Art, Craft and Horse Riding in Scotland

The Clyde once a bustling motorway for ships is now a playground for yacht enthusiasts. I came into sailing through an interest in boats gained from having messed around in a rowing boat as a kid.

My introduction to yachting though was perverse. I gained the theoretical qualification of ‘day skipper’ before I had set foot on a yacht. My opportunity came when one of my neighbours offered me a place on his boat. It was a brand-new 30-foot boat with umpteen winches and ropes all over the place, and built for speed in light airs. A funny choice I thought for windy Scotland.

I crewed three times and then it was straight into the ‘Scottish Series’ of yacht races. While I was the biggest novice some of the others had little more experience. Thankfully we had a skilled helmsman.

The boats muster point was Port Glasgow for the first race. It involved a 100-mile race around Ailsa Craig and then around the back of the Isle of Arran and up to the finishing line at Talbot at the top end of the Clyde. The race started as the sun was setting. We had red sails in the sunset - about as romantic as it gets.

As usual in the Clyde the wind proved variable. It blew up to a gale when we were going up the Kilbrandon Sound behind the Isle of Arran. Fortunately it was behind us but we didn’t slacken our effort. A spinnaker, a blanket like sail flown forward of the mast drove the boat over its theoretical speed.

The log read 17 knots as we surged down a steep wave and into the next one. The boat was responding less and less to the helm as we half slewed and half crashed into each wave. Eventually we went over (broached) with the mast and sails entering the water. I was new to this game and didn’t know the likely outcome but the word ‘sink’ entered my head. I was hanging on to the upper guard rail looking down at a fellow crew member on the lower rail with his behind in the water. He had the most curious look on his face, which seemed to say ‘I wish I were somewhere else’. The helmsman shouted let go the sheets. With the pressure released on the sails the boat popped up again.

Undeterred we continued under too much sail. Eventually the spinnaker ripped. No problem a tape meant for the purpose fixed it temporarily. Seeing a sister craft, owned by the person who had sold my friend this boat, we headed for it. He didn’t have a use for his spinnaker as he had lost his mast. He didn’t smile though when we shouted a request to borrow his and he refused. We crossed the line still broaching.

Ashore sailors in yellow yachting boots - the fashion of the year - were everywhere. The pubs did a roaring trade and the week passed in an alcoholic haze. How we were all fit for each day’s exhausting races was amazing. Even stranger despite the lack of initial experience on-board we finished third in our class. I guess we learned fast through necessity. Interestingly the boat never did so well again despite having more experienced crew.

I went on to have my own boat a 27-foot Albin Vega, ‘Frigg’ for 18 years. At first I thought of changing the name because of its unfortunate connotations but it grew on me and people remembered it. It was a family boat and I had many enjoyable cruises on it. I only raced it one season and won the club medal. When my family grew up and left I sold it to three people from Ireland. Two of these (from Belfast University) bring the boat over once a year for a get together and I think my approval to changes they have made to the boat. She is now like a wee palace!

I am now back crewing on the boat I started on. There is a pecking order on-board and as I have joined last I am helmsman number three. On the two occasions I have had a chance to helm in a cup race I ended up with my name on the cup but I know my place – helmsman number three!!!

Coursing through the heart of Glasgow is the River Clyde. Upstream at the Falls of Clyde its power once turned the cotton mills of innovative New Lanark. Reaching Glasgow it slowed and widened. People here used to wade across its muddy depth. Being tidal though gave the opportunity to deepen and canalise its channel to enabled ships to steam into the city. While ‘The Clyde made Glasgow, Glasgow also made the Clyde’. This river became mother of 90% of all the world’s metal ships in 1900.

The ‘Tobacco Lords’ laid the foundation to this tale. They imported tobacco into Glasgow from the American Colonies and sold it within Scotland and onwards to England and France. They amassed huge wealth by shrewd dealing. While English traders paid in cash Scottish traders seizing the opportunity to also provide the industrial goods the growers needed. By so doing ships were laden both outward and inward bound. This trade ended with the American War of Independence in 1775, which ended Britain’s stranglehold on the trade.

Banks, insurance companies, lawyers and industries multiplied in Glasgow in the tobacco years. Combined with Scottish reserves of coal, iron, steel, cheap labour and its supporting colleges and universities, the city powered into dramatic growth.

The banks of the Clyde sprouted wharves and giant cranes, and resounded to the rattle of rivet guns. Huge engine works turned out ships engines and locomotives for the world’s railways. ‘Clyde Built’ became the badge of excellence. Skills grew, confidence grew, and compliancy grew. The Clyde industrialists felt that no one could challenge their dominant position. How wrong could they be? From leaders they became followers. In the face of the power of trades to protect their skills industries found it difficult to adjust and adapt. Two world Wars caused an explosion in orders but the seeds of decline were ever-present. Political interference in merging shipbuilding yards failed to halt the decline.

The last great commercial ship built was the QE2. Shortly she will make her final voyage to the river that gave her birth. Nowadays the Clyde shipbuilders are specialist naval builders. Two giant aircraft carriers are now on the slipways.

The banks of the Clyde now once again bristle with cranes but this time employed in producing innovative office blocks and homes needed in a city reborn as a business and a holiday centre. Braehead, a giant shopping centre on the Banks of the Clyde, as well as housing an indoor ski centre also has a museum ‘Clyde Built’. It brings to life the story of Glasgow's development from the Tobacco Lords in the 1700's right up to the 21st century. It uses audio-visual, hands-on and interactive techniques to allow you to navigate your own ship, load your cargo, take the role of a merchant, control a ship’s engine and go aboard the 130-year-old coaster "Kyles". A great day out for old and young kids!

When so much of our inheritance is disappearing ‘Clyde Built’ plays an important role in linking our past to the present. As for the River Clyde it just rolls on regardless of whether it is deep, shallow, narrow or wide and it has been all four due to Glasgow manipulating its passage to the sea to meet the city’s needs.

Charles Rennie Mackintosh, outstanding architect, furniture designer, and painter, is one of the most innovative figures of the early 20th century. Born in 1868 near Glasgow Cathedral, he is one of the most celebrated architects of his generation. His designs out of favour in his latter days gained in popularity in the decades following his death in London in 1928.

Mackintosh pioneered the Modern Movement in Britain. Artistic collaboration with his wife Margaret Macdonald, whom he first met at Glasgow School of Art, extended his frontiers. He took his inspiration from Scottish traditions and blended them with the flourish of Art Nouveau and the simplicity of Japanese forms. By skilful exploitation of natural and artificial lighting and use of detail, his buildings are notable for their elegance and fitness for purpose.

Some of his furniture pieces have become icons. These employ mostly simple straight lines, curves, triangles, rectangles and grids. His colours are mostly black, white, red, blue and green.

He won a competition to design the Glasgow School of Art, his first commission and most important building. Sited at the edge of a steeply sloping south-facing hill, the building stretches along an entire block. Built between 1897 and 1909 it reflects his genius.

Mackintosh ignored the architecture of Greece and Rome as unsuitable for the climate, and needs of Scotland. He believed that a revival of the Scottish Baronial style, adapted to modern society suited better. His buildings display this belief.

He designed everything about the Art School, the interiors in collaboration with his future wife Margaret Macdonald. Art nouveau floral and geometric motifs bring scale and colour to the rooms in the details contained in mantle pieces, lighting fixtures, carpets, furniture, and crockery.

He felt that each design should work as a whole to which each detail contributes. Mackintosh's believed the most essential features of a building should have ornamentation. To this end he employed art nouveau motifs of floral and geometric motifs in the ironwork and tiles, and modern materials and techniques such as large, industrial windows.

Roomy art studios along the north side with large windows give students well-lit working spaces while smaller ancillary rooms and offices make up the back. The library built in 1906 on the west, I found curious. Darkly finished wood pillers supports its mezzanine and ceiling. The pendant light fixtures, glass bookcases, carved balusters, chairs and work tables are all designed with art nouveau motifs, polychrome paint and metal details. All surfaces are dark except for tiny touches of red, blue and green. It avoids distractions but is scarcely stimulating.

He plays with people’s perceptions as the building appearing almost upside-down with rooms such as arched cellars appearing at the top of the building.

While I engage in design as a recreational woodturner my work is in balance. His often appears out of balance. A person on my escorted tour of the building reckoned that is the difference between art and design. It has created icons out of some of Mackintosh’s designs.

Among my earliest memories are two large farm horses, Prince and Dick, on my father’s farm. Once my father picked me up and placed me on the back of Prince. My little legs stuck straight out across the massive back and I felt so insecure. Bareback riding at the age of about three – a natural talent surely? Shortly afterwards horsepower gave way to tractor power.

I didn’t bother with horses after that until I retired. Shortly afterwards I went along to the Ayrshire Equestrian Centre for a half-hour lesson. As the Welsh Cob called Giles stepped forward I felt like throwing my arms around his neck I felt so insecure – echoes of my childhood here! Soon though I settled down and even started correcting Giles immediately he tried taking advantage. Giles seemed in a lazy mood. Eventually though I urged him into a trot and without any instruction I moved naturally with the horse into a rising trot.

Horse riding seemed easy and it wasn’t until my family started pressing me for ideas on birthday presents that I decided to take it further but at their expense this time! I had firmly believed that I had mastered the art in my previous half-hour lesson. My new mount Chester knew differently.

The problem was my instructor. I got on fine with her as a person and obeyed her instructions. These however conflicted with what I had picked up as a child and with my own instincts. She dealt with symptoms rather than getting to the root of problems.

I felt comfortable with horses because of my upbringing and I felt I could figure out correct technique for myself if given the chance. On discussing my views on riding with someone knowledgeable I discovered that what I was seeking was ‘natural horsemanship’. Few riding schools unfortunately teach it.

Rather strange to get a riding instructor so out of phase with the student for horses now teach business people about leadership, creative thinking and communication. It's called Equine Assisted Professional Development (EAPD).

Horses being sensitive but non-judgmental can act as a mirror for our behaviour. Their reactions to our body language can teach us how others interpret our management style. To manage a horse properly we have to gain its confidence and that's what’s wanted in the workplace.

In a herd of horses, the lead horse commands others through its own actions. In business if a manager lacks confidence or clarity people will comply with what is asked for, but they won't necessarily buy in to the idea because of lack of belief in the management. This is just what I was doing with my instructor.

When I eventually went back for another attempt I had several different instructors. They and I seemed more on the same wavelength and Bell my latest mount seemed happy with me as well. Now that I know that horses are such a brilliant species I will treat her with the utmost respect and earn my leadership role through confidence and clarity.

A few years back when asked by the three members of my family what I would like for my birthday, I asked for some vouchers for golf lessons, horse riding lessons and woodturning lessons. I hadn’t had time to try out those pursuits while working. Now retired it seemed an ideal time to try everything I had ever had a notion of doing. At the back of my mind also was the thought there had to be something I was mega good at.

I took to woodturning like a duck to water and regard it as a recreation. After five lessons and an investment in a lathe, a power supply for the garage and various tools I was all set. Soon my family and friends had absorbed as many of my creations as they could cope with so I turned to craft fairs. By producing attractive designed gifts, ornaments and household items at a quality and price acceptable to the public I did well. Maybe some day I will cover my costs!

I have on offer: pens, mushrooms, boxes, candlesticks, vases, bowls, platters, cheese boards, tea light holders, goblets, clocks, letter openers. For children I produce spinning tops and yo-yos.

I believe in simple designs that bring out the natural beauty of wood. The proportions of a piece are critical. Get them wrong and the piece seems unbalanced. I usually arrive at them by eye but sitting behind correct proportions is a mathematical formula arrived at by the ancient Greeks called the Golden Mean, which I occasionally fall back on. It approximates to the rule of thirds employed in photography.

Recently Charlie at ‘Just Wood’ in Ayr who has a shop dealing in supplies for woodturners arranged a weekend of demonstrations from professional woodturners -my chance to learn more about my craft.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I entered the gymnasium Charlie had hired for the occasion. Two hundred and fifty people waited expectedly. There are many people like me out there! Besides woodturning there were also demonstrations in pyrography and woodcarving.

Andy Lodge and Mick Hanbury from Yorkshire carried out the woodturning demonstrations. Both do production woodturning - producing at a fast rate to a market standard. In addition they also produce fancy goods for galleries and fairs. Mick had the strange experience of having paid £500 to attend a London fair. On day one he sold nothing. A woodcarver there suggested his prices were to low. He tripled them and sales soared - interesting!!! He also believes in producing useless items for he can charge higher prices for them – Art?

Both have a sense of humour and were constantly scoring points of each other. For example when Mick was talking about the ‘elements’ of woodturning Andy cracked ‘I haven’t seen any elephants’.

I picked up several ideas I will try, and spent more than I expected on addition equipment. I guess that was what the demonstrations were really about but it was great entertainment and free admission.

For examples of my work see: http://woodturningcraft.co.uk.