I first visited the National Gallery of Modern Art almost 20 years ago and decided a follow-up was long overdue. I bussed it over to the West End of Edinburgh on a Sunday morning for the 10am opening time and picked up the Water of Leith trail at Dean Village - an oasis of calm below the bustling streets above. The river walkway passes by the two gallery buildings and I had formulated a 7-mile circular route to give me a healthy dose of exercise along with my culture fix. The cobbled streets of Dean Village led me past the beautiful red sandstone housing block Well Court - commissioned in Victorian times to accommodate local workers. I proceeded on to the riverside footpath and almost immediately had to make a detour up a staircase to street level due to a landslip on the banks. Signs clearly warned pedestrians not to climb over the barrier but the chap behind me did just that. I could hear the workmen shouting at him to go back as I slogged up the steps and followed a path through the streets towards the parkland containing the art galleries.
Modern One is free to enter and houses permanent exhibitions and temporary displays. The grand building opened in 1825 as the John Watson School for fatherless children. The sweeping lawns include a sculpture park with water features. The National Gallery took over the premises in 1984 after vacating Inverleith House. Close by is Modern Two which was built in 1833 and functioned as an orphan hospital. It became part of the National Gallery in 1999 and showcases the collection of Dada and Surrealist art and a body of work by the sculptor Eduardo Paolozzi. His Master of the Universe installation stands at the entrance gate and depicts the scientist Isaac Newton in a contemplative pose. I plumped for Modern One as there was no admission charge and I only had time to visit one gallery properly. A special exhibition examining the works of film special-effects superstar Ray Harryhausen was running in Modern Two but I would have had to shell out £14 for that. I entered the oblong building and tried to find my bearings. I like to slowly stroll around the artwork and look out for pieces (or perhaps a group of paintings) that catch my eye. I landed lucky in the first gallery I perused. The small space showed works by the four most important figures in Scottish landscape art from the past half century. I particular liked a 1994 painting by Fife artist Frances Walker entitled Summer day in the Dunes. She is best known for her engagement in wild desolate landscapes and her celebration of Scotland's coastline. The Dunes painting represents a beach on the Isle of Tiree - the most westerly island of the Inner Hebrides.
Regarding indoor sculpture exhibits, I'm never sure whether to laugh or cry (perhaps that is the point?). Sometimes they seem so ridiculously random you ask yourself if someone really got paid for designing this pile of junk. I suppose the answer is the meaning of art is however the viewer chooses to interpret it. What chimes with one person will induce mirth in another. There was literally a pile of bricks in the corner - make of that what you will. Near enough a perfect cube though! Another memorable object was an old-style cradle telephone with the handset resembling a lobster. I made my way through the various rooms and learned that Cubism is all about seeing the image from different angles simultaneously. There is no fixed perspective from which to view the 3D scene represented by a 2D painting. So there was a method in the madness after all! Surrealism, however, was never actually a style but rather a way of thinking that found expression upon canvas. The Surrealists sought to go beyond the world of visible reality und instead investigate dreams, the unconscious, the irrational, absurd and fantastic. I thankfully managed to find a painting featuring a cat and another one with a railway. The latter had to be slightly doctored before appearing on Facebook as part of my selected highlights of the gallery visit. A nude lady sat in a window as a tram passed by and I discretely cropped this out, for fear of triggering the Facebook algorithm that is sensitive to scuddy bits. It might have resulted in a 14-day ban! My favourite exhibition space was devoted to a series of rural Scottish paintings by Joan Eardley. The fishing village of Catterline in Kincardineshire became her permanent home in 1961. She had previously ventured here to spend time painting and based herself in a rented cottage with a bare earth floor and no electricity or running water. The dwelling regularly featured in her work but was threatened with demolition in 1959. This was eventually reprieved and Eardley - intrigued by the cottage's rustic appeal - arranged to use it as a paint store. The image pictured below shows the old row of housing bracing itself for the harsh winter.
My attention was also drawn to Industrial Belt - a 2006 oil painting by Carol Rhodes. She specialised in environments that are commonly disregarded in the artistic sense, like service stations, car-parks and airports. She considers the transformation of the landscape by human interference. There is an obvious link here to industrial activities, a favourite topic of mine. Some light relief was provided by a minimalist work by the wonderfully named Billy Apple. A white canvas emblazoned in red with the words FOR SALE wasn't an advertisement for a spare spot in the gallery, it was the actual exhibit! Apparently, it makes a harsh statement about art as a tradeable commodity. I continued my tour and the mathematician in me appreciated the geometric patterns on display in some of the artwork. After a full two hours inside, it was time to head and I enjoyed my packed lunch in the surrounding parkland. I then made my way back down to the Water of Leith and picked up the trail at the AIDS tribute. Since 2004, the memorial has been a place of reflection by all those affected by HIV. A commemorative bench is adorned with red ribbon motifs, the international symbol for awareness of the disease. A statue stands in a still patch of water formed by a weir and a plaque has been installed on the river bank. Edinburgh infamously became known as the "AIDS capital of Europe" in the 1980s, although this had little to do with the gay community, where the virus first gained a foothold elsewhere in the world. Certain peripheral housing estates in the capital city had major issues with intravenous drug use and the use of shared needles led to a surge in cases. Fingers have been pointed retrospectively at the Health Board's refusal to distribute clean injecting equipment to the city's users. It's a controversial issue. I'm not in favour of legalising heroin but making total outcasts of those in the throes of addiction is hardly the answer either. Once folk have a habit, it doesn't magically go away.
The Water of Leith walkway is 13 miles long and begins in the suburban village of Balerno. I did the entire route from there to Leith Shore with a rambling group around 10 years ago and have dipped into individual sections over the years. My sister and I plan to complete the trail at some point in the future so I'll write in more detail about the experience in due course. Today I was heading another three miles upstream towards the visitors centre on Lanark Road. I soon passed under the tall Coltbridge Viaduct, it's three arches spanning the river valley. A cycle path now runs on top. One of several old suburban lines converted to public use. The Water of Leith walkway follows the river pretty faithfully but diverges a little as you approach Murrayfield Stadium. A short stretch of street navigation is required but the signage keeps you right. The river bank is regained as you enter the former swamp of Roseburn Park, which houses the enormous rugby stadium. The city council drained and levelled the ground in the 1890s and the land was turned over to sporting activities. In the following century, Murrayfield was constructed upon an old polo ground and the opening fixture - Scotland versus England - took place in 1925 in front of 70,000 spectators. The vast green space of Roseburn is used for cricket and football matches. Murrayfield Ice Rink is located in the far corner. There are also several rugby pitches dotted around the main stadium. The present capacity of Murrayfield is 67,000 seats. I've never actually seen a rugby game there, or anywhere else for that matter. But I have been inside the stadium a handful of times when the Scottish Claymores American football team played there in the 90s. I also saw an Eagles concert in 1995. After leaving the parkland behind, I wasn't expecting to encounter anything of significance until reaching the visitors centre but I found myself walking right by what looked to be an old walled garden. I had stumbled upon Saughton Park, now a public amenity but formerly part of a private estate with a large mansion and extensive grounds. I decided to have a stroll around and I availed myself of the toilet facilities. There is also a café on site. A tall sundial stands proudly in the garden area.
I passed through the glass house which contains a bust of Mahatma Gandhi among the tropical plants. Saughtonhall was the name of the tower house built near the river around 1660. Various additions over the centuries created a rambling stately home that later became an asylum, art gallery and recuperation centre for the Women's Land Army during WW2. People often mix up Saughtonhall with Saughton House. The latter was a country home on the outskirts of the city and was completely destroyed by fire in 1918. Saughtonhall became a private lunatic asylum in 1824 for "patients of higher ranks" - no class discrimination there then! However, it was noted for its humane and innovative treatments. The management introduced an early form of horticultural therapy by encouraging patients to work in, and enjoy the extensive gardens. Rooms were left unlocked and restraint used only in extreme cases. Most patients were regarded as curable. The asylum was seen as a model institution and medical professionals visited from as far afield as the United States. Around the dawn of the new century, the facility transferred its operations to Mavisbank House near Loanhead and the last patients left Saughtonhall in 1906. Curiously, I had explored the remains of Mavisbank just a few weeks previously. Edinburgh Corporation purchased Saughtonhall and began the process of turning the old estate into a public park. It's first major role was hosting the Scottish National Exhibition of 1908 - opened by Prince Arthur of Connaught, son of Queen Victoria. The Edwardian extravaganza was a great success and attracted a total of 3.5 million visitors during its six-month run. Attractions included a Senegalese village, Canadian pavilion, industrial hall, concert & conference hall, gondola rides on the Water of Leith, Irish cottages, a helter skelter and figure-of-eight railway. Visitors could arrive by train at the main entrance. As was usually the case with these massive-scale events back then, the whole caboodle was dismantled or demolished after the show had ended. Little trace of the exhibition remains today. The decaying mansion was torn down in 1952 due to the presence of dry rot. The estate has been upgraded in recent years and now receives all its electricity from a micro-hydro scheme on the Water of Leith. Two ground source heat pumps are also powered by this development and they supply energy to the park buildings. The historic Saughton weir was installed in the late 18th century to service industry along the banks and this has now been adapted for green electricity generation.
I returned to the river to continue my walk and soon arrived at the visitors centre in the shadow of Slateford Aqueduct. Opened in 1822, the eight-arch structure spans 500 feet and carries the Union Canal 75 feet above the Water of Leith. A railway viaduct runs alongside and this line is still operational. The walkway passes under both to emerge at the entrance to the café and exhibition space. After ordering myself a drink and snack, I perused the information panels and also picked up a detailed map of the entire route for a bargain one pound. Rather than retracing my route downstream, I opted to follow Lanark Road, which becomes Slateford Road towards the city centre for a varied urban walking experience. I encountered the Caledonian Brewery, now owned by corporate giant Heineken. Founded in 1869, it is the last remaining industrial-scale brewery in the capital and it produces the evergreen Deuchars IPA along with Caley 80/- (now rebranded as Edinburgh Castle) and Flying Scotsman. Although I don't recall the halcyon days of Edinburgh brewing, I remember rolling into Haymarket Station and sometimes smelling malt in the air. The Scottish parliament site was formerly occupied by the headquarters of the Scottish & Newcastle brewery. I actually went for an interview there at the age of 17. Didn't get the job. Their giant Fountainbridge plant (which I would soon pass) ran until 2004. It's good to have one Victorian operation still in existence and Deuchars remains an incredibly popular pint on the cask ale scene. Edinburgh itself accounts for a huge chunk of all the traditional beer consumed in Scotland. The adjacent Caley Sample Room has been given a makeover and food is heavily promoted, unlike the wet-led drinking saloon of old. I'm not sure if there is still a business connection to the brewery next door.
I pressed on, walking above the Western Approach Road which was formerly the main line into the Caledonian Railway Station (known as Princes Street). The cavernous building on Lothian Road was razed to the ground in 1965. Both my parents remember the station vividly. Dr Beeching's view was you didn't necessarily need several termini in a city centre and Glasgow, Dundee, Manchester and many other major centres of population saw famous rail destinations wiped off the map forever. In many cases, the condemned stations were architectural masterpieces but that counted for little when up against 1960s so-called progress. I headed along Dundee Street towards the old Fountainbridge Brewery site, passing the leisure complex I used to frequent with my Cineworld card. This allowed me to watch unlimited films for just over a tenner a month. Great days! Many modern apartments and trendy bars have sprung up along this stretch, tying in with new office blocks and the whole canal regeneration project. Huge changes in 20 years but I suppose twas ever thus. No city stands still. I do understand why some long-term locals feel frozen out (possibly priced out too) when the social mix of the community substantially shifts and old meeting points such as the Fountain Bar are suddenly gentrified. You can counter that by saying the new establishments welcome everyone but it doesn't always follow that everyone feels comfortable in the changed environment. I reached the junction with Lothian Road and wandered back down to Princes Street for the bus to Fife. A fine day all round.
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