“Human beings must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it.” -Einstein
Art is sometimes a subtle gesture. Gormley’s Angel of the North, 20 meters tall and composed of 200 tonnes of steel, is not. The construction of the statue was not without controversy – detractors have labelled Gormley’s Angel, modelled on his own body, the “Gateshead Flasher” for its rather exposed position between two thoroughfares into Tyneside. The UK Tory party even claimed the statue looked like a “Nazi insignia”. Despite criticism, the Angel has, since it’s construction in 1998, become an icon of Northeastern England. However, the sculpture is a perfect example of something meant to be seen rather than touched. From it’s prominent mound stance to downward glance to it’s weather resistant slippery steel body, the Angel hardly invites participation from visitors or the local community. The sculpture is, in no uncertain terms, meant to be one thing – imposing.
Lucy Sparrow, the brilliant felt worker who has won over London with her soft interpretation of of weighty topics, rang myself, Witek and Helen Carlton with an proposition: with winter weather rolling in, the Angel was bound to be getting cold. Lucy decided we should address this potential crisis while also playfully probing the non-participatory nature of the sculpture. She went to work, with the help of a few friends from the Bath Spa University knitting group, creating a 50 foot scarf to drape over the Angel. More specifically: after climbing the Angel, the scarf was to be tied in a knot around it’s neck to ward off the chill, hopefully staying for the whole season. The cold angel project is a subtle gesture toward artistic palimpsest, a way of layering up Gormley’s rather stark vision with a more warm and welcoming strata that carries a simple message – feel free to play here.
After a long planning session in Helen Calton’s studio in Hartlepool, we gathered ropes and devised our plan. Then, at 2am, we hit the road toward Gateshead with a car full of ropes, knit work, a bow and arrow, camera gear, flasks of hot chocolate and some warm clothes.
Getting up the wing of the Angel was trickier then we anticipated. It turns out that shooting an arrow from a bow with fishing line tied to it in 30mph gusts and near freezing temperatures and light rain is is not as easy as it looks in films. After a few attempts, Helen cleared the wing and Witek went running to snatch the dangling arrow from the air and stake it into the ground. Then, using the fishing line as a lead, snapping a few, redoing it, and finally layering three lines together to take the weight, we yanked the rope over and began rigging.
Witek quickly wrapped the ropes around the feet and tied off a few quick knots. At this point, we began to hear traffic noise increasing and realised the sun was coming up – we had taken far longer than expected to get the ropes up and time was running out. The Angel, seen by one person every second, 90,000 a day, is not a location you want to be silhouetted on top of in the morning light on an illegal rigging. We had to move fast – Helen quickly pulled on her harness, hooked in her chest ascender and footloop and started climbing.
From the top of the wing Helen called us on her mobile to say that she felt very exposed and did not feel entirely safe climbing around the head to drop the second half of the scarf, having nowhere to clip into safely.
We decided, rather than having her take an unnecessary risk, to drape the scarf over one shoulder and wrap it around the body of the Angel to the base like a Tibetan monk’s robe. With the knitwork in place, Helen jumped off the wing and descended down the rope to safety in front of a dismayed early morning dog walker. Looking up, the size of the Angel became even more impressive – it made Lucy’s massive scarf that had filled half the car looked like a piece of string.
In full view of the sun at 8am, we took a few final photos and headed out to the parking lot where, bizarrely, there was a coke-a-cola truck covered in fairy lights taking promotional photos in front of the newly draped angel. We were chuffed.
The conditions on our cold angel project were not ideal and plans did not pan out as they were sketched out on paper. But hey, when you try something that’s never been tried before, you’re bound to have to negotiate the situation a bit and we like that – that’s what participation with art is all about. Though we were disappointed we were not able to tie the scarf in a knot as originally intended, we hope that our draping scarf causes a few people to crack a smile on their way to work today. And, of course, we hope that the cold Angel is a little bit warmer on this chilly November day. Now we just need to figure out what to do with this massive Santa hat Lucy has knitted…
While you’re at it, have a look at Lucy and Helen’s websites. Climb everything.