Taigh Chearsabhagh, Lochmaddy, North Uist, until 31 December 2008

Andy Goldsworthy (Photo - Stephen Carter)

ANDY Goldsworthy is not a name to be trifled with. As one of the leading environmental artists in the UK – not to mention the world – Goldsworthy has defined the art of the ephemeral. He moulds nature into something evocative, something beautiful, or something just plain odd – and then watches it disappear, his creation no match for our mother earth.

The undeniable forces of nature to do exactly what it wills are nowhere more apparent than in the Hebrides; and Goldsworthy is the perfect artist to capture that tension, that energy, that impression that each and every dune or stone or machair flower is on the cusp of being altered somehow by the impressive forces of wind and tide. But despite Goldsworthy being the one of the few artists who can interpret the landscape of the Isles, his North Uist Works are nowhere near as good as he is.

Taigh Chearsabhagh’s exhibition obviously cannot include any element of the works themselves, these having been washed away soon after his springtime visit; so instead, the exhibition is composed of photos taken by the artist. These selections, a dozen or so framed prints of each work, are not art in themselves: they are the only record of the art, capturing its alterations in the stages of collapse.

These are, admittedly, fascinating. There is something mesmerising about watching the changing forms of a huge ball made from wet sand, stones and seaweed; or a ring of sheep’s wool on stones, which looks for all the world like a ripple on water; or seaweed making curving lines in the sand. But even more fascinating is the DVD of a lecture Goldsworthy gave after his week in Uist had come to an end, running on a continuous loop alongside the exhibition.

A maximum of two visitors at a time can sit down, pick up the earphones, and see a slide show of Goldsworthy’s works, examples selected by the artist himself, as he discusses his week in Uist and the processes of his other artistic works.

A great deal of this work is set in Dumfriesshire, the adopted home of the Cheshire-born, Yorkshire-bred artist. It’s seeing the work Goldsworthy had done there, in the woods and moors near his home, that really proves his credibility to those not familiar with him. He admits that even after working in a landscape for 20 years, he is continually finding new things – which is exactly the problem with the Uist material. He simply hasn’t had enough time to get to know the environment, to build up a fruitful connection.

The other major obstactle for Goldsworthy was the quite formidable Uist climate. In his artistic life, Goldsworthy has managed to coerce dozens of huge jagged rocks into performing a balancing act the likes of which is seen elsewhere only in cartoons, creating a mosaic more than 12 feet tall and just as wide: his huge heavy boulders defy gravity.

Goldsworthy has worked with elements normally considered unmovable, and in dozens of difficult landscapes; but the Uist wind was a match for him, keeping the artist battering on to make something that would remain a concrete piece of art, if only for a short period of time.

It’s understandable that Goldsworthy’s three major Uist pieces do not rise to the level of his usual work – the artist is just as powerless to overcome that fierce Uist wind and tide as the other elements of nature are. He admits to having to fight, give up, and fight again when confronted with the North Uist machair’s forces; and in only a few days, two of his cameras fell victim to wind and sand.

“I didn’t realise that coming to Uist would be that intense,” said Goldsworthy in his lecture. “Obviously, the total lack of trees is something I have never experienced anywhere. After awhile you get to like it.

“I didn’t make any great kind of mammoth step forward. This is a tough landscape to prise something out of it – one week is not enough.”

Goldsworthy does however admit that the elements reinforced his belief that working with nature is best wherever possible. “Those moments during this last week where instead of fighting the wind, turning with it – those are going to be exciting in the work,” said Goldsworthy.

Alongside the running DVD are several books and magazines provided by Taigh Chearsabhagh. Several focus on Goldsworthy’s various works, and some feature interviews with him. These allow visitors to get a bit of a potted history on Goldsworthy himself and the field of environmental art, enabling exhibition-hunters to learn a bit about why he does what he does.

“I feel like every time I go to work, the work comes to life – I bring it to life, and then it dies,” said Goldsworthy, in an interview with the art periodical 4th Door. “Every day, there is this great sense of loss; every day, we lose our youth as we grow, we are losing our parents, losing people we know – we are losing all the time.

“It hurts me to see these things die, fall down, collapse, decay. The changes actually make the work stronger, so it develops into something else. It’s not the material I’m interested in so much as the connection to the whole, and to the whole place.”

And as for his work in Uist, Goldsworthy seems to regard it as the beginning rather than the end.

“It’s not my job to improve on or enhance nature,” said Goldsworthy. ” I cannot do that. I cannot really understand the place unless I have worked with it – and I have learned so much about this place through the work.

“I feel like I have had some feelers out, and made some connection to build on in the future.”

© Eileen Bell, 2008

Links

• Taigh Chearsabhagh

• Andy Goldsworthy Digital Catalogue Project