The British tradition of making giants is making a comeback, and nowhere was that more apparent than in the Cornish town of Lostwithiel as 2026 began. Lisa Schneidau, an environmentalist and author who had never before welcomed the new year with towering processional figures, described the scene as “absolutely extraordinary”. At a certain time of the evening, she said, giants began appearing from all over the town. Everyone then flooded out of their houses and congregated into a massive procession of giants, lights, drums and music.
The giants that paraded through Lostwithiel on New Year’s Eve were creations of The Lost Giants (TLG), a collective of craftspeople and artists based in the town. Made from wooden frames, cloth, papier-mâché and card, the figures were full of life. Schneidau, who spent most of her career working at wildlife trusts and joined the collective last year, said the experience felt like stepping into a fairy tale.
A tradition reborn
Processional giants have deep roots in British life. The Salisbury Giant — named Christopher — is the UK’s oldest surviving example, created by a tailors’ guild in the 1400s. Standing 12 feet tall on a wooden frame, he was accompanied by a smaller, horse-like figure called Hob-Nob, whose job was to clear the way in processions. Both were associated with Midsummer rituals and appeared in the Salisbury Guild of Tailors’ records from 1570. The Salisbury Museum purchased the giant for 30 shillings in 1873. He last paraded through the city in 1977, though replicas have since been made to keep the tradition alive. London had its own giants too: Gog and Magog, papier-mâché figures that have featured in the Lord Mayor’s Show since the 1400s.
In medieval times, workers’ guilds and villages across the UK routinely created enormous mascots for events and celebrations. That practice faded, but the seeds of its revival were sown, according to Ruth Webb, co-founder of TLG, in European cultural exchange programmes during the 1980s. Town twinning, which expanded significantly from the 1950s, meant British people saw traditional village giants from Spain and France. Dorset and Cornwall became a stronghold for making these statuesque giants, full of human character. At the same time, British outdoor theatre companies such as Welfare State International — founded in 1968 and active until 2006 — were riffing off the agitprop theatre popular in the Americas, using puppets and creatures to make political statements.
Now, a growing interest in community activism, folk traditions and seasonal celebrations has driven the folklore revival. The Lost Giants sits at the heart of that resurgence, drawing on a 35-year-old giant-making tradition in Lostwithiel that began when Ruth’s father, John Webb, ran the Cornwall folk festival. After encountering processional giants at European festivals, he commissioned a giant called Peter from Michael and Wendy Dacre of the theatre company Raven Tales. Peter became the first giant to parade the streets of Lostwithiel on New Year’s Eve in 1990. Ruth grew up with that giant in her life, and now she and her sister-in-law Amy Webb — a designer and illustrator who graduated from Falmouth University in 2012 — run the collective, founded three years ago. Ruth is a theatre designer and also a Forest School Leader.
Modern messages, ancient craft
TLG’s creations are products of both European tradition and the agitprop influence, combined with a renewed interest in seasonal celebrations. The collective has made an uncanny sisal mountain goat called Ooelle, complete with a third eye, who loves a festival procession. It has also brought to life Old Crockern, the vengeful guardian spirit of Dartmoor, using plaited reeds harvested from the River Dart. In October 2024, a squadron of fish, squirrels and geese marched on St Paul’s Cathedral to demand that the Church of England commit to rewilding some of its land. TLG’s giants are still traditionally made by groups of local people and artists pooling skills, materials and ideas, but they often carry a very modern ecological, activist message.
“For those that don’t have a large voice or who feel lost or helpless, giants can show our collective desires and strength,” Ruth said. “Just the scale of them allows us to think past ourselves as individuals. I think there’s a need for that at the moment. Adopting a persona or putting on a mask lets us behave differently and say the unsayable in the folk world – a processional creature has the same effect.”
Schneidau met Ruth at the wild camping protests on Dartmoor in 2023, where Old Crockern played a powerful role. “Crockern at the protest was like this silent witness. It gave personhood and agency to the land,” she said. Schneidau, who has worked for wildlife charities for 25 years and is the author of several books of folk tales including Botanical Folk Tales of Britain and Ireland (2018), River Folk Tales of Britain and Ireland (2020) and Woodland Folk Tales of Britain and Ireland (2022), views storytelling as a form of activism for the climate and ecological emergency.
Call for the next great beastie
This year, TLG was awarded a grant by the Ffern Folk Foundation — launched by the fragrance brand Ffern to award an annual £50,000 grant to individuals and collectives involved in British folk practices. Previous recipients include the Morris dancing side Boss Morris. TLG is using the grant to create the Big Folk Archive, an online photo archive of giants hosted on its website, and to fund a new giant for an environmental campaign group based in the south west. The collective has also published “Giant Making Zines” with tips, Cornish giant tales, DIY activities and posters, supported by Feast Cornwall and the Cornwall 365 Creative Communications Grant.
The group has issued a public callout for an environmental organisation that would like to collaborate on making its very own beastie. “It’s quite an unusual question in today’s world, but we need them to explain why a giant would be important to their group,” Schneidau said. “We’ve been approached by people cleaning up their local river or trying to save woodland, and we ask them: ‘What’s the spirit of your land?’”
Ruth stressed that any group wanting a giant also needs to be practical. “It has to be about a community. Making a giant offers a really different space. We’re making something together, we’re bonding, which is really important for any campaign, isn’t it? That you like each other enough to put all the slogging hours in than it takes.”
To apply for a giant, visit the Lost Giants website.
