Category Archives: Ideas

Place – Buchanhaven village

When painting the sea, George Reid (1841-1913) habitually positioned his viewer a hundred metres or so away from the water rather than on the foreshore. This enabled him to include elements that would define the space as a specific place.

Reid, George; Coast Sketch, Buchanhaven, 14 August 1868; Fife Council

The picture’s dimensions extend the central character’s trudge from sea to home. Its sombre colours contribute to an atmosphere of weariness and rough life lived, which is compounded by the repetitive shapes; the three cottages, the clumps of shadowed hard turf, the jumbled upright poles. It has many narrative elements. The figure, stepping wearily uphill, is bent over to carry a heavy basket. He walks away from the sea , perhaps away from a hard day’s work, towards the darkly shadowed cottages. The rutted unsurfaced road and the isolated flapping clothes on a makeshift line suggest that these homes are poorly serviced. The title is precise, stamping the artist’s portrayal with a specific place and time. We know where Reid painted most of his landscapes and seascapes because the titles are almost always specific. He defined a place.

From this example, we can extract some seminal elements of a definition of a painter’s place.

Firstly, place is delineated by spatial elements such as topography. In Reid’s picture, the topography is an identifier but also a metaphor. Its features define the place but are also drawn in such a way that they echo the narrative. For example, the uphill gradient from beach to cottages likely corresponds to reality, but it can also represent the figure’s uphill struggle in life. Its slope is mirrored by the land horizon that bisects the picture, whilst also connecting the two areas of central interest in this figure’s world, work and home.

Secondly, place is defined by the physical environment, part of which is stable like the hill and the sea, and part of which is not, like the weather. The social environment is also significant, represented by elements like buildings, objects and active figures, and also by reminders of esoteric things like home and work. Viewers are reminded of their own spatial experiences in the environment, of trudging up a hill.

Thirdly, a definition of place also carries a temporal meaning, which may or may not be explicit. Kevin Lynch expresses the idea more starkly by asking the question, what time is this place? Reid answers the question by including a calendar date in his title, and also with the clothing that the figure wears, the cart tracks in the mud and so on.

Finally, a definition of place implies that the person invests their physical environment with emotional attachment. This can take many forms and may often be so complex that it is difficult to research. There has recently been an increase in scholarly interest in researching the concept of genus loci, the spirit of a place. Reid has somehow communicated the atmosphere of early Victorian Buchanhaven village.

 

Place, Space and Scape

Joseph Henderson was 38 years of age when he painted this canvas, titled ‘A Northerly Breeze’. It is a portrait of the Scottish sea, its waves inundating the space to marginalise the figures of the women and the ship.

Henderson, Joseph; A Northerly Breeze; The Stirling Smith Art Gallery & Museum.

There are myriad writings, many of them challenging and scholarly, that explore the apparent distinctiveness of Scottish paintings. Whilst reviewing many images of the sea for clues about the genesis and form of any distinctive Scottishness, I realised that one contextual feature was always consistent for the painters, irrespective of the year, the local and national background, their domestic circumstances and personal histories. This was the land itself, that piece of the Earth’s surface that we currently call Scotland.

Any painter who faced outwards from a Scottish foreshore would experience the same Scottish sea. To explore the distinctiveness of such portraits as Henderson’s, one must examine the fundamentals of their Geography – the space, place, and location of what the artist was responding to. The concepts of space and place have been extensively discussed by cultural geographers such as Doreen Massey, Yi-Fu Tuan, Raymond Williams and Tim Ingold. All these writers emphasise that spatiality has been ignored in traditional social history, which instead stresses history and time. It will be fascinating to apply their understandings to the analysis of Scottish paintings.

The importance of Scottish sea(s) in sculpting consciousness

The sea has been conceptualised in the western psyche, through myth, literature and art, as formless, wild and dangerous, romantically sublime. Yet this featureless void doesn’t resonate with people who live near the sea, as many people in Scotland do.

Our experiences of the sea are much more nuanced. I know how the little cold waves on Ayr’s flat sandy beach feel to a 4 year-old boy. I can still match my teenage fear of balancing up high with the thump of cold murky water on my chest after I’d jumped into a harbour from the pier.  There are sharp sensory memories of being on the sea in a sailing dingy: sounds heard- the slap-slap of water against the hull, the deep creaking flap of sails, a tiller that thrums; odours smelled and movements felt. There are other memories of being ejected from the boat, flying and falling into cold deep water. Such experiences shape our consciousness and influence future behaviours.

I remember how the light winds of summer and the arctic blow of a winter storm felt decades ago on the West sands at St. Andrew’s, where I stood many times and faced the tide. Those experiences resurface whenever I hear the opening soundtrack of ‘Chariots of Fire‘.

Here are seven paintings of those West sands, ostensibly of the ‘same place’ (found through Google images). The last two though communicate more to me than the first five. Interesting that none of the artists has depicted a human being, and only some have included the town.

Northern coasts and seas

What’s up North?

This is a photograph of the Galloway coast, a favourite haunt of seascape artists. It’s ‘up north’ for many U.K. residents, but not for those who paint here.

Northerly places are usually assumed to be tougher to live in. They languish in colder weather and there are fewer people around. The imagined harshness and loneliness is accentuated because the North has mountains whilst other parts of Britain have hills. The Northern seas are part of the stereotypical Scottish landscape of the mind, which has in turn been portrayed as bleak and/or mystical, empty and/or abandoned, romantic or post-industrial wasteland. Any artist might build the clichéd elements into their world view. However, those who have lived in Scotland for an appreciable length of time might also have incorporated the actuality, what they could sense of the environment and absorb from the country’s culture.

 

Scottishness?

This is a poem by Don Paterson that was commissioned in 2005 to mark the publication of Scotland’s Cultural Commission.

We, the Scottish people, undertake
To find within our culture a true measure
Of the mind’s vitality and spirit’s health;
To see that what is best in us is treasured,
And what is treasured, held as common wealth;
To guarantee all Scots folk, of whatever
Age or origin, estate or creed,
The means and the occasion to discover
Their unique gift, and let it flower and seed;
To act as democratic overseer
Of our whole culture: wise conservator
Of its tradition, its future’s engineer,
The only engine of its living hour;
To take just pride in all our diverse tongues,
Folks and customs – and also what is yet
Most distinct in us: our infinite songs,
Our profligate invention and thrawn debate;
To honour our best artists, and respect
Not just the plain cost of their undertaking
But the worth of what they make, and every act
Of service and midwifery to that making;
And to discover, through our artistry
And fine appreciation of our art,
What we are not – so know ourselves to be
The world, both in microcosm and part,
And recognise in this our charge of care
To friend and stranger, bird and beast and tree,
To the planetary and local space we share.
We will do this wakefully, and imaginatively.

Janette Kerr

What, if anything, is distinctively Scottish about art from Scotland?

Is there a ‘unique‘ gift or are we ‘the world, both in microcosm and in part‘.

‘What is yet most distinct in us’?

Dreamboats. Get away from it all!

A little research experiment to while away those virus hours. You can send your thoughts to me via messenger, email, in the comments below or even on a sanitised postcard.

Imagine yourself standing in each of the five different landscape paintings in turn and write a few sentences to describe what you experience whilst you are there.

1.

 

2.

 

3.

 

4.

 

5.

Up North


Scotland lies between the 55th and 60th parallel north, the same latitude as Kamchatka, St. Petersburg, Alaska and Quebec. It has over 18 hours of daylight in June, less than 6 in December. In his book,The Idea of North, Peter Davidson introduced the idea of something he called ‘true north’ that everyone carries within them (and personal, different from geographic magnetic north). You can never arrive there; its always ‘up’ from where you are. The imagined North is usually assumed to be tougher to live in. It languishes in colder weather and there are fewer people around. Its harshness and loneliness is accentuated because the North has mountains whilst other parts of Britain have hills.

The Northern seas are part of the stereotypical Scottish landscape of the mind, which has in turn been portrayed as bleak and/or mystical, empty and/or abandoned, romantic or post-industrial wasteland. Any artist might incorporate the stereotypical elements into their world view. However, those who have resided in Scotland for an appreciable length of time might also be expected to have incorporated the actuality, what they could sense of the environment and absorb from the country’s culture.

John Schuler, 1957, The Wave.

Thoughts about the notion of PLACE

What is ‘place’?
Place is a central part of how humans know the world. We go to a place, we live in a place, we build a bridge and change an ’empty’ space into a place where we can meet someone or take a picture or document in a map. By being in place, each person stamps a segment of space and time with their knowledge, their individual ‘knowing’.
That knowing comes from experience that is gained through sensing the environment; seeing, hearing, touching, tasting and smelling. The person integrates that sensory information with what (s)he already ‘knows’ and feels, with pre-existing cultural and emotional and cognitive understandings.

The artist chooses a space to ‘capture’ or ‘portray’, but what does that mean? Does the artist then define the space as a known place, even to the extent of trying to put the viewer ‘there’?
Though context is important, there are more immediate, direct sensory influences on an artist who paints in place for a period of time. This is his/her sensory situation (situation has been suggested as a more useful word than context to describe what is influencing an artist in place – it can reference both location and subjective feelings).

What aspects of the situation influenced the photographer to ‘capture’ this image of this particular place?

 

Ten Thousand Miles of Edge’. Calton Hill. Edinburgh. January 2020.

The photograph shows an artwork projected onto an old Edinburgh building to celebrate the New Year of 2020, a transcendent time for many Scots. It is ostensibly about the country’s coastline, ‘ten thousand miles of edge’. However, this is Nelson’s monument. It stands on Calton hill, overlooking the Scottish capital, and McKee makes a convincing case for it being a declaration in 1810 of Scotland’s identity within the British state. It is interesting that a memorial to the iconic British admiral was illuminated with images and poetry that portrayed a solitary island Scotland, linked to Europe by seas; the unionist stone transformed by an autonomous light. It may also be significant.