Deborah True Matias Viegener, Dave Burns & Austin Young Peter Bond Ayssar Arida Johnny Golding
Rosa Ainley Philippa Beale Helen Kerwan & Jane Madsen Eileen Simpson Sarah Ross
Mapping with Threads
A fundamental feature of my work is "psychogeography" . . . mapping the physical and mental landscape through the use of memory.
My interests lie in a narrative history, from both personal and general memory, and the way in which the two become interwoven to produce an enriched and complex fabric. Textiles are a guiding metaphor for my ideas and working practices. I use threads of interwoven memories as a vehicle of exploration to trace back, identify and give form to my inheritance by mapping both the physical and the abstract.
My research focuses on the East End of London, because it was the birthplace (Exmouth Street, Stepney 1881) of my grandfather. The 1881 Census record showed that a significant percentage of residents living in Exmouth Street, at the time that it was recorded, were employed in the garment trade. My great grandfather was born in Chaffcombe, Somerset, but like many of his neighbours in the East End had migrated to London.
In order to be able to map the location using oral history I embarked on a journey collecting oral testimonies from East Enders, who had had some involvement in the industry, limiting the location geographically to Spitalfields and its adjacent area and the period in question to the span of my grandfather's life (1881-1971). It was my aim to capture the nature and character of his world and to tell a story of the diverse cultural multiplicity of East End life.
To locate my investigations I chose two maps of the same geographical area, but from different periods in time. Each map explored the experiences of two immigrant groups who had settled in Spitalfields, the Jews and the Bangladeshis. I looked for answers to the questions: Why did the migrants settle in East London?; Why did they work in the garment industry? I visited Jewish and Bangladeshi community centres, where I interviewed individuals and organised reminiscence sessions in an endeavour to reach the authentic voice. The focus of these encounters was on the garment industry, which was recorded as primary source material.
My journey began by tracing the steps of my grandfather through the narrow cobbled streets of East London. As I walked in search of the history that has been imprinted onto the fabric of my mind through his experience, I discovered a patchwork quilt of interwoven cultural multiplicity . It has been estimated that between 1881, the year of his birth, and 1914 nearly three million Jews fled Eastern Europe.
The 1901 Census registers 95,425 'Russians and Poles' - which means the Russian and Polish Jews settled in Britain. In 1911 the numbers stood at 106,082. On top of this must be added approximately 20,000 German, Austrian, Dutch and Rumanian Jews who entered Britain by the turn of the century. (1)
The composition of London's Jewish community changed dramatically in the early 1880s, largely as a result of events in Russia. The government-sponsored pogroms, together with enforced military service, encouraged a steady flow of immigrants to seek sanctuary in the West. According to Professor Fishman, who is the grandson of an immigrant and the son of an East End tailor:
By 1850 the ghetto was firmly established around the focal point of Petticoat Lane with some offshoots extending into the narrow alley-ways beyond the confluence of the Whitechapel and Commercial Roads. (2)
By 1901 an estimated 80 percent of the 53,537 Russian Poles lived in East London, with a major concentration living as my grandfather's neighbours in Stepney.
Why then, did the Ashkenazim Jews settle in East London? I visited Nightingale House, a rest home for aged Jews, in South West London, where one woman said her parents had come over in about 1910 by boat to escape the pogroms. Her response was evidence that the River Thames and docks had been a significant physical feature contributing to the influx of Jewish immigrants into East London.
By 1890 each week there would arrive in London alone four regular ships from Hamburg, three from Bremen and from Rotterdam, and a Danish steamer direct from Libau (Liepaja) in Russian Latvia. (3)
She also had said that the newcomer usually went to someone that they knew for support. There was an established community of financially successful and sophisticated Sephardic Jews in the City of London, who could provide a supportive Jewish infrastructure for the newcomer.
Anglo-Jewry provided two centres offering ad hoc hospitality to the poor and weary 'greener'. Such were the Poor Jews' Temporary Shelter (established October 1885, in Leman Street near to the docks, and subsequently still operating in North London) and the Jewish Board of Guardians. (4)
After reading that middleclass Redbridge had been one of the areas of secondary settlement for Jews escaping from the East End, I visited Redbridge Jewish Community Centre to conduct a reminiscence session. I found numerous individuals, whose lives had been interwoven, either directly or indirectly, with the East End garment industry. One man explained how, after leaving school at the age of thirteen, he had gone to work in his father's East End workshop. The family business was in Commercial Road.
A board at the Jewish Museum displayed that by 1910 there were 125,000 Jews living in two square miles of the East End and nearly half were involved in tailoring. My aim was to discover from the sessions, why the garment industry had been the most popular trade for the Jewish immigrant. I asked him whether it had been his chosen career and his response demonstrated that there had been little choice in the matter! This occurred at a time of high unemployment and when few opportunities existed in the area for immigrants. His contribution to the family business had far greater social implications than providing employment in order for him to make a living. A system of networking amongst friends and families was commonplace amongst the Jewish community and presents further evidence of a Jewish infrastructure in operation. The division of labour that took place in the East End was also an indication of a cultural process in existence. The immigrants had created a ghetto in their own image.
... Commercial Street roughly divided the Jewish haunts of Petticoat Lane and Goulston Street from the rougher English quarter lying in the East. Now the Jews have flowed across the line; Hanbury Street, Fashion Street. Pelham Street. Booth Street, Old Montague Street, and many streets and lanes and alleys have fallen before them ... they live and crowd together and work and meet their fate independent of the great stream of London life surging around them. (5)
It is easy to understand why he worked in the garment industry, considering he was the second generation of an already established industry.
Stepping back in time to the arrival of his father and posing the same question, in the 1880s and 1890s the Ashkenazim Jews arrived with little money and few qualifications and it was relatively easy for an immigrant to turn their home into a workshop or 'sweatshop'.
The fascinating stories from the Jewish people that I met, told tales of working long hours for little financial reward. In spite of the harshness of their past existence, they spoke with both affection and an acceptance of it. The religious aspect of their life, which played a very big part in it, contributed to their attitude.
The Jew carried with him the Old Testament philosophy of earthly reward for labour and the right to make a profit, combined with the diasporic tradition of entrepreneurship. Economic activity was perceived as "part of the totality of man's religious experience in Jewish life". (6)
After disembarkation, the newly arrived Jews had limited options available to them. They took advantage of the situation by being as resourceful as they possibly could, given the circumstances in which they found themselves. The late nineteenth century Jewish garment industry was created out of a determination to survive and achieve social advancement.
I set out on my journey to St Hilda's Community Centre by walking along Brick Lane towards Bethnal Green. In spite of being in the heart of Bangla Town, it was impossible to ignore the palimsest that surrounded me, a text, which when read, spoke of overlapping stories from different places and times.
The meeting up, the coming into spatial proximity, of two worlds, two previously separate histories. (7)
St Hilda's caters for people from the Indian subcontinent and it was here that I hoped to interview elders from Bangladesh. My aim was to establish why, in the 1950s and early 1960s after the Jews moved away from the East End of London, the area became occupied by people from Bangladesh.
My grandfather told me stories about the ships from India that docked in East London: tales describing their rich and vibrant cargoes of fabrics and earth-coloured spices.
A small community of merchant seamen from Sylhet, a region of the Bengal delta, known as lascars, started to become established in the London dock area in the nineteenth century. These lascars laid the foundation for the expansion of the Bangladeshi population in the 1950s.
What then had caused the influx of immigrants to come in the fifties? A man at St Hilda's who had arrived in 1963, said that he came with a government employment voucher for Commonwealth citizens. The British government had followed a policy of recruiting overseas post war labour from colonial and ex-colonial territories.
During my visits to St Hilda's Community Centre I spoke to a variety of people. The prime reason given for their migration to Britain was consistent. In every case the motivation had been economic. The men from Bangladesh had originally come to Britain with the intention of earning money to either send or take home. It is easy to understand why the immigrants chose to migrate from one of the poorest countries in the world.
At the Bethnal Green end of Brick Lane mannequins stood proudly modelling leather designs offered in red, black or brown. I could not help but imagine the ghostly mannequins of a bygone era elegantly modelling furs. The demands of the fashion market in the 1960s led to the Jewish immigrants changing to leather manufacture.
They began to move away from the East End in the twenties, their out - migration was accelerated during the Second World War, using Professor Fishman's terminology, by "Hitler's Luftwaffe", which caused widespread destruction of the area.
Another factor that contributed to their evacuation was that the upwardly mobile third generation Jew took advantage of educational and training opportunities, which had been opened up for all by government legislation in an attempt to rebuild the post-war economy. The retired tailor at Redbridge, told me about his grandson, who had graduated from Cambridge, after having read law. His grandson had asked him, if he had ever wanted to pursue a career other than the rag trade. His response was that it wasn't a matter of choice! Business transfer from father to son was traditional for his generation. I learnt from the reminiscence sessions that the first successors after the Jews were from Pakistan.
These immigrants displayed entrepreneurial enthusiasm, which led to the growth of the leather trade. (8)
At St Hilda's I had hoped to discover why the second large scale influx of immigrants from Bangladesh continued to work in the garment Industry. A young woman who was born in Britain after her parents arrived in the sixties said that her father had worked in the garment industry. I inquired whether he had made garments in Bangladesh or was it because when he came, the workshops were already set up here. She informed me that he had arrived without qualifications and that there was also the issue of a communication barrier. Her response explained why her father, together with the elders I had spoken to, had found unskilled labour in the leather workshops.
By tracing the history of Spitalfields using the experiences and memories of the individuals that I had interviewed, I have gathered evidence to enable me to reach conclusions as to why the immigrant groups settled in East London and why they worked in the garment industry. In spite of the fact that the Jews and Bangladeshis arrived at different times, my investigations have shown that they shared similar circumstances. In the case of the Ashkenazim Jews, persecution and Tsardom were contributory factors that led to these already poor immigrants fleeing a country, which
... offered them nothing but alienation and diminishing economic opportunity . (9)
The prime reason given to me for their immigration to Britain by the men from Bangladesh was consistent. In every case the motivation had been economic. Both groups were poor immigrants whose main reason for migrating was to seek economic opportunity. They shared a common thread with my great grandfather whose motivation for coming to London was also to seek economic advancement. The geographical features of the River Thames and the docks, together with the unskilled employment offered by the garment industry, were significant in helping to map new economic opportunity for these poor immigrants to settle in East London.
In unravelling the threads of the history and background of the place where my grandfather lived, a fascinating picture has emerged of an intricately woven fabric of different societies, which have left such an impact on this part of London.
The research that I conducted found a visual form in the creation of the "Mapping with Threads Installation." I anticipated that the end result would position its participants as collaborators in a visual and auditory archive of material sourced by retrieving and reassembling a collection of fragmented memories and stories, in an endeavour to map the immaterial by following a physical path in East London.
Further distillation of my research and ideas was required in order to incorporate and communicate visually the stories I had collected about the garment industry. The interviewees had spoken in very general terms about the coats and suits that they made. In an effort to find out in greater detail what fabrics and designs were used during the period that I was concerned with, I visited the Jewish Museum and the London College of Fashion Library. By overlaying pattern diagrams that I had collected and enlarged to life size I embarked on drawing a map of the area, using only the patterns that related to the oral histories. Initially, it was my intention to represent the physical landmarks of the area literally, by editing the drawing until only the main roads and streets were identifiable. In spite of tracing some of the lines of the main thoroughfares by placing the pattern diagrams directly over them, as the work evolved it developed into something that I can only describe as a navigational chart.
My research had given me evidence to conclude that for centuries the East End of London had been the first point of entry for numerous immigrant groups. Considering the long and harrowing journeys that the immigrants travelled to reach their destination, I redrew the pattern diagrams using arrows of various types to indicate movement and migration. It was important for me to draw the arrows by hand to echo the nature of the industries enduring labour.
Through speaking to the many people it became apparent to me that a division of labour was used in the garment industry, whereby jobs were broken down into sections (section work) and the individuals were paid according to the number of pieces that they completed (piece work). To express the hard and arduous labour of the garment trade, I printed the pocket details of various garments onto piles of tissue paper because of the historical association it has with making clothes patterns. I then painted them with latex to map time with a degenerative material. The immigrants also created pockets within their own image in the form of ghettos. It was my intention for both the screen-printed map and the paper sculptures to communicate the repetition of labour.
I hoped that the viewer would read from the exhibit a story of migration, endurance and sweated labour that has been told by using the metaphor of the garment industry in East London.
(1)Fishman, William J., (1979). The Streets of East London , London: Gerald Duckworth
(2) Ibid
(3) Palmer, Alan, (2000). The East End: Four Centuries of London Life , London: JohnMurray
(4) Fishman, William J., (1979). The Streets of East London , London: Gerald Duckworth
(5) Booth, Charles, (1892-7). Life and Labour of the People of London , London
(6) Kershen, Anne J., ed., (1997). London: the promised land? The Migrant Experiencein a Capital City , Aldershot: Avebury
(7) Massey, Doreen, John Allen & Steve Pile, eds., (1999). City Worlds , London: Routledge
(8) Kershen, Anne J., ed., (1997). London: the promised land? The Migrant Experiencein a Capital City , Aldershot: Avebury
(9) Ibid
A fundamental feature of my work is “psychogeography”…..mapping the physical and mental landscape through the use of memory.
My interests lie in a narrative history, from both personal and general memory, and the way in which the two become interwoven to produce an enriched and complex fabric. Textiles are a guiding metaphor for my ideas and working practices. The language of textiles is used to create narrative. I use threads of interwoven memories as a vehicle of exploration to trace back, identify and give form to my inheritance by mapping both the physical and the abstract.
I have chosen to focus my research on the East End of London, because it was the birthplace (Exmouth Street, Stepney 1881) of my Grandfather, with whom I lived until I was eleven. It is my aim to capture the nature and character of his world and to tell a story of the diverse cultural multiplicity of East London.
Deborah True was born in London. She studied Visual Art at Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design and at Camberwell College of Arts. She is a practising artist whose interests lie in both personal and general memory and in the way the two become interwoven to produce a rich and complex fabric.
Her recent installations have used textiles as a metaphor for conveying her ideas, embodying both the physical and abstract aspects of inheritance. She currently teaches at Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design.
