Art in the field
There is a tremendous sense of place to Andy Scott’s sculptures, the setting being of primary concern, as he explains to Janet Menzies
Relatives had worked with the Clydesdales on the docks, so maybe there is a bit of karma
WHEN an individual or organisation has become successful, we often describe them as being ‘on the map’. For sculptor Andy Scott this is literally the case, as his twin 30-metre-high steel sculptures of horses’ heads, The Kelpies, have their own pin on Google Maps, beside the M9 at Falkirk. Location is important to Scott’s work, and he will fight to be true to his sense of place. With The Kelpies, Scott remembers: “It was quite traumatic. As a sculptor the scale was important, but at several points in the process we talked about reducing the scale. In the end I had a line in the sand. I was insistent the landscape there is big sky country. It needed to be that size with the hills in the distance. They wouldn’t work if they were smaller.”
Scott stresses: “It isn’t a competition to make the biggest, it is because of the work itself. I had to stick to my guns, the horses are right at that size. The size is determined by the landscape and the sight lines and the project. In many cases, you see a lot of public art which could be anywhere – in any big city centre.”
Scott’s Kelpies really couldn’t be anywhere else. They are modelled on Clydesdale heavy horses, the breed name derived from its origin, working on the docks of the River Clyde in and around Glasgow. Scott explains: “With The Kelpies I was lucky to spend time with the Clydesdales that the Glasgow City Council have. It was fantastic being with those big beasts. I am drawn to the heavy horses – I am a working-class boy and I am a product of that work ethic. It is part of me. And then I found out that on my mother’s side of the family relatives had worked with the Clydesdales on the docks, so maybe there is a bit of karma there.”
Growing up in Glasgow has had a profound influence on Scott’s work. The whole city is a concrete (and brick and iron) expression of the idea of hard work and enterprise. “My dad was a draftsman for building companies and he was very aware of architecture and design and the fabric of Glasgow and its heritage. He had such a knowledge of the built environment,” remembers Scott.
Central to that architectural heritage was Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s Glasgow School of Art, which was destroyed by fire in 2018. As a graduate of the school, Scott comments: “It was a devastating blow when that was burned down. Glasgow is an incredible place, which was crowned by the Mackintosh Glasgow School of Art building. I enrolled for classes at the school when I was only about 12 years old. It was a different world – an amazing experience, and then I attended the school as a student. Ironically, in those days they kept the sculpture students away from the main building in case they damaged it. Then there were the two fires.”
For an artist with Scott’s strong sense of place, it is easy to understand how keenly felt is the loss of the building. With Scott’s sculpture, nowhere is just a building. He explains: “Most of my pieces are specific – they are about the location and the response to that location. I need to have a thorough realisation of the social reasons for the art. So there is a narrative encapsulated in the finished piece and its situation, which sometimes the public get straight away. Or sometimes they respond on a more intuitive level, which is also fine. So my research can sometimes be important and sometimes you can get too carried away. But there is always a motivation and a meaning for me personally, and it is special if people find their own local associations I was not really aware of.”
Scott’s Scottish works are resonant of their place, especially his horses, including Heavy Horse (another Glaswegian Clydesdale) and Monarch. His Lomondgate Stag stands on Loch Lomond, while The Dun Bear is emblematic of Dunbar.
Further afield, Minotaur is full of Mexican mystery, and international commissions are leading him to work on thoroughbred and Arab horses.
Scott now lives in Philadelphia with his wife, Hanneke, and his work is in demand globally. He says: “We moved here about four years ago, and it has a similar history to Glasgow so there are some parallels. But it has been very difficult at times,