in silence.



Once upon a time, David Milne used to arrange all the old things from his parents’ house in the attic of their home to create his own world of play. David is pictured here in the attic of Dennis Severs’ House in Folgate St where today, as curator of the house, it is his job to arrange things – both in the general sense of maintaining every aspect of the property and also in the specific sense of arranging all the myriad objects that fill these crowded rooms.
Yet the success of David’s arrangements renders his labour invisible, since when you come upon the artifacts occupying these rooms, everything appears to have occurred naturally in the course of the daily life of the fictional inhabitants. But very little is accidental in this house of mysteries, because everything has been arranged to tell a story, and making those arrangements is David’s tour de force and his life’s passion too.
“I think I have a good understanding of what the life of a servant must have been like, except I am the servant to an imaginary family,” David confided to me after years of cleaning and polishing. Widening his eyes significantly as he revealed his qualification, “though I am a very taxing master – because everything has to be right.” and underlining the statement with such a stern glance that I almost felt pity for him, suffering such an exacting scrupulous employer.
I recognised the glance from when David instructed me to hold silence upon my arrival at the house, when I came to visit during a public opening. It was a look of such gravity that it ensured silence reigned throughout the property, no-one dared utter a word in the face of such an authoritative visage. Yet this hauteur only serves to emphasise the unexpected radiance of his smile when you greet him off duty, because the evocation of fantasy at 18 Folgate St is a serious business and David understands his dignified responsibility to set a certain tone whilst at work. It is an onerous duty that magistrates, members of the clergy, footmen and the guards at Buckingham Palace will recognise, and one which David has perfected to an art.
David discovered 18 Folgate St in his early twenties when was exploring London by following the medieval street plan and he came upon Norton Folgate while walking up through Shoreditch. He peered through the lattice-work of the dining window and spied the baroque interior. “Spitalfields at that time was dark and faded, as if the eighteenth century inhabitants had simply locked their doors and gone, and because I had seen into one of the houses, my imagination created the stories in all the others.” he told me, recalling the moment with delight.
With characteristic rigor, David decided that he would never pay to visit the house, because he knew at once that his involvement had to be more than a tour. Fortuitously, years later, he was invited to a party in the East End and found himself back outside 18 Folgate St. As he explained to me, “I came into this house, walked up to the first floor where Dennis Severs was sitting in the Smoking Room holding court with his circle of friends, and I asked him, ‘Whose house is it?’ and he said, ‘It’s mine!’ And from that moment we were friends, speaking on the telephone every day until two weeks before his death. I never came to this house to strip it down, I never asked questions, I never asked ‘Why?’ I just accepted it as his beautiful creation.”
David lives in a tiny modern flat built upon the roof of a Victorian stucco mansion block in Earls Court, that he has furnished with seventeenth century furniture and lit entirely by candlelight – like a cabinet of curiosities – existing in a manner that is completely in tune with the ambience of Folgate St. “When you live with candlelight, you learn how to use it.” David told me, “You don’t arrange your candles evenly in the room and all at the same height, as people commonly do. You place them strategically. For example, in the kitchen here, there is a low candle on the table where the cook was studying a recipe book. I like to place things together in the manner of ‘still life’ and I love the light of seventeenth century paintings, you see it everywhere in this house.”
I realised how unusual it was for David to sit and talk, because his job consists primarily of housework, revealed by the long apron that is his professional uniform. All four storeys, staircases and rooms, are cleaned twice a week, the silver, brass and copper are polished every fortnight, floors and furniture are waxed annually, bed and table linen are laundered and starched regularly, and dusting is a continuous activity. Additionally, the food is prepared daily, with the master’s breakfast cooked every morning, and tea and coffee freshly brewed. It takes all day, while the house is closed, to prepare it to open for visitors, because even maintaining imaginary inhabitants in the patina to which they have become accustomed takes a lot of work.
As with Mick Pedroli, house manager, David Milne’s involvement in the house is personal, rooted in his friendship with Dennis Severs, which ultimately led to his lifelong commitment to the vision which the house manifests. ”I used to come and stay regularly, and Dennis and I used to play together, cooking meals and taking photographs. I spent twelve Christmases in this house. When Dennis died, I decided to step up and take on the house because it needed people who understand it. Now I am waiting for the right person to walk through the door, one day, who can do my job.” said David, getting lost in thought, gazing fondly around the artfully dilapidated Dickensian attic where he stayed when he first came to visit for weekends at Dennis Severs’ extraordinary house so many years ago, “It’s a story that’s never-ending.”
(from the blog: "Spitalfields Life Daily" ...July 24, 2010
by the gentle author )

Musical Notes Tattoos

Recently I was having a conversation with a musician who said he wanted to get Musical Notes tattoed on his body but he also pointed out he don't want to do it just like "everyone else's". What he emant by that is that he noticed many people would actually get random notes all over the place and he wants his to actually say something even though not too many people know how to "read them". He said he wanted something that he can be proud of and at the same time a high quality custom made work. I gave him some advice about who to go to and also reminded him to look for an artist that can deliver quality and not quantity for a cheap price. I also told him to speak to the artist about him wanting a creative job instead of just plain notes. I learned a lot about my musician friend that actually made me think about something not too many people care about or simply focus on.

Musical Notes Tattoos

Recently I was having a conversation with a musician who said he wanted to get Musical Notes tattoed on his body but he also pointed out he don't want to do it just like "everyone else's". What he emant by that is that he noticed many people would actually get random notes all over the place and he wants his to actually say something even though not too many people know how to "read them". He said he wanted something that he can be proud of and at the same time a high quality custom made work. I gave him some advice about who to go to and also reminded him to look for an artist that can deliver quality and not quantity for a cheap price. I also told him to speak to the artist about him wanting a creative job instead of just plain notes. I learned a lot about my musician friend that actually made me think about something not too many people care about or simply focus on.

"Remains of the day" ... Direct reportage of daily clothing

With the help of my wife, I will be able to, now and then, offer some "snapshots" of my daily "tweedy composed landscapes" ...
In this one .... the unique quality of a Cording's "tweed" texture ... offer us all the associations ...
All this garments have their own "stories" ... because they were purchased in different opportunities of friendly prices ... As a matter of fact most of my Vintage tweeds were acquired "second hand" in a time when it was still possible to do it, before the systematization of "the Vintage"...

The "DEMOB" Suit and the developement of mass production in tailoring

Returning home at the end of Second World War, men were offered by demobilisation a three piece suit, which became known as the "demob suit" ...

This played an very strong role in the increasing of mass production tailoring ...

Burton, a clothing company, produced one third of all the demob suits, and even originated the popular expression ... the full monty ...("a full three-piece suit with waistcoat and a spare pair of trousers (as opposed to a standard two-piece suit) from the Leeds-based British tailors Montague Burton. When the British forces were demobilised after WWII, they were issued with a "demob suit". The contract for supplying these suits was fulfilled by Montague Burton, so the complete suit of clothes issued to the servicemen was known as "the full Monty".)











The Company was founded by Montague Burton in Chesterfield in 1903 under the name of The Cross-Tailoring Company. It was first listed on the London Stock Exchange in 1929 by which time it had 400 stores, factories and mills.



The Burton Company archives are held at West Yorkshire Archive Service, Leeds.



The Company had a large factory in Leeds which was visited by the Princess Royal in 1934.



After World War II Montague Burton offered men the chance to buy a full suit, which included jacket, trousers, waistcoat, shirt and underwear and became known as 'The Full Monty'.









Around 10,000 people worked on the site, producing over 30,000 suits a week. Burton was the biggest employer in Leeds.



Hudson Road was the heart of Montague Burton's empire. He chose Leeds because it was the centre of Britain’s textile industry and so he had access to skilled tailors and machinists.

Burton’s secret was to offer high-quality made-to-measure suits at low prices. "A five guinea suit for 55 shillings", was Burton’s promise.







Men would start work at 14 years of age as barrow boys, then be apprenticed as tailors or cutters.



However, men were outnumbered 10 to one by women. There were vast workrooms of machinists, with whole families working on the same production line.

The factory was described by former tailor, Sam Bernstein, as "a town in itself".

Burton made every effort to keep his staff happy - Hudson Road had the largest works canteen in the world, along with a pre-welfare state health and pension scheme.

Free dentists, chiropodists and even sun-ray treatment were provided for factory staff.











At the end of the Second World War, all servicemen returning home were issued with a set of civilian clothing, including a three piece suit. Many of the suits were made by the Leeds firm of Burtons. This was founded at the start of the 20th century by a Lithuanian Russian migrant Jew, Montague Burton (1885-1952), who initially established shops selling bespoke and ready-to-wear suits in Sheffield and Mansfield. As the business expanded Leeds became the manufacturing centre for the company. Montague Burton was knighted for services to industry in 1931, going on to endow chairs at several universities, including Leeds.

During the Second World War Burton's firm made a quarter of all British military uniforms. After the war Burtons continued as a successful business selling men's suits and clothing.

The Nautical Star

The five-pointed Nautical Star of mariner’s charts is found on the compass rose, straight up, at the North position. Somewhere back in the salty mists of time it represented the North Star, also known as Polaris, which was so crucial to navigation. Today it is a tattoo symbol that harkens back to finding one’s way home and the luck that it sometimes takes to get there. The Nautical Star tattoo can be big, small, two colors, one color–pretty versatile really.
Who gets it? This is a tattoo symbol that is absolutely raging in popularity right now, especially among young hipsters who dig the nautical/retro feel. Who has it? Mark McGrath (lead singer of Sugar Ray) has a blue one on his left elbow. Where should you get it? The elbow is a classic placement of the Nautical Star, like Mark McGrath, but they also tend to occur in pairs, on either side of the chest or the insides of the forearms. Because it’s a essentially a bunch of straight lines though, it lies and looks best on relatively flat areas. Why should you get it? You’ll never have to pull over and ask for directions again.
Although you might not have found your perfect tattoo in the list above, you are no doubt starting to visualize one. As you continue on your journey to that final result, make your own top ten list of the greatest tattoos and keep revising it. In time, you may find that you’ll have a tattoo, one that’s just right for you, instead of just thinking about it for another decade.