I'm an artist living in a small, Scottish village. So one would expect to be treated with some sort of caution. And the village and the farmers have shown enormous tolerance of me and interest in what I do. I mean, they don't necessarily understand what I'm doing all the time. But they, you know, I think they respect what I do and that there is a connection between what they do with the land and what I do, you know, that we're both dependent on weather and respond to that.
I'm very fortunate to be able to do what I do and live the way I do.
Generally in New York, people just walk over you with no problem about that. Other countries, people want to resuscitate you, like, after a bit.
The main source of my income is through the commissions of the large-scale works and big sculptures, the projects.
People are the nature of the city, and you can feel it in the pavement.
We leave our presence in the pavement. We're walking over it, sitting on steps.
I'm not a performer, in that I don't like the public, but I work in that respect.
Nature, for me is raw and dangerous and difficult and beautiful and unnerving.
I've laid down in dried up streambeds, leaving a shadow. And then, five minutes later, it's flash flooded, and where I once laid is now running water, which would've washed me away, you know? There's that power and danger often in places that look so calm and pastoral to begin with.
I have to understand the nature of change. And I cannot just work with stone or the more permanent materials. I need to work with leaves and ice and snow and mud and clay and water and the rising tide and the wind and all these.
When I do the permanent projects or the big projects, when a work is finished, that's the beginning of its life.
There's a huge number of things that are occurring with the ice works which fascinate me enormously, but it's driven by this kind of frantic race against time. And whilst that creates a huge amount of tension and problems, it's a tension that I think I feed off.
I think I have been fashioned by the fickle weather of Britain that it is - it's forever changing. There's no kind of constant sun or dry weather or freezing weather, and I'm always having to change and adapt to that.
When it does get below freezing and there is - it's cold enough for ice to form, then that changes the whole landscape, and it makes the landscape a different landscape to the one that I worked with previously. And I want to understand that. But the big tension of the ice works is that they're often made when it's cold enough to freeze one piece of ice to another.
The British climate, although it is very wet, it is quite mild in winter. We don't get these severe - generally don't get severe winters.
It's just that when I work on someone else's land, it makes me aware of the social nature of that landscape.
I love the winter. Well, I love all the seasons, but the winter is possibly one of the most intense.
I have six acres in front of my own house, which I very rarely work on. Most of the work occurs on farmers' fields around me. And I like the discipline of working on other people's land.
I go way beyond just the wood and stone but to the process of growth and farming and the tensions between the two.
I think that I'm always trying to get beyond the surface appearance of things, to go beyond what I can just see.
I knew the tree when it grew, and the tree is now gone. The farmers cut it up, and it's become firewood. And there's this tremendous sense of absence and shock and violence attendant to that collapsing tree.
If you've ever come across a tree that you've lived with for many years and then one day it's blown over, there's incredible shock and violence about that.
The process of growth is obviously critical to my understanding of the land and myself. So the process is far more unpredictable with far more compromises with the day, the weather, the material.
The things that I make are that which a person will make. They're not meant to mimic nature. They are nothing but the result of a hand of a person.
Design implies a sense of mapping something out and then you follow the plan.
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