TEDS Data Dictionary

Passage 1: The Roots of Wailind Dale’s Spirit

For a long time my wife had insisted that we get hold of some electric heating for the winter. But I was reluctant to comply: our house was on the top of a small, chilly mount called Tinperlock Dale, and there was a dark wood on the slope right behind our house. We could just chop down a tree from there, so why bother with the installation of an electric heater?

I asked my neighbour about it, and he concurred with me with such an inflexible demeanour that I felt rewarded about standing my ground with my wife. ‘Electric heating,’ he chuckled, his tone rather jocund. ‘What’s the rationale behind it, when we’ve got trees brimming up at us from every cardinal point of the forest?’ He then proceeded to walk around to the back of his house and chop down the old oak which grew there.

‘This,’ he told his wife, ‘is going to keep us warm all winter’. His name was Wilf, and he lived on Wailind Dale, the hill next to ours. He was a gruff, sanguine man with a rich moustache.

Last October, however, as I passed by his house I noticed some workers installing an electric heater. I queried Wilf about it, but he seemed uneasy, and his answers were evasive. His wife appeared pale and withdrawn and was certainly not rejoicing in the event. I didn’t understand why.

My wife took the news as a chance to renew her symposiums on the subject. ‘I do not want something that we do not need!’, I found myself repeating every night. But I could see that she was not convinced.

November came, and the air started getting rather crisp; the mud took a livid texture and puddles stared at the sky with eyes of glass. Once, ambling into a tavern in town, I saw that Wilf was sitting there. I cheered and sat at his table to share a meal. After a few pints of ale had been imbibed, and while we were having our last pipe before taking leave, I gathered my courage and asked what had finally persuaded him to get a heater.

He took the pipe out of his mouth and looked away. ‘George, there are some things,’ he said, speaking softly, ‘which I’d rather not discuss. Not anymore. Not, in fact, ever.’

I left him after that, not knowing what to say. But on the way home, as I walked the path that arched around Wailind Dale and towards home, I saw the silhouette of their house thrown against the stars, and I recognised an ominous shape standing behind it which made me freeze in terror: it was the tree. The tree, shining against the moon as though it had never been cut down – and the wind running through it became twisted into a low-pitched howl. It was a ghost, I tell you. The ghost of a tree.

On coming home, I sat at the table and said, in a croak: ‘Perhaps we should get some electric heating for this winter.’

Passage 2: Florence Broadhurst – Living a Life in Colour

Words used to describe Florence Maud Broadhurst include multi-talented, flamboyant, colourful, pioneering and mystery. Born in 1899 in Australia, by her teens Florence Broadhurst was a celebrated singer and spent her early years touring East Asia with a musical troupe. She eventually settled in Shanghai for a time in the 1920s where she set up a music school, the Broadhurst Academy.

Florence moved onto London in 1933 where she opened a boutique in Bond Street and called herself Madame Pellier. She lived out the war years in England but later returned to Australia in 1949. During the next decade she produced over one hundred landscape paintings which were exhibited to great acclaim. However, it is for her stunningly original wallpaper designs that she is best known.

In 1959 Florence Broadhurst established a company in Sydney to manufacture her hand-painted wallpaper which was, at the time, unique. She went on to pioneer a number of new techniques for the production of her wallpaper, which meant she could mass-produce her designs. These included drying systems, printing onto metallic surfaces and using a washable, vinyl-coated finish.

When it came to establishing her own style, Broadhurst broke with tradition, which proved to be the source of her success. Her colourful, repeating floral designs became increasingly desirable in fashionable circles. Some of her designs were oriental in style and no doubt influenced by her early years. Her wallpaper patterns contained 100s of designs in combinations of many different colours, all of which reflected her vibrant character - vivid pinks, vibrant yellows, olive greens, bright oranges, sea blues, dusky blacks, burnished silvers and gold. She described her hand-printed creations as “vigorous designs for modern living”. By the mid-1970s her luxurious prints dominated the Australian market and were exported worldwide. At this time there were up to 800 individual designs in 80 striking colours. Her flamboyant signature became her trademark.

In Australia, Florence became quite a celebrity with her elaborate dress-sense and burnt orange hair. She was an enthusiastic fund raiser, arranging events for charitable organisations including the Australian Red Cross.

In 1977 Florence Broadhurst was tragically found dead at her studio in Sydney. Mystery enshrouded her death over thirty years ago and still to this day nobody really knows the truth of what happened, although there has been much speculation. However, she remains a well-respected artist and forward-thinker in the world of interior design and her popularity is growing once again as contemporary world-leading fashion and interior designers rediscover her prints.

In 2006, the film ‘Unfolding Florence - The many lives of Florence Broadhurst’ was released which documents the life of this extraordinary woman. It is said that ‘invention and reinvention’ truly were the keys to her unique existence.