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abendgulesNext up was Hilary Davidson, curator at MoL, talking about the Quilted Brial of Dona Teresa Gil
Hilary's particular interest is in Spanish textiles, from early medieval to 16th century, and this is just part of her broader research into them.
The grave of Dona Teresa Gil was found and opened in 2001, in a town NW of Valladolid, and in an effort to conserve a family funeral tomb, the excavators decided to try to conserve the clothing of the wearer.
Opened, the tomb contained the mummified body of a woman with a veil, shift, brial, gloves, garters, a mantle or pelote (leather or poss. fur where the fur had decayed, with silk outer layer). the stockings and shoes were missing, possibly removed in 19th c when the body was shifted somewhat. Otherwise, the setting was intact.
Dona Teresa is fairly well accounted for - she was related to the portuguese royal family, lived 45-50 years, b. around 1260-1265. There's a suggestion that her father was steward to the Portugese king (see Spanish wikipedia) and a new local history (published in spain) suggests that she was actually the illegitimate daughter of the Portuguese king. She was definitely lover to the Spanish Infante, later Sancho IV, the Brave . She is sometimes referred to as the 'heiress of Castille', remembering that these were all much smaller less unified kingdoms until 1492.
When the prince her lover married, she was hustled into a more secluded Cistercian life, and though very devout, she never took the veil formally.
Her will was drawn up in 1307, and instead of the Cistercians, she gave most of her money to the Dominicans to found a monastery. She made a slightly odd choice of executors: her lover's (presumeably legitimate) son, her lover's mother, who she may have conflicted with in life, and her own brother. Given this choice, the queen eventually followed through on this request, but founded the monastery in one of her favoured villages, one that Teresa would have no connection with.
When the monastery was finished, her body was translated to it, in 1345 - there's a possibility that she was redressed at this point, something you have to consider in the dating of her clothes.
Veil - fine linen, ruffled at the edges, very comperable to the styles of veil shown in illustrations of the Cantigas de S. Maria, composed by Alphonso el Sabio, 13th c.
(This factoid is from another source - IIRC, the gathered effect is by weaving technique of making selvedges 'longer' than the body of the weaving, creating a natural ruffle - I think this surfaced when Dona Teresa's clothing was first publiciised).
Her shift, while shaped like a classic t-tunic, was actually cut much more like some form of Middle Eastern folk dress, with narrow long sleeves, a long front slit (no evidence of brooch or buttons) and huge oblong panels on either side of a narrow centre panel forming the body of the tunic, and giving it the fullness. See the cut of the salwar kameez shown on wikipedia . I'm sorry I didn't record if it was cotton or linen - there was a lot of discussion all day about the prominence of cotton in Mediterranean-influenced countries.
The brial is defined as a 'gown of expensive material', a term probably descended from 'bliaut' - one of Davidson's ongoing projects is exploring the strong relations between garment terms in languages spoken in Spain. A brial is distinct from a 'seya', which is a gown suitable for less noble wearers. What is striking is that it's very thinly quilted.
Of course, I don't have a picture (though the clothes are on display at either the monastery or a local museum, which Davidson visited), but as a general idea - picture a 'cote hardie' or a 'Gothic fitted gown' (insert favourite term here), with a high neckline, long sleeves, and only slightly set-in sleeves. It has a mostly square bodice, and *enormous* gores - at least as wide as the width of the bodice piece, apparently all of one piece (vs the two-trianges-back-to-back that many of us are familiar with).
One really unusual feature of the gores is their circular 'points' - rather than coming to a triangle point to insert at the side seam, the top of the gore is a semi-circle. Again, the only parallel Davidson could find was in much later kaftans from the Ottoman empire, which have similar curved 'points' inserted at the hip.
The sleeve is 'medium' width: after a very small gusset, the sleeve runs straight to about the elbow, then 'swoops' in to a very narrow lower arm, then flares briefly into the cuff. The cuff has 8 buttons on it, made of the same material, very flat. There may have once been some decorative work on the cuffs - there's just a faint suggestion of arabesque shapes on it - but it's hard to see.
Top layer is a taffeta-like silk, tabbywoven, in a lovely indigo blue colour. Lining is undyed linen, also tabby woven, and the stuffing is a mix of cotton and wool (fibres not fabric), but very thinly laid. The term for this padding wadding is 'guata'.
The quilting is of backstitch, long rows running top to bottom, and from shoulder to cuff, about 7-8mm apart. The channels of quilting offer some shaping to the sleeve, along with the cut:
I asked how the quilted pieces were assembled, and she suggested that the body, sleeves and gores were quilted separately then assembled into the gown, judging by the way the quilting ran and where the seams were.
The hem is a 'natural length', ie. doesn't extend a huge distance beyond the wearer, in a lavish display of excess - compared to the 'saya encordata' of Leonor de Castile (shown for comparison)- what I'd call a sideless surcoat, which is at least a foot longer than any wearer, and laced strongly on one side only - very odd shape. It was also simply hemmed, rather than bound on the edge with an additional finish.
SO: why quilted? for warmth? seems an odd choice - more layers would be warmer, and the other garment of a cloak or pelote would have provided warmth. The top fabric is silk, but it's not nearly as rich as some other examples that survive - Teresa could have afforded more shiny, but might have chosen to 'dress down' as an expression of modesty.
The Moorish influence again comes up - it might have been a style imported from Moorish culture. The region we now call Spain was a fasicinating mix of Christian, Moorish and Jewish culture for quite a long time, one layered on top of another, so we shouldn't write off any combination as impossible.
Other evidence: Davidson looked at contemporary art of 13th and 14th c in Spain, including paintings in Teruel Cathedral, which survive. Some diagonal effects in clothing shown might be quilting, now that the viewer is looking for it.
Davidson feels strongly that Spanish costume is largely forgotten in clothing historian studies: the local Spanish costume historians are happy to publish in their own language, and don't feel the need to translate, so their work goes largely unnoticed outside of Spain. It could be a great source of insight into trends that surprise us elsewhere in Europe (bliauts? quilting?), if only it were shared more widely. I know I'm hoping Hilary publishes these observations and that better pictures come to light.
ETA: forgot to mention: Davidson does sew and make costumes, so she had a test re-creation of the sleeve shape, made of two layers of twill-woven silk (same indigo colour) testing out different quilting shapes. The layers produce a much more drapey fabric than you might expect - and so some depictions of draped clothing might possibly *be* quilting, that we haven't recognised as such in the past.
The sleeve was much fondled and admired! in part because not all of the academics actually re-create items. So bringing in samples is always welcome, and generates a lot of comment.
