Andy Goldsworthy, Fifty Years #2

Edinburgh #10

Given that I've been a fan of Andy Goldsworthy for some thirty-five years, it was a joy to revisit some of his early work made in the 1970s and 1980s. There were photographs he'd taken of many of his woodland creations. In those above, he'd torn leaves and arranged them very precisely, stuck down with spit. His works can last a few seconds to a few days, but nearly all of them - with the exception perhaps of his stone sheepfolds such as the one at Yorkshire Sculpture Park - are ephemeral: from the earth, back to the earth. 

Foxglove petals wrapped round twigs, rowan berries in a sinuous line, nuts, leaves, stones - these are his materials. 

I find these works intriguing, not least for the patience involved in creating them. The autumn leaves below each have a torn green leaf, stuck with water or spit, to form a very precise line. 

There was a whole room full of photos of work Andy has been making since 2009, still ongoing, documenting a fallen elm tree near his home. It died of Dutch elm disease, finally collapsing across a stream. He's been returning to explore and work with the changes, cracks, splinters ever since. The bright yellow he's used a lot is the leaves of other elms, torn and papered over the darker wood, held only with water or stitched together with grass. He's exploited the violence with which the tree fell, exposing fissures and broken boughs. I actually found it quite moving in a strange way... homage to a once mighty tree. 

In the early days he also made short films, many of which are rather amusing, since he often uses his body as part of the art.  There was one of him crawling slowly through a hedge;  another of him lying - as if dead - on a slab of rock. It was only after several minutes that you realised it was raining and he was making a 'rain shadow', only visible once he stood up to reveal the dry shape. Another that intrigued me was a slow moving piece where he was simply wringing his hands together, but gradually you realised that he was squashing a fistful of blackberries, as red juice started to ooze like blood. 

As I said yesterday, the artist's thoughts, experiments and creative processes are at least as interesting as his art. It's the same with David Hockney. Long may they both continue sharing their creations. 

See HERE for the gallery website about the exhibition, with more photos.