Caroline Dear tying locally foraged grasses. Photo © Lydia Smith
Creating Hag
Kate Grenyer, Director of Fife Contemporary
Since I first moved to Fife, I have been fascinated by the history of the women persecuted in the witch trials in Scotland from 1563 onwards, and the moral panic and hysteria that accompanied them. It is particularly noticeable how close this period of history feels when you’re in Fife. From the grave of Lilias Adie at Torryburn to the story of the mob-murder of Janet Cornfoot at Pittenweem Harbour, the history of these times can feel very alive today.
In recent years, witches and their history have become a growing subject of fascination and anger amongst a new generation of women. Vocal and articulate campaigners are turning this anger into advocacy and pride through podcasts, new history books, updated research, and online campaigns. These have all contributed to making witches a talisman for modern women’s own stories of marginalisation and misogyny.
Intertwined with these conversations across history and time, is the story of Craft. In Scotland, 84% of those accused of witchcraft were women, often those with an independent and outspoken spirit, as well those who were of independent means. These were not wealthy or powerful women, but they were more capable and more knowledgeable than those around them, and this made people suspicious. Their financial independence and knowledge enabled their ability to be makers, whether of medicinal tinctures, or by spinning or weaving thread, or making pottery. They would also often be midwives, using matriarchal (and therefore unofficial) knowledge in support of other women.
Textiles in particular, were a common source of independent income amongst persecuted women, as was baking and other food preparation. This suspicion of women who make things continued long past the period of the witch trials, which ended in Scotland with the repeal of the Witchcraft Act in 1736, and continued in fairytale and myth. Think of the witch and her spinning wheel in Sleeping Beauty or the occupant of the gingerbread house in Hansel and Gretel. The mastery of a craft by women became characterised as an opportunity to trick and deceive, or for that craft to be used for ill. Knowledge and skill in the hands of women was and, in some places, continues to be seen as dangerous.
This connection felt like the kernel of an exhibition, but how to bring this together in a meaningful way?
When sitting and discussing potential exhibition ideas with jeweller Kate Pickering – someone known widely to understand, enable and empower others through making – we came across this shared interest in witches and began to discuss how this could be done. Storytelling through craft is a Pickering specialism, and as we worked on how to pull these ideas together, I set this challenge to her; can she curate an exhibition of women artists with the persecution of women in mind, and can she make it relevant to today? This fantastic exhibition is what she came back with; and it felt surprising, exciting and powerful.
The theme of the show had made her think of all the women craft artists she had learned from and admired throughout her own development as a maker. This, alongside the inspiration she drew from ‘A poem for all the Old Hags’ written and performed by actor Sarah MacGillivray, crystallised her ideas. She wanted to recognise that older women are still marginalised in our current visual culture and media and counter this by embracing the experience, knowledge, skill and wisdom that comes with many years of work towards the mastery of a craft.
The thirteen women invited to be part of this exhibition are some of the very best craft artists in Scotland. To make them more visible, we were delighted to be supported by The William Grant Foundation to commission the new photography found in this exhibition and catalogue. They were produced by another Scottish woman excelling in her creative field. When seen alongside the works, the portrait photography of Lydia Smith added a crucial new dimension to this exhibition and publication. This sensitive photography allows us all to experience the working spaces and practices of these artists at still greater depth by capturing them in the studios where their talents bring new work into the world.
Kate Pickering chose a title for the show that was as provocative and as challenging as the outspoken women from across history who prompted its use as an insult. When we first discussed it, ‘Hag.’ had the potential to be an off-putting, even insulting, title for this show. But the dogged intention to reclaim the narrative that has underpinned this entire project, meant ‘Hag.’ continued to feel right for the show as the exhibition planning and preparation progressed. Its ability to evoke both the marginalisation and the quiet and determined confidence of the women celebrated in this exhibition is what gives it its power. You may find it difficult, even offensive, but like the artists featured here it can’t and shouldn’t be ignored.
