What do you teach?

It’s a question I’m often asked, especially in relation to workshops like the one on Saturday.  I usually fudge some kind of an answer, because really, it’s not always easy to explain in a single word or phrase.  I have been known to teach all kinds of things (including children, who are not things at all!) but of late, most of my work with the WI centres on display skills.

What?

Depending on the scenario, it might be called “visual merchandising”, “window dressing”, “promotion”, “staging”, “exhibition skills” or simply, display.  It broadly involves putting together some kind of visual arrangement to tell a story or convey a message.  On Saturday, the workshop focused on promoting the WI, the Women’s Institute and a large number of enthusiastic women were eager to gather some new ideas to promote their own WI in their community, but also to increase their own skills and maybe feel inspired to learn more.

Because one of the few organisations still offering qualifications in “display skills” (or “Staging and Interpretation” is the WI.  Woohoo!  Last year, I worked with a professional colleague from the British Display Society to deliver a dozen or more workshops around the country, doing our best to inspire WI members to learn more and yesterday was a direct result of one of those days.

So, what is there to learn?

More than you’d think!  But as my WI had been invited to participate in a village event next month, here was a great opportunity to put something together for my demonstration which will be of real use.  So, after showing a few quick and easy ideas and one rather more elaborate design, I worked through my ideas for promoting Avening WI and put a tabletop display together.  This morning, I recreated the display on our kitchen table and photographed it so that my WI colleagues have something to refer to if I’m not there!

I began with our tablecloth.  We made it for a competition to celebrate the centenary of the WI in 2015 and it’s used at every meeting.  It’s just a panel of cloth which drapes over any size table and is the easiest means of identification.  It also gave me a colour palette to work with.

I was going to need some coloured paper for the backdrop so chose a few possibilities in the art shop last week.  Two of them were immediately rejected – the purple is too blue and not red enough, the yellowish green not yellowish enough.  So, I chose the blue-green sheet and used a Pritt stick to adhere it to a piece of foamcore board.

I use foamcore board a lot, because it’s cheap, easy to get from any art shop or Hobbycraft and being lightweight, it makes it simple to work with.  It cuts like butter with a knife, using a cutting mat and ruler and will stand straight and not bend.  What’s not to love!?

This was to be my backdrop then.  My apologies for the “real” backdrop of our kitchen wall which goes some way to illustrating the importance of having a backdrop to any arrangement.  The brain needs a visual clue to know where to stop; a kind of punctuation mark to set the limit of the arrangement and in my example, it’s this green board.

It’s held upright by means of two more pieces of foamcore with slots cut in them.

You know the kind of arrangement where two things slot together like this?  It works well and the whole thing is sturdy and won’t fall over in a breeze.

My next task is to design something to put on that background.  I’d normally choose a photograph; a close-up of something relevant, perhaps.  But on this occasion, I didn’t want to include a picture of someone recognisable and couldn’t quite decide what image would provide the best information about what Avening WI does.

I decided to make a “picture” from some words.  From a long list of words taken from our programme and website.  I decided it needed to be bigger than A4 though, so the challenge to print it began.  Though I could have taken it to the local print shop, time (and budget) was limited, so I decided to see what I could do about printing it in two parts.

Would it be acceptable?

Well, to tell the truth, I’m not sure.  For a quick demonstration/single use for an hour or so, perhaps.  But really, if I were going to use it over and again, I’d get it done properly. 

I printed it out at 50% opacity, so it wasn’t quite so dominant and used blutack to attach it to the backdrop.  I’d actually prefer to use sticky velcro pads to blutack, but knowing this arrangement would be taken down and repositioned, I didn’t want to risk damaging the paper and went for the “gentler” option.  It does need a good, hard press to keep the blutack in place though.

So far so good.

Oh yes, I’ve got a bit of spare foamcore to put over those supports to create a kind of shelf, which will also give me somewhere to add a bit of weight to hold the whole thing together.  I’ll cover it up later.

So, what story do I want to tell?  What important information about my WI might inspire women to come along and find out more?  Well, one thing about which we are very proud is that Avening WI was formed in 1930.  We have the minutes of the first meeting, too.  I decided that the minute book would prove a bit of a talking point and since there would be someone standing there the whole time, taking care of it, something precious like that was fine to include.  I added an old pair of specs as an accessory, but also as a visual clue to stop people turning the pages!

It fits nicely together and provides a bit of a starting point for the rest of the display.

What next?  A pink scarf not only covers up the foamcore “shelf”, but also draws the eye and links the backdrop to the front design on the tablecloth.

Maybe that’s where to continue the story and place a copy of our programme for the year? 

But how much information to include?  Should I add something about Gloucestershire Federation?  The many campaigns and opportunities for learning offered by our National Federation?  Something about Denman College?  At this point, I knew there was not room for everything, but perhaps there was a way around that?

All of that information is on our website of course, so I’ll simply include the address of that and print out an image of our header.

I was sure I could persuade our printer to print a long image if it was no wider than A4 but sadly, it resisted my efforts.  So, another join was needed.  Aaagh!  In my defence, I think it looked better in situ than it did in isolation.

Now, we were getting somewhere.  A bunch of pink tulips brought life to the arrangement and linked the colour, drawing the eye up from the tabletop to the web header image.  I added a WI centenary mug on the “shelf” and placed the programme alongside, thinking that it had obscured some of the label in the previous position.  I also added a small label backed with foamcore (of course) with the details of our next meeting, which provided a visual balance to the web header which was flying out to the left.

But I wanted something to tell of the 21st century WI, of capable and IT-literate women who embrace modern technology in style.  I also knew from my own experience that a “live” screen, however small, is a real eye catcher.  I retrieved an old mobile phone from the cupboard, accessed my WI website and took a screenshot of the most recent page.  I switched off the screensaver and, to make sure the battery would hold out, I plugged the phone into my little battery clutch bag.

Another change of plan with the mug and programme then, and the phone/battery bag were given centre stage on the shelf – actually the darkest spot of the arrangement, so a great place to put a light source.

Just a couple of finishing touches then – our national logo, an easy identifier and something we’d been chatting about the whole day.  I found the perfect place up there in the top corner.

The other thing was the usual invitation – important to include and a good means of balancing the arrangement too.

I didn’t include a copy of our monthly magazine (sent to members as part of the annual subscription) nor did I include our Avening WI newsheet (because that’s online to read, too).  I’m assuming that whoever stands by the table will have a ready supply of programmes to hand out and hope that any woman who visits the village tea party will feel tempted to find out more and maybe come along to a meeting.

Next one, “From Lamb to Loom” on June 8th at 7.30pm.   87 years later, the women of the village are still getting together on the second Thursday of the month in the Memorial Hall to enjoy an evening of fun and friendship!

Close to home

I know from experience that it’s possible to see the wonders of the world and yet miss equally interesting things rather closer to home.  But normal, not on holiday, life involves responsible grown up activity like supermarket shopping, laundry, cooking and cleaning and the idea of a morning “out” needs to be scheduled for some reason, however easy it might be to drop in somewhere on the way home from somewhere else.

So I’ll admit, it was earlier in the week that I made the suggestion to visit the local museum, prompted by a conversation I’d had with a friend at WI and reinforced by an email newsletter of local events I get every week (and normally just skim through before moving to the recycle bin).  That it took all of that nudging to persuade me to even consider a visit says it all, and my Hero’s response said the rest.

“too late to go Wednesday, not good on Thursday but I suppose we could go after doing the shopping on Friday”.   He didn’t actually add the phrase “if you really want to”, but it was implied.

OK.  I know, I could have gone alone but it’s better when there’s someone to mutter to, don’t you find, and it was too late to organise something with a friend.  Friday morning it was then.

Our local museum is in the park, which this morning was filled with families having fun, people playing tennis, a fun fair getting ready to open at lunchtime, a group of people on a day out and some extraordinary flowers.  The exhibition which my WI friend had recommended finishes this weekend, after which the space will be prepared and made ready for a rather larger annual event, the Select Festival.

The Scarlett Red Hare was sitting proudly outside the entrance.

Inside, we headed straight for the textile exhibition.  The work of Anglia Textile Works, celebrating their 20th birthday with work inspired by Laurie Lee’s Cider with Rosie and other pieces reflecting the red cloth made in and around Stroud. Why have textile artists from East Anglia created work on a theme based on Gloucestershire?  No idea!

 

Not everything was in tune with the theme, however, and as a result the whole exhibition lacked a bit of coherence.  For example, these panels hung side by side.  Some included clear references to the uniforms, having a line of immaculately stitched buttonholes, trims or graphical references to the process of creating the fabric with teasel motifs.  But others were on the Cider with Rosie theme and we couldn’t help but think they could have been hung to reflect this more effectively?

Pieces such as this one, by Sarah Impey and hung adjacent to those panels were a bit out on a limb, having no link with either Laurie Lee’s work nor the fabric of soldier’s uniforms.  that’s not to say we didn’t like it – it just didn’t seem to flow.

Actually, we have both seen Sarah Impey’s work before and have admired her ability to create such even lettering with a sewing machine.  All free-motion machine embroidery too – no computerised letters here (demonstrated by the slight variation in letter shapes – you knew we’d look closely, didn’t you?)

This morning, it was her work which stood out from the rest for us, including this “quilt”

which, on closer inspection, reveals more lettering.  Clearly, Sarah gets plenty of practice in using her sewing machine in this way.

For her work is instantly recognisable.

I’m glad my friend Di gave me the nudge to drop in here though.  There was some fine stitching, some really interesting pieces and whilst we were at the museum, well, we had to look around the rest, didn’t we?

The next room held a small exhibition about Halas and Batchelor, “the largest and most influential animation studio in Western Europe”.  Who knew they were in Stroud?  Not me!

Fascinating.  The best of local history, with a place to share memories too, for many people with a local connection had left their memories of working for the company and recollections of the people and their creations.

Elsewhere in the permanent exhibition, there were the familiar things we’d seen before, if some time ago.  Just as my hero commented “Wasn’t the lawn mower invented in Stroud?”, we stepped inside the room with the story of…you’ve guessed, accompanied by the unmistakeable soundtrack of the summer days of our childhood.  Whilst we were there, we witnessed one of those peculiar scenes of such places though: two women settled into a corner of one of the rooms, discussing their feet!  One of them had taken off her shoes and was describing the treatment offered by her chiropodist in detail, pointing out the variety of challenges the professional had faced.  Wonderful inspiration for the short story writer!

We carried on regardless into the next room, where we looked at one another and asked, what was that?!

Latest developments at the museum include redevelopment of the Walled Garden, which was looking beautiful.

Lovely planting, interesting walkways and beautifully sheltered too.

At the top of the steps there’s a new studio for hands-on activity and to one side, a traditional Auricula Theatre, with a small sign “the plants are not for sale and are here just for your enjoyment”

Walking back to the car park, past beautiful collections of tulips, we decided that we had enjoyed our visit very much indeed and asked ourselves the inevitable question.

“Why haven’t we been here for so long?”

A night at the opera

When we knew we were to be in St Petersburg for a few days, I consulted the Mariinsky Theatre website.  What might we go to see?  Amy had expressed an interest in seeing a ballet and I wasn’t too worried what I saw – I simply fancied going to the theatre to see a “real” show rather than some tourist compilation.  It seemed that we were in the city during the last few days of a ballet festival, but sadly none of the classics were to be performed and our choice was limited.

Prince Igor seemed a good choice though, for a real flavour of Russia!  I found a great website with seat advice – a kind of seatguru for the Mariinsky and booked the last four tickets together, which amazingly were on the front row and highly recommended.  I had a series of email confirmations in Russian, a phone call from my credit card company to check that I’d just made a transaction in Roubles and printed out the ticket pdf at home.

Though the theatre wasn’t so far from our hotel, we booked a car with Denis the concierge and so arrived in style in a black BMW 7 with Dmitry, our driver. 

“I’ll give you my card in case you want to leave early”, he said.  “You’ve chosen the long one”.

Well, yes, we had.  But our seats were fantastic and we settled in for the long haul, thanks to Amy’s little tin of fruit sweets purchased earlier in the day.  We’d hoped there would be a bar or at least some refreshment on offer, but sadly that was not the case.

The chairs were generally comfy enough, until the last hour or so!

The audience were mainly Russian, there were quite a few children in the audience and people were smartly dressed.  We felt we were part of an occasion.

The opera itself was grand – a little dated perhaps, but the spirit was there and the sentiment absolutely spot on for the moment.  Ah Russia!

Being able to see everything was key – I loved to watch the conductor (with his waist-length pony tail!) and the orchestra as well as the performers on stage.  That website was spot on advice, by the way.

But when the curtain came down after the last chorus, it was good to stand up and move!

Sure enough, Dmitry was there, right outside waiting for us and in no time at all we were back in the hotel for a nightcap in the bar named after the Tsar. 

The perfect way to spend our last night in St Petersburg, I think.

Palm Sunday

We had a terrific supper last night!  We’d asked Denis, the concierge for a recommendation for an alternative to the beef-stroganoff type Russian food we’ve enjoyed the last couple of nights.  His suggestion was ChaCha, a Georgian restaurant along the canal by the Church on the Spilled Blood.  Great idea – my hero and I were in Georgia thirty years ago and remembered the food as being almost as distinctive as the red wine from the region.  Secretly, we hoped the offering would be better than we remembered, for in those pre-Gorbachev days, the food was none too great.

Thankfully, ChaCha more than delivered and a series of shared plates just kept coming, each one full of the most delicious food, well cooked and extraordinarily tasty.  The whole place was great – few tourists and mostly locals, I’d guess; there was a jolly and laid back atmosphere and the prices…well, let’s say it was about half the price of a similar meal at home.

As we left, the church was looking gorgeous.

Back on Nevsky Prospekt, the Kazan Cathedral was looking similarly good.

We were back there this morning, Palm Sunday, not especially to join in a service, but to stand with the people, to absorb the very special atmosphere and listen to the chants from the choir standing high above us.  There is something rather emotional about being present in a Russian Orthodox service – somehow, in spite of all the comings and goings, the congregation manage to focus and  I appreciated being able to slip in and out unnoticed.  We noticed the ladies selling small bunches of pussywillow, sometimes wrapped together with a palm leaf outside the church this morning and as we walked around the city today, it seemed we were in the minority without one.

 

I’m not sure if it’s possible to make any accurate deduction about the numbers of churchgoers from that observation, but it would appear that the Russian Orthodox church is faring better in that respect than the Church of England right now.

Anyway, having made a couple of small purchases in the bookshop of Nevsky Prospekt, we walked down towards the Church on the Spilled Blood.

The souvenir stalls were all open for business but there were few customers about this morning.

Once inside, we stood back and took it all in again.  No less stunning than the first time we were here, those mosaics are simply magnificent.

This time, I was as interested in observing the people as I was looking up at the ceiling.

Though of course, I couldn’t resist taking the odd photo or ten of small details I hadn’t noticed previously.

I loved the floral decoration of the icons here, in celebration of the day.

An hour or so later, we were done.  We walked back along the canal, admiring the reflection in the water and noting how the temperature had risen in just the short time we’d been out.  Another lovely Spring day!

We’d planned a quiet afternoon: a late lunch and then maybe a swim.  Amy had booked manicures for the two of us and this evening, we have tickets for the opera at the Mariinsky Theatre.  Tomorrow, we head home after a few very special, memorable days here. 

But first, Prince Igor!

16000 steps later

Well, the weather couldn’t last, could it?  The home screen on my phone delivered the warning, even before I’d looked outside – sleet and snow, minus 3C.  OK.  We’d come prepared, so it wasn’t a worry and really, we’d had such luck so far.

Such weather demanded a satisfying breakfast, so I chose the syrniki again, as recommended by Valeriya yesterday.  Delicious!

Having sorted out arrangements for dinner tonight, we left the youngsters to spend the morning in the spa and set out to browse along Nevsky Prospekt.  One thing I’ve noticed here and there about the city are the memorials to people whose names I can’t read.  We can interpret most of them given time, though this one has defeated us so far.  What I noticed for the first time here was the small shelf beneath it, for flowers.  How sweet that this person is fondly remembered, then.

And how sad that just a few doors down, someone else whose name I can’t read remains unloved…for now, at least.

We’d bundled up in coats, hats, gloves and warm shoes, just like the rest of the population today, but as we walked, the rain stopped and except for the odd few flakes, the snow came to nought as well.  There was a chill wind blowing though.

There’s not much window shopping to be done here, since most everyday Russian shops have no outward facing displays at all.  But the souvenir shops make up for all of that.  How about this for a quiet and unassuming piece of jewellery?

Or a small wooden ornament to grace a corner of any home?

No, we didn’t think so either.

One bookstore had an interesting window display and for once, I could read the title!

A little further along, we came to the Stroganov Palace.  We’ve all enjoyed the dish bearing the family name in the last couple of days.

Following the lady street cleaner, we reflected on how good it is to be here and not have a set programme to follow.  We could stroll along here for as long as we fancied, go as far as we wanted and not worry about getting back on time or holding up the group.  It’s the first time that we’ve done that here and really, it made all those visa shenanigans worthwhile.

Anyway, here we were at the Kazan Cathedral again.  We’re just passing by today, since tomorrow we’ll spend longer here with Edward and Amy too.

Tempting though it is to cross the road and look in the old Singer store, we’ll stay on this side and wait till we come back on the other side to stop there.

Instead, we’ll wander through the arcade of the old department store instead.

Decide that no, I don’t need a fur hat!

And then go inside to remember how it was when we were here the first time – almost empty, save for a few, poor things which no-one wanted to buy.  Now, it’s full of small souvenir stalls and other tourist-related goods.  I stopped at one to buy a few postcards and we moved right along.

Crossing the road at this point involved a subway, where there was a news stand selling magazines – time to get Russian Vogue for Amy, then!

In the subway crossing we passed yet more souvenir stands.  Just how they all make a living is a mystery, especially at this time of the year when there appear to be virtually no tourists about at all other than the large groups, who wouldn’t be using the subway.  Still, if it wasn’t worthwhile, they’d shut up shop, wouldn’t they?

As we emerged from the gloom onto the other side of the street, we spotted a tiny patch of blue sky!  Woohoo!

Back past the Armenian Church then…

with another of those plaques that I can’t read, except that I know this one says “Armenian “ somewhere in there, and that it was by Queen Catherine’s architect – not that I can read his name.

And as a whiff of something familiar hits our noses, we knew we were near a Lush shop

Whilst my Hero made a quick dash down the street to size up our dinner restaurant location, I lingered a little longer by the canal, before slowly making my way over to the bookshop which is in the old Singer store across the road.  At last, I got to look inside!

Inside, I found postcards galore, including these sweet ones of the Romanovs.  They looked a little familiar and I was reminded of the family photos we saw in the Ukraine a few years ago.

A couple of doors down we found ourselves on familiar territory and made a small purchase before moving on to a rather different coffee shop/patisserie.

We decided that we should patronise a Russian coffee shop where possible, and settled ourselves into a comfy table at Severs where the hot chocolate and cookies were delicious.  We had half an hour before our arranged meeting time with Edward and Amy, so made use of the free wifi too!

We watched so many people stop and take photos of the polar bear in the window, we just had to take one ourselves, didn’t we?

So, they were there waiting for us as we hurried to our meeting place at the end of the bridge by the Hermitage.  Even though the rain and snow had stopped, the icy blast from the river made us shiver.

So over the bridge we went, heading for the St Peter and Paul Fortress on the island in the Neva.

Though it didn’t look very far, it’s a huge river and those bridges are long.  Not only that, but there was a fair way to go on the other side and another bridge to cross too.

From this side of the river, there’s a fine view of the Winter Palace and the Hermitage.

And there was a bit of fun there on the embankment by the Rostral Columns with “Peter the Great” (he gets everywhere) and Catherine having a giggle with a group of women and a wedding party taking selfies with glasses of something pretty strong in hand, judging from the raucous laughter.

The T shirt seller wasn’t doing much business though.

Two bridges down and just one to go.  At last, our target was in sight.

Not that it was easy to find our way in.

Edward and Amy even took a look along the beach for the entrance but no, that fortress was impenetrable.

 

At last, having retraced our steps and watched where other people were headed, we made our way in through a gateway around the other side.  Not easy!

 

And here was the map we’d needed about half an hour ago!

Once through the gateway, though, it was fairly straightforward to find our way.

We had a golden spire to aim for, of course.

And once we’d got our tickets (thank you, Amy!) we were in.  The Cathedral of St Peter and Paul, that is.

Ooo.  Lavishly decorated, just like the other cathedrals we’ve visited here, though in a rather more subdued palette of colours.

We’d come to see the Romanov’s memorial, the place to which their remains were brought in 1998, with the remains of their servants who were murdered alongside them.  Two names were missing though – Princess Marie and the Tsarevich Alexei.  Where were they?  The answer was given by a dear Russian lady who asked if she could answer any questions for us and who used her very best English to explain that their remains are still in testing and maybe – who knows – next year, they too will be brought here.

The subdued Romanov memorial was in contrast to the other, more elaborate white marble tombs arranged in the body of the church.  Most were fairly anonymous, save for a nameplate, though Marie, the Danish mother of the last Tsar and sister of our own Queen Alexandra had a small personal memorial by her tomb.

The most prestigious spots by the altar and overshadowed by gold and flowers were where the tombs of Peter the Great, his wife Catherine and Empress Catherine II were to be found.  Peter the Great’s tomb had been adorned with a variety of posthumous medals and awards and an explanation of these was to be found nearby.

It might have been a quiet spot in some respects but the decor was anything but.

The gold stretched into the spire as far as the eye could see.

And the whole altar was filled with icons and other gold statuary.  Wow.

But strange as it might seem, having taken so long to get here, we felt that was it.  We’d seen what we had come to see – and there wasn’t as much of that as we’d imagined. Never mind.  We were happy to have been here and now, it was time to move on!

And look!  the weather has cheered up!

Whilst my hero and his boy went to take a look at the Aurora, Amy and I decided we didn’t need to see a warship and returned to the hotel.  Walking along the embankment on the opposite side of the river, we could see where we had been.

We’d walked miles – and how pleasing a sight it when our hotel came into view.  Footsore and feeling very weary indeed, we were glad that there were young men to open doors for us, because even that might have taken more energy than we could muster at that point.

An hour in the spa recharged the batteries, of course!