A stitch in wildflower time

Delicate cuckooflower, bluebells and cow parsley are brought to colourful life through Sarah Becvar's carefully embroidered creations, discovers Octavia Pollock, as she tries her hand at the textile artist's intricate work

- Octavia Pollock

OUTSIDE, daisies dance and cornflowers bloom. Inside, they come to life again under the sure hands of Sarah Becvar, her fingers lightly swirling a piece of linen under the drumming needle of her sewing machine. On the walls of her garden studio hang dried bunches of flowers and watercolour sketches, jars of flowers stand next to a kettle and books of wild- flowers line the shelves. At one end of the airy, white-painted space is a large work table, at the other is the all-important sewing machine. Tucked away in rural East Sussex with her three friendly golden retrievers curled up nearby, Mrs Becvar embroiders the wildflowers of the surrounding meadows freehand, her needle acting as a paintbrush.

Growing up on her family’s dairy farm half a mile up the road, now mainly arable and run under regenerative lines by her brother, Anthony, the young artist roamed the countryside, learning the different flowers— cuckooflower, bluebells, cow parsley—and taking them home to draw. Her family was supportive of her creative bent: her mother had studied interior design and her paternal grandmother, who lived on the farm, was a formative influence. ‘She loved embroidery and crochet and never threw anything away.’ In the studio reside tall jars of buttons her grandmother collected, each tiny piece telling a story. ‘It was she who taught me that a weed is only a weed if it’s growing in a place you don’t want it to and to let the wildflowers grow, just as we’re encouraged to do now.’