‘Usually people see the plaques as an enhancement to their property and they’re happy to have them.’
installed under the scheme have represented women and, today, only 14 per cent of them celebrate female achievements. Howard says this is for two reasons. ‘Firstly, I think women’s contributions were undervalued. There’s a general historical blindness to the work that they did. The other reason is that, in the past, you didn’t have so many women in the kind of leading roles that would commend them normally for public commemoration.’
In a bid to address this, English Heritage launched a campaign in 2016 to encourage more nominations for women and, for the !rst time ever, the blue plaques panel is now shortlisting more women than men. This year, six new plaques are due to be unveiled to women, including Christine Granville, who was Britain’s longest-serving female secret agent during the Second World War, and the sculptor Barbara Hepworth.
It’s rare that the owner of a building refuses to have a plaque. ‘Usually people see them as an enhancement to their property and they’re happy to have them,’ says Howard. ‘The bigger problem is when we can’t identify the owner or the decision-maker, which happens surprisingly o"en.
‘ We’ve been trying for years to put a plaque up to Henry Fox Talbot, the pioneering photographer, but until his old house changed hands recently, could get no reply to our approaches. All you can do in such cases is go back to it periodically and see whether you have
any be!er luck or whether the ownership has changed.’
When a blue plaque does get the go-ahead, among the "rst people to hear about it will be artisan ceramicists Sue and Frank Ashworth. The couple – who met while studying at the Royal College of Art – have been making plaques since the early 1980s, "rst for a scheme run by Lewisham Borough Council and then for the GLC. With their son Justin, they now create all the plaques for English Heritage from a studio in their home near Fowey in Cornwall, as well as taking on private commissions.
Sue explains the intricate process of creating a plaque: ‘It’s a high-" red stoneware,’ she says. ‘It’s cast in a mould and each plaque needs two "rings and slow drying – it’s thick enough that you can’t dry it too quickly. People o#en ask about the glazing. It’s not a Pantone colour, it can di $er each time you make up a new batch. And the result is a vibrant surface of character.’
The font was originally designed by Henry Hooper, who was appointed as a
designer in the Architect’s O!ce of London County Council in 1954. ‘He knew that, in order to make plaques, you couldn’t have just a normal Roman font,’ says Sue. ‘He had to modify it so it could be executed in the means of a low relief, which produces a sort of cloisonné e"ect.’
The whole process of making a plaque is done by hand and can take up to six or seven weeks. Once a plaque has been installed, it’s maintenance-free. They are very slightly domed so that rain and dirt run o" them, and will last for as long as the building they’ve been a#ached to remains standing.
The enduring appeal of the blue plaque is, says Howard, because it draws a link between people and place. ‘It’s a form of public monument that’s very accessible, and it also helps people to become conscious of the historic built environment and hopefully wish to preserve it. It’s eye-catching without being too obtrusive, so I think that’s why it’s become such a successful means of educating people about the past.’
The font was designed by Henry Hooper, appointed as a designer in the Architect’s O!ce of London County Council in "#$%&