Last summer I participated in a media launch to tell the public about the discovery of possible ancient musical notation on one of the Stirling Heads. This was in the form of a curious sequence of Is, Os and IIs round the inner frame of a large 16th-century oak medallion, beautifully carved with the face of a woman.

The launch was covered by many UK newspapers, TV and radio programmes. Since then interest in what is properly called Head 20, but most people now call the Musical Head, has gone global. Indeed, internet discussion has been quite active in recent months, especially in America. Ann Heymann has begun offering harp workshops in exploring the notation and its musical possibilities. Cynthia Cathcart wrote an article, published in the Bulletin of the Historical Harp Society (December 2009), which examined different interpretations as well as the symbolism, meaning and intent of the notation. At the Edinburgh International Harp Festival on 12th April I will present a workshop looking at the notation within the context of historical harp music from England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. I also returned to the Chapel Royal in January to make a recording about the head for BBC Radio 3’s Early Music Show, which will be broadcast on 28th February at 1pm. Between visits to the castle I have performed two different interpretations of the notation on a Highland wire-strung clarsach, which would have been a familiar harp to anyone in 16th-century Scotland.

The sequence of markings on the head is fascinating. They are remarkably similar to those used by medieval harp players in Wales to indicate formulas for composing music. These symbols relate to contrasting sets of notes, which give moments of either tension or resolution. So, if they are musical notation they don’t present a specific tune or melody, there is no indication of rhythm or dynamics, and there are many interpretations for using this sequence to compose a piece of music.

Annoyingly, there is nothing on the roundel which supports the theory that the sequence is musical. The woman in the carving may be an allegorical figure, but she doesn’t hold any musical instruments, nor are there any scenes of music-making.

So, the head and the notation are hugely intriguing, and the media coverage has led to all sorts of ideas and questions – not all of it predictable. For example my harp playing was featured on the nationwide Good Morning America TV show, which flippantly likened the discovery to something from The Da Vinci Code. Afterwards I got a letter from a viewer, which I expected would have ask about either my harp or my interpretation, but no – his question was “where did you get your glasses?”. 

Bill Taylor

I was born Fiona Donaldson, but will be remembered as “The Carver’s Daughter”. My dad, John, is the craftsman Historic Scotland commissioned to hand carve copies of the 16th-century Stirling Heads which once adorned the ceiling of the King’s Presence Hall in the castle’s royal palace. His new versions are being used to recreate this masterpiece of Renaissance interior design. Just one problem though – there are 36 surviving originals but the ceiling has space for 37.

In fact, it turned out to be an opportunity more than a problem. The project had allowed Historic Scotland to learn an enormous amount about the work of the craftsmen of 450 years ago. But there was something missing, they had all been replicas and reinterpretations of existing heads, none was created from scratch. This was a chance to fill that gap.

Authenticity was essential, so the border is like that on the other heads, the style of workmanship is the same, and much of the costume and detail is taken from a stone statue on the outside of the palace. But the face, that’s me. Many of the originals were portraits of real people, some were famous kings and queens, but in other cases the names have been lost and we just have the image. If the carvers were anything like the stonemasons who worked at our churches, abbeys and cathedrals, they could well have sneaked in some images of their own loved ones.

The material Historic Scotland gives to visitors names as many of the heads as possible but with some – like the woman in masque costume – there’s little that can be said. It might be taking us back across the centuries to glimpse the face of a woman the craftsman knew and who possibly, as the costume suggests, loved dressing up for parties. The caption for the new head, my head, simply reads “The Carver’s Daughter”. Nothing more. It’s rather lovely to be the face of the one truly 21st-century Stirling Head. Like many of the others, my name will fade from memory, but my image may look down on palace visitors for centuries – always serene, and forever young.

Fiona Maybin, The Carver’s Daughter

From 13 to 21 February the 37 replica Stirling Heads I spent five years hand carving will go on display. This will be your only chance to view the heads in their natural state, a few weeks later each of the metre-wide oak medallions will be fixed to the ceiling of the Castle’s Royal Palace. Then, and this part still makes me feel a little apprehensive, they will be painted in bright colours. As a 21st-century craftsman I feel that natural oak is something of great beauty. The project, however, is all about authenticity – returning the palace to how it looked in the middle of the 16th-century. Back then they loved colour, lots of it and the more vivid the better.

Tests on some heads that survived have produced paint fragments so we know that they probably were painted. It would be interesting to know how the original craftsmen felt about this project, and what the relationship was between them and the other artists and craftsmen involved. They had carefully given form to dozens of kings, queens, emperors and mythical heroes, carving their subjects from huge blank circles of wood. Then, finally finished, nobles and foreign ambassadors could gasp in wonder at the crowd of colourful faces staring down at them.

What I noticed was that the Renaissance craftsmen took great care to carve all the features themselves rather than leaving them for painters to add on. That suggests pride in the job. It seems unlikely that the originals would have been gathered together before painting and put on public show. I'm delighted that this is being done with my work and that I'm around to hold workshops showing you how I made them.

It will be wonderful to see them all together, and to share the sight with visitors. It will be an important moment for me in personal and professional terms. Afterwards I’m sure there will be some pangs as they are taken from the hall to fulfil their part in Historic Scotland’s project to turn the palace into a fabulous new visitor attraction. Consequently hundreds of thousands of people a year will pass through the King’s Presence Hall and admire the heads – looking just as James V would have wanted. I feel I have to say that I have been privileged to be part of this and to have left such a wonderful legacy.

By John Donaldson, wood carver.

● The exhibition of the 37 heads runs from 13 to 21 February and is included in the standard castle ticket price.
● View a video of John at work
● Enter our Stirling Heads competition