Saturday, April 30, 2022

Scotland in Art: Bridges - Esther

I hate to sound like a hater, but I am not a fan of bridges. Bridges of ALL KINDS freak me out. I CAN look at them, although I intensely dislike the look of suspension bridges & any huge bridge, since they remind me of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge Disaster. I’m sure you know it. The one where the bridge sways & twists until it eventually collapses (killing one dog). I saw the film clip of that as a child & I’m sure that’s where my gephyrophobia began. Hailed as the third longest suspension bridge in the world, it collapsed four months after opening. Not good odds. I had a little look at the clip in advance of writing this & I can confirm that I nearly brought up my breakfast. It’s a hideous feeling & I now have a splitting headache. One description mentioned the deck OSCILLATING. Shiver.

& I know that bridge was in the US but it was caused by HIGH WINDS. Scotland gets high winds! & it looks similar to bridges in Scotland. So the Forth bridges – road & rail respectively – make me think of that & I’ve had to use them a lot. They’ve opened up another road bridge & the old one is still there. It makes you wonder WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THE OLD ONE.

Looking at even the NEW (1887) Tay Bridge (because the old one COLLAPSED IN HIGH WINDS), it seems too long. I know: physics. But it doesn’t seem right or that it’ll work. How can it hold anything? Plus, the stumps of the original bridge can still be seen poking out of the water as a constant REMINDER of the folly of your journey. AND they had to “strengthen” the current one in 2003…WHY WAS THAT NECESSARY?

To me, this is all barely a phobia. It’s a perfectly sensible, reasonable survival plan. It’s my brain saying a big old nope to something I know is unsafe.

I’ve overcome it to an extent, otherwise I’d fail to get anywhere. After all, Scotland is littered with bridges, simply because it is littered with tributaries, rivers, streams, falls, lochs, canals, firths, harbours, inlets, ponds, reservoirs & springs. Sadly bridges are a way of getting from A to B in the quickest way possible. Personally, I’d happily add on an extra hour or two to my journey to go ROUND bodies of water. It’s the 21st Century: I have books & an iPod. But no no, everyone insists that longer travel is BAD FOR THE ENVIRONMENT or something, so we all have to take the quicker route. The route over the bridges.

You’ll appreciate then, that I’m incredibly brave facing up to this week’s artworks. 

Cross that bridge when I come to it? Okay, but don’t make me look down.


Tay Bridge Disaster (19th Century)

Exactly my point.


Castle Bridge, Scotland (1937), Francis Ferdinand Maurice Cook (1907-1978)

At least this seems more sturdy & isn’t too long. It’s a short dash over Castle Bridge. Cook’s quick brush strokes denote a rushing stream, so it’s just as well. The exact location is unclear & this is the case with many landscape (including bridge) artworks based in Scotland. 


River Landscape With a Bridge (19th Century), Unknown 

When the concept & then taste for landscapes as pleasing visual images took hold (as opposed to frightening & impenetrable terrains) artists were quick to make the most of it. Anyone with a decent eye & a way with a pencil could knock out an image that may or may not sell – you might be drawing for your own pleasure. In this way, we have been left hundreds of drawings & paintings by unknown artists. Forgotten things left in attics or cupboards or old boxes that hadn’t seen the light of day until someone was throwing things out; then they thought the local museum might like to have it. It’s a sensitive drawing of another unnamed spot & I’m sure someone would recognise it. Unless of course the bridge has since COLLAPSED. 


Forth Bridge, Scotland for Holidays Railway  - BR (British Rail) (1952), Terence Cuneo (1907-1996)

An almost bearable view of the Forth Rail Bridge & an accomplished painting. But to me it looks complicated & industrial & full of holes. It’s no doubt supposed to engender confidence & encourage us to get up & go. “Come to Scotland!” it says. “It’ll be fun!” it says. It doesn’t point out the GAPS, which you can see whilst you’re actually on the bridge.


Winter at Bantaskine Bridge (1980), Alexander Robertson (1916-1992)

Robertson’s is a much more tranquil scene & it looks so still, it’s as if Falkirk’s Union Canal beneath has frozen. It’s a very simple & recognisable portrayal of a bridge that still stands today after over 200 years. 


Wilsontown Ironworks Gates (2012), P. Johnson & Company & Barry Hearse (attributed to)

Although the ironworks closed in 1842, they have been preserved as a heritage site & industrial archaeological landscape. In its day, the South Lanarkshire works was a forerunner in the development of technology & manufacture of iron. There were a series of bridges for ease of movement around the complex, as seen in the gate image.


Landscape With a Bridge (1740s), James Norie (1684-1757)

Another unnamed bridge with the sort of imaginary, dramatic & romantic Scottish landscape that Norie would produce regularly.


Dumbarton in Glassmaking Days (?), I. Clark (?)

Again, a bridge associated with industry & despite how little I’ve been able to find out about the artist & painting, we can assume it’s a 19th Century work. The glassworks in Dumbarton opened in 1777 but was most successful from 1800 to the 1830s.


Landscape With Houses & Ancient Bridge (c. 1934), John Maxwell (1905-1962)

The wonkiness of the bridge is thankfully mirrored in the wonkiness of everything else, so I’m sure it’s fine. 


Edinburgh Abstract (c. 1936-38), William George Gillies (1898-1973)

I do like the abstraction of the bridge & some recognisable features in this painting. Wobbly but in an interesting way. 


Crianlarich, Stirling (1951), Zaid Salih (1922-1986)

A wonderfully gentle, non-threatening exercise in grey & brown.


The Lass of Ballochmyle Panel (1900), Frank McNichol (active 1900)

The small sort of rickety wooden bridge that you still occasionally see over smaller bodies of water & there’s even Robert Burns sitting on the right.


Wreckage From the Tay Bridge (1880), Hugh Collins (c. 1834-1896)

There’s plenty of this sort of thing & I don’t know why it doesn’t haunt EVERYONE.





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