The Kelpies
When we first saw the Kelpies from distance they took our breath away. They are iconic sculptures that dominate the skyline near Falkirk. In fact, they match the awe in which I hold the Fiddlers Green sculpture on the quay at Tynemouth, and that is one of the most impressive things I have ever seen. One early morning, at the mouth of The River Tyne, I stood, moved to tears, in the company of a lone fisherman silently lamenting the loss of his comrades at sea.
Today I am to encounter The Kelpies, two more astonishing works of art. They are representations of two Clydesdale Horses and both they and Fiddlers Green are innovative and intensely moving works of art.
It’s raining, a steady Borders drizzle - much like Pennine-Lancashire drizzle in fact, which I’m used to.
But The Kelpies don’t mind the rain, they almost shine through it, in fact, their pristine, stainless steel splendour is accentuated by it. They are silver and alive, incandescent against a dead, grey background. Whether I’m getting over-emotional because it’s raining, I’m not sure, but one fact is inescapable - they are truly incredible.
With help from ‘Scottish Canals’ website, I learn that The Kelpies stand 30-metres tall and are the centrepiece of a 350 hectare eco-park called The Helix. They stand either side of a lock which is part of a new canal extension linking the Forth & Clyde Canal to the North Sea. They pay homage to the working horses of Scotland which used to pull barges along Scotland’s canals and worked in the fields in the area where they now stand. The Kelpies are the result of a unique collaboration between ‘the partners’ (among them, Falkirk Council, Sustrans, British Waterways (Scotland) and The Scottish Government) in association with Glasgow-based artist Andy Scott.
They are made from 600 tonnes of structured steel and almost 500 unique pieces of high grade stainless steel, 6 mm thick. At 300 tonnes each, each head is supported on a 12,000-tonne reinforced concrete base. The pair are held together by more than 10,000 special fastenings and they are the world’s largest equine sculptures.
Those are the bare facts; amazing and impressive enough in their own right, it’s not what really left an impression on me.
Firstly, it’s the scale of them. They are not only tall, they are enormous of bulk. The two are quite different in character, though both look powerful and muscular. I stand below the one on the left, he’s looking down at me with his huge mouth closed, set solid and hard below a massive nostril. From nearly 30-metres above, I’m glared at by a shiny, malevolent eye. And it IS me he’s glaring at, no doubt about that. Above his eye, an ear pokes up and there are suggestions of a mane on his neck. There’s nothing particularly friendly about him and I’m left in no doubt who is boss. His look says, 'look what you've done to my brother'.
His sibling is altogether different. No less magnificent, but this guy is looking up and away to the heavens as if in perpetual pain. His mouth is open and you can almost hear his wail as he looks up to the skies. The anger, fear and frustration of his forebears is captured in his pose.
I don’t know Andy Scott meant to give those impressions when he created them, but it doesn’t matter in a way because art is, after all, subjective. What I do know is that these wonderful sculptures have left a big impression on me.
(Click n the images to enlarge them and perhaps you'll see what I mean.)
My impressions above were made before I was aware of the sub-plot associated with The Kelpies.
They are of Scottish folklore are not as benign as many like to believe. According to a number of historic sources, a kelpie is a dangerous shape-shifting water creature that can appear on land as a horse. The kelpie appears to their human victims as a grey or white horse, enticing them to ride on their back before plunging into a body of water to carry them down to a watery grave.
This in contrast to Selkies, another creature of Scottish folklore, who are also shapeshifters, yet benign and likeable. Selkies transform between seal and human form by shedding and replacing their skin. In their human form, selkie folk are always referred to as being incredibly attractive. They are graceful, kind natured and amorous, resulting in any humans coming across them falling desperately in love.
We can only presume that there was a degree of malevolence intended by calling the sculptures Kelpies. The poor creatures were treated badly in life while hauling canal boats, tramping the fields while their smaller cousins toiled, blind down the mines. It was cruel, particularly down the pits, so it’s unsurprising that they may feel a need to get some revenge.
Of course, any bitterness or lasting controversy could have been avoided if they’d called the two sculptures George and Mildred. Nobody would have associated the two magnificent creatures with anything sinister.
But it wouldn’t instil quite the same sense of magnificence or mystery.
When I look into the hard eyes of one and imagine the wail of the other looking to the sky in agony, Kelpies is the perfect name.