The Old Church of Dunhallin in Waternish, Isle of Skye is big, solid,
pinkish, four-square and intimidating, with a formidable door on which
is pinned a notice instructing visitors to ring the bell. I did, twice,
to no avail and was about to creep away - suitably intimidated - when
the door opened and a small figure appeared, wiping her hands on a
rag as she gave me a cheerful grin: "Sorry, it doesn't shut properly
so I have to lock it and I was covered in ink…"
I arrived on Marion MacPhee's doorstep at 4.30pm on a Friday afternoon,
very conscious that her studio was due to close in half an hour. When
I eventually left at 6.30pm, this bright, friendly, young woman was
still eagerly sharing her delight in what she was doing and what the
future might hold.
Marion was born and brought up in Skye. Her family is still in Glendale,
her father was born there and her mother is originally from Fife.
From Portree High School, Marion went to Edinburgh College of Art,
where she trained in illustration, graduating in 2001 with an honours
degree in art and design.
She bubbles with enthusiasm, sharing ideas and dreams, relating experiences
and discoveries, finding links with her questioner, giving and gaining
from every moment of the encounter. You feel she lives like this -
it's infectious and you come away with renewed enthusiasm for your
own task in hand.
Marion radiates a sense of belonging and is clearly rooted in Skye.
Her desire to live and work in her home island led her to set up her
own studio in a location far removed from the mainstream of printmaking.
It was a big decision for someone just starting out. The highlands
and islands have a long history of young people leaving home "in search
of the bright lights" as critics have so often complained. But chronic
shortage of work has forced the hand of many a talented youngster
who would rather have remained part of the island community. To go
against this tide takes courage and determination - Marion MacPhee
is lacking in neither.
She started working for herself in 2002, and is emphatic about the
importance of the support she received at that point from the Prince's
Scottish Youth Business Trust and Skye and Lochalsh Enterprise (the
local office of Highlands and Islands Enterprise). Their respective
loan and start-up grant helped her buy a printing press and materials
to get her venture underway. In 2003 she received a further "top-up"
loan from the PSYBT, which aided the purchase of a bigger press, so
she could produce work on a larger scale.
Marion's is not the only local young talent to attract such support.
From artists to furniture makers to boat builders, the PSYBT and SALE
are helping to restock the pool of young people living and working
in their indigenous environment. Marion is full of praise for the
help and advice she has received from the PSYBT. She has appreciated
especially the Trust's open-minded response to her own business plan
which, she says, was so different from the majority of those submitted.
However, no amount of external assistance can guarantee success without
a fierce practical commitment on the part of the individual recipient.
Marion's work is already well known and admired in Skye and the surrounding
area, and a mere two hours in her company convinced me that she has
all the commitment she needs to see many of her dreams come true.
At the heart of Marion's work are the mythology and environment of
the Scottish West coast, particularly though not exclusively the Hebrides
and - more recently - Ireland. As a child Marion heard the old tales
from her parents. As a printmaker, she is concerned to help keep that
tradition of storytelling alive through her work.
The first tale to inspire her was the Blue Men of the Minch, a story
of strange, mythical beings who haunt the stormy seas, particularly
between Harris and the Shiant Islands. Blue-skinned and long-bearded,
they accost unwary fishermen and challenge them to trials of wit in
complex Gaelic verse. Failure to match the verbal skills of the Blue
Men results in drowning.
As part of her final degree show, Marion made a book relating and
illustrating the story of the Blue Men. It was a small step in the
direction of a long-term ambition to illustrate a "real" book. However,
she emphasises that the stories provide her with a starting point
and a catalyst. Each piece also stands alone as a work of art and
does not depend solely on the story behind it.
In 2004 she turned her attention to the Sea Folk, the seals which
- amongst many other mystical connections with human beings - are
said to emerge from the sea and take on human form on certain days
of the year. The varied and ancient folklore of the seals along the
west coasts of Scotland and Ireland became a focus for Marion during
a period spent in Donegal.
The Skye bonds may be strong, but Marion is a keen traveller and
loves the stimulation of meeting up with other artists. From February
to May 2004, she took part in an innovative artists' exchange programme
between arts group Cló Ceardlann na gCnoc in County Donegal, Ireland
and Taigh Chearsabhagh museum and arts centre in North Uist. She was
one of two young artists - one from the Scottish Gaeltachd and one
from the Irish Gaeltacht - chosen to exchange localities and spend
a three-month residency working on specific projects in an isolated
setting.
The "Malartú" programme is one of many supported by Iomairt Cholm
Cille, named after St Columba (Colm Cille) and launched in 1997 "to
foster support for the Gaelic language and develop links between Gaelic
Scotland and Ireland". Such support allows Gaelic speakers in the
two countries to meet and learn more of each other's language and
culture, with the overall intention of strengthening the Irish and
Scottish Gaelic-speaking communities. Diarmaid Breathnach, Chief Executive
of Iomairt Cholm Cille, describes Malartú as "a unique opportunity…which
will hopefully inspire new works of art reflecting the Gaelic Celtic
culture while at the same time encouraging movement and artistic cooperation
between the artistic worlds of Ireland and Scotland".
The venture is significant in its emphasis on language: this is
first and foremost a Gaelic exchange programme. Marion chuckles as
she recalls her own less-than-fluent Gaelic when first invited to
take up the residency, gleefully questioning her own credibility in
that department. She remedied the matter by attending Gaelic classes
whilst in Donegal.
From the artist-in-residence cottage at the foot of Mount Errigal,
Marion revelled in exploring the landscape and folklore of the area.
The culmination of the programme was an exhibition in Donegal, in
September 2004, of work produced by the two artists during their residencies.
When I visited Marion in Hallin, she was excited about the recent
award of a small bursary through the Artists' Awards scheme run by
Highlands and Islands Arts Ltd (established in 1990 to promote and
develop the arts in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland). This extra
funding would allow her to include in the exhibition some large-scale
etchings, one of which - Three Seals - had been the cause of
her delayed response to my bell-ringing.
I was struck by Marion's repeated references to the production of
bigger and bigger prints. She enjoys the freedom in drawing that the
larger scale allows. I could well imagine her expansive character
struggling to accommodate the restrictions of the small "canvas" that
seems to suit many printmakers and engravers. This diminutive person
looks at the world through a wide window, with her art ever-growing
at its centre.
Her rented half of the former church building is both home and printmaker's
studio. The plain white walls are ideal for the display of framed
prints - full of life and movement, from seascapes to wild, stormy
images of myth and legend. The large work space contains a Harry Rochat
printing press that came from Uist. Workbenches are strewn with the
tools of the trade, trial prints and ink-smeared rags. In one corner,
a sofa and low table provide a place to sit and talk, over mugs of
tea made in the slate-floored kitchen to the rear. There's no doubting
the priorities here: this is first and foremost a working studio.
Domesticity seems content with its second-rung position and the place
has a happy atmosphere.
As our conversation turned to the process of making her prints, Marion
explained the different techniques she uses, depending on the subject
matter and the effect she wants to achieve. My note-taking faltered
as I concentrated on grasping new concepts, like "drypoint" and "collograph".
I noticed sheets of paper covered in annotated smears of coloured
inks. Marion said they were reference charts for her "monoprints".
No sooner mentioned, than she was out of her seat and demonstrating
how to make such a thing. The theory came to life for me, as oil-based
inks were mixed according to the colour "recipes" on the charts, then
spread on a piece of mirror glass (the requirement is a non-absorbent
surface), the layers and textures being built up with different tools.
Once ready, the plate is covered with a sheet of dampened paper and
put through the press. This being a once-only operation, each monoprint
is unique.
But the work in hand was her seal prints, and for these she uses
drypoint etching. "I could show you…", reaching for a large sheet
of copper whose surface clearly held an image, the detail difficult
to make out on the highly polished metal. Marion described how she
uses a sharp needle or diamond point to scratch her composition on
to the plate, creating a "burr" which holds the ink and gives a very
rich, velvety line. As she rolled ink on to the plate, rubbing it
into the myriad scratched crevices and lines of her illustration,
the head of a seal gradually appeared and I wondered at the concentration
and skill that must have gone into the etching stage.
Even for a bystander it was an exciting moment when Marion turned
the handle of the big press, then carefully lifted the finished print
from the plate. For the artist it must be a thrill each time to see
the final result of all that creative effort. Apparently the printing
plates are short-lived as the burr is flattened during printing, so
editions are limited to around 20 prints.
Looking ahead, apart from illustrating that elusive book, Marion
would like to see her work in galleries further afield. The list of
group shows is already impressive: Skye, Inverness, Edinburgh and
Italy, with another showing of the Malartú exhibition scheduled for
March 2005 at Taigh Chearsabhagh, a solo exhibition at An Tuireann
Arts Centre in Skye in June and interest in her work from a gallery
in distant Cambridge. It would seem that the storytelling traditions
of the west coast are in good company as Marion MacPhee carries them
on into her own promising future.