In the northern hemisphere* December marks not only the darkest period of the year but also that moment when light begins to return: following the Winter Solstice our days start to get a little longer, and a little brighter.
And in December 2020 not just astronomically, but metaphorically.
Midwinter 2020 symbolising a moment when a particularly dark year, a particularly dark period, starts to get a little brighter, a moment when a little more light will start to slowly seep into our days, weeks, months, lives: and not just because of that, but also; nor just because of that, but also; and, yes, also because of that. But definitely not because of that.
And so by way of celebrating a particularly notable Midwinter, a Radio smow playlist devoted to one of the earliest objects to make artificial light manageable and functional, and thus one of the earliest objects to literally bring a little more light into our lives, to literally aid making our lives a little brighter.......
As oft noted in these dispatches, whereas with fire early peoples had a source of artificial light, it wasn't a readily managed source, and certainly wasn't readily transportable; first with the development of torches constructed from woods and grasses did light become something that we could actively control. And became more so as we understood that oils and fats not only burned slower than grass and wood, but did so in a manner that aided and abetted their active control.
The first illuminating objects to employ the properties of oils and fats, and thus, arguably, the first truly manageable and functional artificial lighting devices would have been oil lamps, an object developed independently across geographies and cultures, before over time those same cultures developed candles; if one so will placed the wick inside a solid energy source rather than dipping it in a fluid source. A development that made light even more manageable and functional in use, and for all increased the ease and safety of its transportation, when illuminated and when not.
By common consensus, that old, if occasionally unreliable, friend of ours, it was the Romans who first moved to the production of the wicked candle; possibly initially through the use of dried rushes dipped in tallow, and subsequently through wicks made of material, possibly wool, possibly linen, possibly something else, dipped in tallow.
What is more certain is that with the candle arose the need for the candlestick.
The first of which, certainly in a Roman context, were relatively simple objects, both in clay, as neatly illustrated by an example in British Museum, but also relatively simple metal objects, essentially a rolled sheet of metal into which candles could be inserted.
A simplicity of construction which succinctly reminds us that form followed function in product design long before anyone had defined the fact.
A simplicity of construction which succinctly reminds us that the value of a candlestick isn't the object but what it enables: the provision of light where it is required, and the ability to transport light; in centuries past wherever you went at night it was going to be dark, you literally had to take light with you. Which, yes, is a nice metaphor.
A simplicity of construction which neatly juxtaposes with the world of highly ornate, decorative and representative candlesticks that has developed over the centuries; and the therein contained considerations on how as a species we not only transpose a perceived value on our objects of daily use, but how over the centuries we have become increasingly adept in both the considered utilisation of objects of daily use as props in setting our domestic environments, and also in reading the settings of others.
A simplicity of construction juxtaposed with highly ornate, decorative and representative constructions which allows one to understand that while candlesticks can and do provide for important and interesting insights into the development of both aesthetic understandings over the centuries and also developments in materials and production technology, they are less useful as the basis for developing a social (hi)story of any given society. As previously noted, history is not only written by the winners but by the visible, and in centuries past a majority of us would have used simple candlesticks, objects which, unlike the highly ornate, decorative and representative objects of the wealthy minority, haven't survived the trials and tribulations of the centuries. Don't exist in museums. A bias inherent not only in our understandings of the (hi)story of the candlestick, but in our understandings of the development of our interiors, of interior design, in general. If a bias all too often overlooked.
And a simplicity of construction still found today in those places where the candle is the primary light source, and where the candlestick still performs that elementary function the Romans bequeathed it. That while today for many candles are an anachronism, a decorative object, something to help bring a desired atmosphere, and fragrance, to a room, for a great many they are an essential. That while today for many candlesticks are ornate, decorative and representative, a component of a carefully arranged scenography, for a great many they are purely functional objects whose value is in the provision of light where it is required, and the ability to transport light.
And thus, for all that our candlesticks are an indicator of the paths by which our societies have become what they are, they are also a reminder of how far we still have to go, of how unevenly light is spread over our world.
Metaphorically and practically.......
Back in the day, when sport was something one did rather than something one consumed, John Aubrey notes that "the young girls in and about Oxford have a sport called Leap-candle".1 A sport so-called because that was what young girls in the mid-17th century in and about Oxford did. Lept a candle. Aubrey also noting that "this sport in other parts is called Dancing the candlerush"; and thus an indication that at that time, in those other parts, the tallow/grease dipped rush, that early Roman proto-candle, was still in use. And was apparently still so in 1883 when one Leopold Field notes a primitive device found in Hampshire for the holding of rush candles, a rush candlestick as it were, and also his sighting of rush candles in use in London2. A very nice reminder that technological advances rarely see old technologies vanish, that, and despite what many may breathlessly claim, technological advance is an augmentive not a successive process.
In addition to jumping candles by way of sport Iona and Peter Opie note that candle jumping was also a form of fortune telling: those who jumped over a lit candle without extinguishing it could be sure of good luck in the coming year.3
And while it is sadly not recorded whether the Jack of the popular nursery rhyme quoted by Johnny Preston was candle jumping for sport or soothsaying, the fact that Jack's nimble and quick jump over the candlestick, apparently, saw him land in the Cradle of Love tends to imply that even if it was sport, it led to the promised good fortune.....
While the most famous Chandler is unquestionably the one who is Friends with Rachel, Monica, Phoebe, Ross and Joey, chandlers existed long, long before 1994.
Primarily makers of candles, the candlestick maker who famously associated in a tub with a butcher and a baker would have been a chandler, rather than a maker of your actual candlesticks, chandler however doesn't however fit the metre of the rhyme, but we digress.... primarily makers of candles, the chandlery was also an office of wealthy estates and where the chandler was responsible for both the making and the management of candles. Including responsibility for those candles in the chandelier
Arising in the Middle Ages the first chandeliers can, in many regards, be considered as precursors of our contemporary pendant lamps, and were initially relatively simple constructions. Or at least were compared to what came: for all once the effect of interspersing crystal glass with candles was understood and the crystal chandelier appeared in all its shimmering, effervescent, celestial, glory.
And whether a relatively simple medieval wooden construction or a highly decorative 18th century Venetian glass creation, the presence of a chandelier, the presence of a light hung from the ceiling and illuminating a space from above, offered those who possessed such, those who could afford such, a different, higher, quality of lighting and thus a different, higher, quality of indoor life as that experienced by those who didn't and couldn't. And thus the chandelier not only stands as a very nice metaphor of wealth and luxury, but also stands as a very nice reminder that for all the democratic power inherently contained within a candle, that power can only be released if candles are freely and fairly shared amongst all. Which, yes, does sound like the start of a parable, "The one where Chandler emancipates the masses."
Quite aside from their practical use in supporting candles, candlesticks, certainly heavy, metal, candlesticks, are, as Múm's narrator reminds us, also practical as a weapon.
Not that we'd recommend making use of that particular functionality, we wouldn't and don't; but we would recommend reflecting on it.
Not least because, in many regards, the use of the candlestick as a weapon is essentially associated with the board game Cluedo. That whereas we don't doubt that before Cluedo was released in 1949 candlesticks were occasionally employed as weapons; what is inarguable is that since 1949 the candlestick as a weapon has become firmly established in popular culture.
And that, arguably, because as a weapon there is something distant, almost romanticised, about the candlestick as a weapon. Certainly in contrast to the revolver, dagger and rope also featured in Cluedo.
And that not least because using a candlestick as a weapon requires the sort of heavy, metal, candlestick most of us don't possess: being in the vicinity of such a candlestick implies being in a monastery, a palace, a James Bond film, the Cluedo mansion, certainly the sort of location most of us rarely, if ever, are. And thus the chances of us ever being in a position to employ a candlestick as a weapon are equally rare. And thus all the more fanciful, fantastic and distant. And thereby allows us to enjoy representations of candlestick based violence because the candlestick confirms it's fictional violence.
And in the case of Múm's narrator non-exercised violence; whereby the somewhat ambiguous, equivocal, line "could've, would've, should've, hit you back then" does leave open the (vague) possibility of a self-defence angle. And is that used in self-defence a weapon?
Historically candlesticks weren't just found indoors, they were also found outdoors as an early form of street lighting.
And thus while over many, many centuries indoor candlesticks allowed poets to dream, philosophers to consider the metaphysical world, engineers the physical world, biologists the natural world, chemists the chemical, etc, etc, etc, and thus help our societies and civilisations to develop; outdoor candlesticks both made our streets safer, not only in the sense of depriving ne'er-do-wells of the darkness they need, but also enabling us to see obstacles and hazards, and also importantly allowed outdoor life in our towns and cities to continue beyond the hours of light afforded by the sun. And in doing so to help our societies and civilisations to develop.
And thus for all The Browns' romanticising of the office of The Old Lamplighter: until in the course of the second half of the 19th century electric lighting increasingly relieved them of their duties, the Lamplighter, be that of gas, oil or candle lamps, didn't just make "the night a little brighter", but made it a little safer, a little more useable, a little more civilised, a little more like the day, and thus was an important component of any community. If one we doubt who was ever given their true due.
Nothing underscores the simplicity of the functional demands of a candlestick better than a candle stuck in the neck of an old bottle.
A near textbook example of the Readymade in design, and also of the gambiarra, that joyous Portuguese term for the makeshift, the hack, and in being such also helping underscore that where a functional and practical solution to a problem exists, designers have to, must, justify developing an industrial product to perform that same function. If the designer's solution is more efficient, more economical, less harmful, better, then good. Otherwise.....?
And very satisfyingly the Romans had a type of unguentarium, a small glass bottle for balsams, perfumes, oils et al, which is today popularly known as a Candlestick Bottle on account of the formal resemblance to a.... candlestick.
And whose to say that many a Roman didn't use them as just that, rather than consume a mass produced clay or metal object? For lest we forget, as a society the Romans were in many, many, regards far, far, ahead of us......
* Although in the southern hemisphere the December Solstice marks the end of the long days of summer, in 2020 it also metaphorically represents an increase in light....
1John Aubrey, Remaines of Gentilisme and Judaisme 1686-87, Edited and annoted by James Britten, Folk-lore Society, London 1881
2Leopold Field, Solid and liquid illuminating agents, Journal of the Society for Arts, Vol. 31, Nr. 1600, July 20th 1883
3Iona and Peter Opie, The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1977
The Radio smow Candlesticks Playlist, and all Radio smow playlists, including the Radio smow lighting playlist and its further reflections, pun intended, on light, can be found on the smowonline Spotify page.
