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‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’: Michael Stumpf, The Glasgow School of Art, Glasgow International 2014

Alphabet Chat Letter ‘O’ [1]

“Here is a secret about the letter O”, says Big Bird. “Whoops!” The camera frame turns him, and the ‘O’ he is holding, upside down. “It looks the same upside down, but I don’t.” [2]

'Ring', Michael Stumpf (2014). Cast acrylic resin. Mackintosh Building, Director's Balcony, GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson.

‘Ring’, Michael Stumpf (2014). Cast acrylic resin. Mackintosh Building, Director’s Balcony, GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson.

'Ring', cast acrylic resin, 2014. Michael Stumpf. Mackintosh building Director's Balcony.

‘Ring’, cast acrylic resin, 2014. Michael Stumpf. Mackintosh building Director’s Balcony.

‘O’ can be seeing something in the round. Where is the object positioned in relation to you? Can you move round it? Can you see inside it? What information do you need to understand what it is you are looking at?

Included in the ‘O’ of this essay are references to Michael Stumpf’s past work, descriptions of his present work for Glasgow International at The Glasgow School of Art (GSA), some Sesame Street philosophy  and other thoughts for you to include or exclude, as you encounter ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’.

'Ring', Michael Stumpf (2014). 'This song Belongs to Those who Sing It', The Glasgow school of Art. Photo: Janet Wilson

‘Ring’, Michael Stumpf (2014). ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’, The Glasgow School of Art. Photo: Janet Wilson

We first travel back to Michael’s exhibition ‘In My Eyeat the Pipe Factory, Glasgow in January 2014 [3]. A projection screen was placed in the middle of the gallery. In this action by the artist, the viewer was able to encounter the screen as a three-dimensional object as it could be walked around. The film playing on the screen presented a sequence of objects which slowly revolve: a small brown vase spins against a black backdrop; the camera circles an abandoned men’s black tap shoe. We are shown the surface of these two objects with the sheen of the glaze and the soft black leather and metal toe tap. We are then reminded that these objects have an interior as both begin to quietly emit smoke. The act of filming explores the object in a different way.

I am reminded of ‘In My Eye’, as we make choose the image for the GSA poster and invite for ‘This Song Belongs to Those Who Sing It’. Rather than repeat the same digital image across both, Michael decides to use the two flat surfaces to show front and back view of the same sculpture ‘The Sound of Silver‘ (2010).

'Sound of Silver', Michael Stumpf (2010). Recyled fabric, acrylic resin, denim, tap-shoes, powder coated steel. Front view.

‘Sound of Silver’, Michael Stumpf (2010). Recyled fabric, acrylic resin, denim, tap-shoes, powder coated steel. Front view.

'Sound of Silver', Michael Stumpf (2010). Recyled fabric, acrylic resin, denim, tap-shoes, powder coated steel. Back view.

‘Sound of Silver’, Michael Stumpf (2010). Recyled fabric, acrylic resin, denim, tap-shoes, powder coated steel. Back view.

Michael likes us to see things from different angles and to be aware of looking, “to see things in the round”. This can often be reflected in his choice of title. For the Pipe Factory exhibition it is ‘In My Eye’. In the Mackintosh Museum there are two pewter word sculptures separated by the void at the heart of the space, itself an inverted architectural ‘O’One says’Looking at me’. The second says ‘Looking at you‘.

Above the nose I’m sure you’ll agree / there are two things that help you see/ they help when Elmo looks at you / and you use yours to see Elmo too” [4]

'Looking at You', Michael Stumpf, detail 'This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It', GSA Photo: Janet Wilson

‘Looking at You’, Michael Stumpf, detail ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’ (2014) GSA Photo: Janet Wilson

GSA_StumpfLYouwidelores

What are we looking at in the Mackintosh Museum? Does it look back? The silver foil creates a smooth new skin on the longest wall. It offers up a new depth in the room. To the left, the reflection of the yellow-washed side wall folds back through the silver into infinite space. The painted right hand-side wall is reminiscent of a dawn or sunset, with the Mackintosh Museum’s resident headless Nike ‘facing’ towards this landscape composition. Both colour walls create a glow upon the burnished copper of the two Museum display cabinets which have been revealed for this exhibition and treated like sculptural objects. The polished glass on the case to the left of the director’s doorway becomes a mirror. The dark denim panel inside it provides a clear back drop and depth. Looking at me. There are no glass panels on the display case on the right. It is the same but different.

'Looking at me', Michael Stumpf (2014), detail. 'This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It', GSA Photo: Janet Wilson.

‘Looking at me’, Michael Stumpf (2014), detail. ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’, GSA Photo: Janet Wilson.

'Perplexed', Michael Stumpf (2014), 'This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It', GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson. Paper, calico, aerosol paint, denim, acrylic-resin, steel, tube clamps.

‘Perplexed’, Michael Stumpf (2014), ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’, GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson. Paper, calico, aerosol paint, denim, acrylic-resin, steel, tube clamps.

The three suspended works from the beams hang low to the floor, allowing us to circle them. Each of the works in the Museum has a different relationship to our body, as we look and relate to it. Is it recognisable?  What size are we in comparison to it? Does it change relating to where we are positioned? A gigantic denim triangle draws the eye up to take in the volume of this space.

'This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It', Michael Stumpf, Mackintosh Museum, GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson

‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’, Michael Stumpf, Mackintosh Museum, GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson

'Endless long bowed phrases', Michael Stumpf (2014). Denim, plywood, steel, tube clamp. 'This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It', GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson.

‘Endless long bowed phrases’, Michael Stumpf (2014). Denim, plywood, steel, tube clamp. ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’, GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson.

“When I imagine a triangle, even though such a figure may exist nowhere in the world except in my thought – indeed it may never have existed, there is none the less a certain nature or form, or particular essence of this figure that is immutable and eternal which I did not invent, and which in no way depends on my mind”. [5]

Both the Mackintosh building and Michael take a non-linear approach to time. There is a strange circular timeframe in the Mackintosh building where past, present and future co-exist all at once. Michael talks about trying to move differently within an artistic practice – “not to get sucked into following the one line”. He both revisits past works and ideas whilst moving forward in his practice, viewing materials and methods as an alphabet which can be drawn from. Small forms can potentially be big. A chain which appears graphically on the front of a past work called ‘Sweats‘ (2012), becomes a three dimensional work for this project.

'SWEATS Lovesong; Song (ring, chain, rope, nail, rock)' (2012), Michael Stumpf. Ongoing series of screenprinted sweatshirts.

‘SWEATS Lovesong; Song (ring, chain, rope, nail, rock)’ (2012), Michael Stumpf. Ongoing series of screenprinted sweatshirts.

'Ring', cast acrylic resin, 2014. Michael Stumpf. Mackintosh building Director's Balcony.

‘Ring’, cast acrylic resin, 2014. Michael Stumpf. Mackintosh building Director’s Balcony.

'Link (flame red/red)', 'Link (red)', 'Link (violet, red)', cast acrylic resin (2014), Michael Stumpf, GSA

‘Link (flame red/red)’, ‘Link (red)’, ‘Link (violet, red)’, cast acrylic resin (2014), Michael Stumpf, GSA

The links from the chain move from exterior to interior – as a single ‘O’ outside on the Mackintosh Building’s Director’s Balcony and as a communal gathering inside the Mackintosh Museum on its floor. Denim, the ‘everyman’ material and stone often appear in different forms throughout Michael’s work. Stone occurs as an ordered section of wall in 2005, on which two polo shirts rest [6] then in 2012/13 as the archaeological strata from which different objects protrude [7]. Here in the Mackintosh Museum in 2014, we see the ‘mother’ stone, sandstone which has been chiselled, and also a pink cast from the stone which is suspended from the beam. [8] Michael also includes a small vase he made in the 1980s which his mother has sent over for the exhibition.

'Song (Ring, Twig, Rock), sandstone, cast bronze, glass, steel, tube clamp (2014), Michael Stumpf. 'This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It', GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson.

‘Song (Ring, Twig, Rock), sandstone, cast bronze, glass, steel, tube clamp (2014), Michael Stumpf. ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’, GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson.

'Called Upon', Michael Stumpf (2014). Paper, denim, acrylic resin, aluminium, glazed ceramic steel, tube clamps, wood. 'This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It', GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson.

‘Called Upon’, Michael Stumpf (2014). Paper, denim, acrylic resin, aluminium, glazed ceramic steel, tube clamps, wood. ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’, GSA. Photo: Janet Wilson.

“O-O-O-O-O-O-O-Oooo…/Grow and Go / Roll over the road” [9]

For ‘The Balconies Commission’ here at The Glasgow School of Art, Michael was invited to work with the new pairing of the Mackintosh Building and the Reid Building. The resulting text sculpture NOW SING sits on the Reid Building balcony and can be viewed as a street scene with its corresponding neighbour, the ‘O’ on the Mackintosh Balcony.

'NOW SING', Michael Stumpf (2014), Reid Building Balcony, GSA Photo: Sarah Lowndes

‘NOW SING’, Michael Stumpf (2014), Reid Building Balcony, GSA Photo: Sarah Lowndes

Architect Steven Holl, designer of GSA’s Reid building, wrote ‘The Alphabetical City’ in 1980.  It examines how city buildings in USA conformed to different letter types depending on the shape of the site. There are ‘T’, ‘I’, ‘U’, ‘O’, ‘H’, ‘E’, ‘B’, ‘L’ and ‘X’ types of housing. ‘O’ Type Housing has an enclosed communal space at its centre.

If we view the ‘O’ architecturally as having the space inside, the outer walls and the space beyond it, Michael’s work for this exhibition is situated at three points- inside the Mackintosh Museum, on the exterior of the Mackintosh Building, then over the road on the Reid Building balcony.This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It should be considered as an exhibition across an expanded field.

The words ‘NOW SING’ have been handmade by the artist – a truly monumental endeavour. The orange of NOW and the pink of SING echo the beginning and end of one day [10]. To say NOW is strange, because as soon as it is said, it is in the past. The viewer will walk past NOW SING on the way in, and see NOW SING, later on the way out. NOW SING could be directly asking something of us or be a declaration of intent for the new building.

'NOW SING' detail (2014), Michael Stumpf. Cast acrylic resin, steel, wood.Installed on Reid Building balcony, GSA, 'This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It', GSA. Photo: Jenny Brownrigg

‘NOW SING’ detail (2014), Michael Stumpf. Cast acrylic resin, steel, wood.Installed on Reid Building balcony, GSA, ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’, GSA. Photo: Jenny Brownrigg

“O’s on the wall / O’s on the King and Queen’s costume / This is the Kingdom of ‘O’/ See all the O’s” [11]

Looking across to the Director’s Balcony on the Mackintosh Building, the ‘O’ placed on the railing is an open mouth on the façade [12]. After all, ‘façade’ is derived from the French for ‘face’.  The ‘O’ also mimics the circular shapes of Mackintosh on the building’s iron work or even the glass globes on the Mackintosh weathervane. Look up. It is also like the ‘O’ of the ‘driven voids’ which are three architectural features to be found in the Reid Building.

“One of these things is not like the other / One of these things doesn’t belong / Can you tell which thing is not like the other?/ By the time I finish this song?” [13]

Early on, Michael visited our Exhibitions office and showed us a Vimeo excerpt of Gregory Hines and his brother Maurice presenting ‘Near and Far’ for Sesame Street. Maurice says, “Now this is near“. Gregory then tap dances in a circle around him, and continues to tap across to the back of the set. He then says “Now this is far“. They swap positions, in order to emphasise that in these pairings, they only make sense if one is in relation and oppositional to the other.  Each time they trace a circle round each other before one moves off.

'NOW SING', Michael Stumpf (2014). View from Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow Photo: James Dean

‘NOW SING’, Michael Stumpf (2014). View from Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow Photo: James Dean

Dr Sarah Lowndes has said of Michael’s work, “It is the essential thing-ness of his objects that is the most striking aspect of his practice”. I like the word ‘thing-ness’, which could be seen as serious and playful at the same time. On one hand, in grammatical terms, ‘thing-ness’ is a derivational suffix of ‘thing’. A derivational suffix takes a word as a source or origin and then adds to it. Sing – Singer – Song. Michael chooses a material from his alphabet then adds to it. On the other hand, ‘thing-ness’ sounds like a Big Bird word.   ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’ is a communal offering for the architecture, its passers-by, The Glasgow School of Art community and its visitors.

Jenny Brownrigg, Exhibitions Director, The Glasgow School of Art. April 2014.

Text for: ‘This Song Belongs to Those who Sing It’, Michael Stumpf 4 April – 4 May 2014.

Footnotes

[1] Sesame Street – ‘Alphabet Chat Letter O’.

[2] Sesame Street -‘Big Bird and the Letter O’.

[3] ‘In My Eye’, Michael Stumpf 30/1 – 1/2/14, Pipe Factory, Glasgow.

[4] Sesame Street Lyrics – ‘Elmo Sings “Right in the Middle of the Face”’.

[5] René Descartes, ‘Discourse on the Method’, 1637.

[6] Collective Gallery, as part of New Work Programme, 2005.

[7] ‘This rhyme is 4 dimensional’, Michael Stumpf (2004-2012), shown in ‘Last Chance’, SWG3 Gallery, Glasgow. 8/12/12-19/1/13.

[8] Michael was classically trained as a stone mason before art school, so stone was a trade material for him before a creative material.

[9] Sesame Street Lyrics – ‘The O Song’.

[10] Text sculptures which declare, as an object, their own purpose or state have been a recurrent theme in Michael’s work. ‘Massive Angry Sculpture’ at Glucksmann Gallery in 2011 and ‘Fade to Black’, made at Scottish Sculpture Workshop in 2009 and shown in Leith Hall Gardens in Kennethmont, Aberdeenshire, are two examples of this strand in his practice.

[11] Sesame Street – ‘The Kingdom of ‘O’.

[12] Observation by Talitha Kotzé, The Glasgow School of Art Exhibitions co-ordinator.

[13] Sesame Street Lyrics – ‘One of These Things’.

'This Song Belongs to Those Who Sing It', Michael Stumpf (2014). Leaflet, cover.

‘This Song Belongs to Those Who Sing It’, Michael Stumpf (2014). Leaflet, cover.

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Portraits of a building: Ally Wallace

Lydia Shackleton (1828 –1914) was one of the early artists-in-residence in Europe. For twenty three years, from 1884 onwards, she painted at the Royal Botanic Gardens in Dublin. She produced over 1500 botanical studies, each time taping a pressed leaf or flower next to her study on paper, allowing for a comparison between the real thing and her copy.

Scottish Opera, Ally Wallace (2012)

Scottish Opera, Ally Wallace (2012) Photo: Ally Wallace

Ally Wallace has since 2011, undertaken a series of self-initiated artist residencies in different kinds of buildings, ranging from offices to museums [1].  Each time, at the conclusion, he uses the space he has been working in, whether its walls or objects found within, as his ‘page’. From large paper works and structures to small watercolour studies, all hold details from the surroundings and are presented back to the building, its inhabitants and visitors. The elements he chooses to focus on, whether a section of marble balustrade or a detail from a museum collection, float as fragments on the white page. Whilst still recognisable, the images are always translated into a different colour ways than their real nature. A green piano is placed on the green baize of a writing desk. The pink fold of a marble staircase is given a brown shadow. The act of showing the ‘copy’ within the original space where it was created, affords the viewer a new reading.

Scottish Opera, Ally Wallace (2012). Photo: Ally Wallace

Scottish Opera, Ally Wallace (2012). Photo: Ally Wallace

Plotting out the points where Wallace’s residencies have taken place in Glasgow, many of the buildings are hidden, as the city has adapted and shifted over time around them. In particular, The Martyr’s Public School in Townhead, Glasgow, is a case where motorway meets Mackintosh, with this early work by Charles Rennie Mackintosh only three minutes  from The Royal Infirmary and the east end flyover. In subtle ways Wallace’s work observes and reveals these shifts of use and change by casting a democratic and levelling eye over past and present situation in the details he chooses to record. During his residency at Martyrs School, now part museum, part offices, the longer Wallace spent observing, he saw modern office furniture of Glasgow Museums administration set against the Mackintosh tiles.

In 2012, Wallace negotiated with the host organisation, Scottish Opera, to allow access for individuals to see the conclusion of his residency at their private administrative offices at 39 Elmbank Street, Glasgow. I slipped out of a busy group residency where the Mackintosh Museum at The Glasgow School of Art had been transformed into an open studio [2], to visit a building that I had not realised existed, only ten minutes away from my place of work. Once an engineer’s office, the building has a sense of grandeur, with a sweeping staircase that leads up to the landing. Wallace described to me the time shift he felt within the building: “You can look through the windows and where the masts of the ships once were, now the lines of the multi-storey balconies float in front of your eyes.” Here on the first floor landing, I found an ‘orchestra’ of his works, placed in a semi circle on music stands, all lit by natural light from the cupola above. I remember feeling privileged at having been invited for this one-to-one encounter.  It is strangely unusual to feel like the work has just been placed there for you to see it.

'Stair Trace', Ally Wallace (2012) watercolour

‘Stair Trace’, Ally Wallace (2012) watercolour Photo: Ally Wallace

Wallace’s work always moves away from being just a surface reading of a space. The time of the residency allows him to move from a visual response to feeling like he is an element within the building; a ‘member of staff‘ rather than a visitor. During Wallace’s latest residency at the Lillie Art Gallery in Milngavie [3], he used the gallery as an open studio for a few days a week, chatting with any visitors who came through. This has resulted in the exhibition ‘Connected Parts’ (until 20 March 2014). By placing himself so publicly on show as ‘the artist’, he was reminded of the artist figure of Tony Hancock in ‘The Rebel’ (1961, Associated British Picture Corporation). In the film, Hancock gives up his office job and bowler hat to move to Paris to become a beret wearing artist. With such exchanges between Hancock and his disbelieving art landlady (the wonderful Irene Handel) who is less than charitable about contemporary art – “I’ m not one of the realist school of art, I’m an impressionist. / Well, it don’t impress me.” – the film is satirical in its treatment of the artist having a certain kind of persona and pretentious ideas which he believes no-one, critics or audience, has the right to question. The time spent in the Lillie Gallery allowed Wallace to question his own notions of what a traditional art audience may be and expect from visiting a gallery.

'Connected Parts', Ally Wallace (2012) Lillie Art Gallery. Photo: Alan Dimmick

‘Connected Parts’, Ally Wallace (2012) Lillie Art Gallery. Photo: Alan Dimmick

In the first gallery, Gallery 2, Wallace produced a freestanding structure, which displays large paper works [4] with simplified details from bronze sculptures held in the Lillie Gallery’s Collection.  The structure creates a new threshold within the gallery, shielding the visitor from the gallery entrance. The physicality of the materials Wallace uses, very much play with the traditional elements within the gallery. The untreated wooden struts of the framework, found in a nearby skip, are the same width as the painted strips of wood forming the double picture rail that circumnavigated all the gallery spaces. Moreover, the screen’s construction allows for the front and back of the paper works to be presented to the viewer, in a venue that perhaps may predominantly choose a classic museum hang. The paper Wallace uses is roughly cut rather than a standard size. This means the viewer is drawn to the paper’s physicality, as more than just a surface, for example in the detail of the way that the paint has dried, wrinkling the paper slightly. The circular cut out within one of the paper works allows for new views through to a red work on the far away wall. The circle, looking up through it, echoes the circular steel spotlight fitting in the lowered rectangular ceiling. Wallace’s way of working utilises the architecture and detail of the gallery and is not afraid to draw attention to the choices made in the space which make it what it is. The largest painted work makes use of this gallery’s floating ceiling, hung from its edge, creating a paper wall. Another paper work uses the picture rail, but is hung so it follows the contour of the corner of the room, rather like a piece of fabric in its gentle fold and change of direction.

'Connected Parts', Ally Wallace (2014) The Lillie Art Gallery Photo: Alan Dimmick

‘Connected Parts’, Ally Wallace (2014) The Lillie Art Gallery Photo: Alan Dimmick

In the opposite corner, there is a little collection of smaller works, formally gathered together, around a cardboard structure. Each of works holds a detail from still-life paintings that Wallace chose from the collection. By citing the artists’ names in this part of the installation- ‘After Anne Redpath’, ‘After Leon Morocco’, ‘After Cynthia Wall’– Wallace is very mindful that the collection is part of the DNA of this particular building and that he is, as he puts it, “making art about art“. The roughness of the cardboard totem works well within this arrangement. As the brown of the cardboard still shows through the paint that has been applied to it, it’s surface echoes the tactile nature of the hessian walls, where the grid of the fabric is still archaeologically discernible through the layers of white paint that have covered it over the years.

Moving through into the next gallery, Gallery 3, with its blood red interior, this particular space acts like an expanded notebook for Gallery 2 and the residency, including studies of elements of the Lillie Gallery as well as 2d and 3d design ideas for Wallace’s resulting work. Watercolour studies of the linoleum floor pattern in the lobby, as well as observations of the shapes of specific door handles in the venue, show how the artist has made his in depth inventory. Recording the life of the building in such a way, fine tunes how I, as the viewer, spend my time in the space, as well as altering my attention to take in the elements beyond the work. As I move around the space on my second visit, I enjoy the glitter of the gallery floor’s silver surface and eavesdropping on the life of the building, in particular a conversation between the gallery staff and a visitor who is passing time. Subjects for discussion include how to cook pork, the making of shoes for strange shaped feet and a discussion about World War One: “Why do people go to war for no reason, because of one man who upset the caboodle? What a character. He was a real menace“.

'Connected Parts', Ally Wallace, The Lillie Art Gallery (2014) Photo: Alan Dimmick

‘Connected Parts’, Ally Wallace, The Lillie Art Gallery (2014) Photo: Alan Dimmick

In coming away from The Lillie Art Gallery, I carry with me an expanded portrait of the building, its inhabitants and the collection it takes care of. In particular, The Lillie Art Gallery should be commended for placing importance on creating a space within its programme for artists to take the next step in their practice, whether it is Ally Wallace or The Glasgow Group, who exhibited concurrently with ‘Connected Parts’. In particular, I have enjoyed Wallace’s painterly handling of colour, with bold acid yellows and pinks placed next to metallic silver and retiring beige. With the colours resonating in my mind, it seems fitting to conclude with another quote from ‘The Rebel’, which came out the year before the Lillie Gallery was established. Hancock has come up with an art movement and theory when put on the spot by another painter and calls it ‘The Shape-ists’.

The colours shouldn’t end where the shapes end. They should send out a glow in the air. Why? Why? We’ll take this room for instance. At the moment I feel this room to be indigo. Can’t you feel it? No. Oh dear. An article will always suggest its own colour. Irrespective of the colour it’s transmitting. To me at the moment I feel this room to be transmitting indigo, with a feeling of the octagonal. Yes that’s it. Indigo octagon. This is incredible. An entirely new conception of art.

Jenny Brownrigg. March 2014

Footnotes

1.Residencies at Scottish Opera’s office in 39 Elmbank Rd; RMJM Architects Hope Street office; and Summerlee, the Museum of Scottish Industrial Life.

2.Three Points of Contact Residency, The Glasgow School of Art leg 2012: http://issuu.com/threepointsofcontact/docs/threepointsofcontact

3.Milngavie is at the beginning of the West Highland Way, which leads onto 95 miles northwards to Fort William. The Lillie Art Gallery is a municipal gallery which opened in 1962 and has a collection of around 450 works of Scottish art dating from the 1880s to present day. It was built due to a bequest by banker and artist Robert Lillie (1867-1949).

4.In the 19th Century, Milingavie was a minor industrial centre with paper mills and bleach works on the Allander River. It seems fitting that Ally Wallace’s large paper works are here at the Lillie Art Gallery.

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This is the time: past, present and future at The Glasgow School of Art

The article below was published in ‘The Past in the Present’, Engage: the international journal of visual art and gallery education, issue 31, P.79-88, Autumn 2012. Editor: Karen Raney

Download:  ENGAGE_journal31_brownrigg

[excerpt]

“The Mackintosh Museum, built in 1909, is at the heart of Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s masterwork, The Glasgow School of Art’s Mackintosh Building. With its high level of architectural detail inside and outside, the museum is the antithesis of the ‘white cube’. This essay will explore the ways in which the contemporary exhibitions programme for the gallery space within this iconic building can create a critical exchange between present, past and future”. 

'The Immortals' by Folkert de Jong, GSA 2012 Photo: Janet Wilson
‘The Immortals’ by Folkert de Jong, GSA 2012 Photo: Janet Wilson
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Human Schemes

Many megaliths were destroyed or defaced by the early Christians.

Sighthill Standing Stones, Glasgow. Photo: Julie Ramage

Sighthill Standing Stones, Glasgow. Photo: Julie Ramage

The Monkland Canal, to the north of the Sighthill Standing Stones, was constructed in sections between 1794 to 1797 in order to bring coal from Monkland to Glasgow. In 1952 the canal was closed to navigation. Due to the construction of the M8 motorway, sections of the canal were infilled.

St Rollox Chemical Works, for the production of bleaching liquor and powder for the textile industry existed here from 1797 to 1964.

The Sighthill Housing Scheme was built by Glasgow City Corporation from 1964 to 1969.

The M8 motorway, which runs alongside the site and bisects the city, was built between 1968 and 1972 under Glasgow City Corporation.

The Callaghan government created the Job Creation Scheme in 1978.

The Thatcher government abolished the Job Creation Scheme in 1979.

Through the Job Creation Scheme, Glasgow Parks’ Astronomy Scheme built the Sighthill Stone Circle in 1979. The project was designed and led by Duncan Lunan.

The stones were from Auchinstarry Quarry, Kilsyth. The quarry closed in the 1980s’ and is now used for fishing and climbing activities. The stones were brought to the site by a Royal Navy helicopter.

The Sighthill Stones are placed at points of sunset and sunset at the Equinox. This system follows later beliefs relating to why megaliths were originally built.

The demolition of five of the Sighthill high rises took place 2008-2009.

This site is currently marked for regeneration, linked to a Youth Games in Glasgow bid for 2018. Plans are to relocate the stones and demolish the remaining monoliths that surround them, to make way for an athletes village and park. This bid is by Glasgow City Council, The Scottish Government and the British Olympic Association.

Sighthill Standing Stones, Glasgow. Photo: Jenny Brownrigg

Sighthill Standing Stones, Glasgow. Photo: Jenny Brownrigg