Glaswegian....or What Was That Again?

A local told us that in the first month here we would perhaps understand every third word, and by the third month we’d be able to decipher what people were saying. That may have been overly optimistic. We will probably continue our default communication for some time to come: smiling, nodding our heads, asking a repeat or simply replying “dunno.” Or answering the somewhat simple “sitin-in or way?” (here or to-go) when ordering simple food or drink. Among the words that have stumped us are cullen skink (a popular smoked haddock chowder), geggie (mouth), chebs out (for women, showing off your chest), peely wally (pale-skinned), and mingin’ (gross). The use of “wee” is not a Hollywood stereotype but is uttered every other sentence "wuld you like a wee bag for that?" and is also shortened to apply to children as in pub signs advising “weans welcome.”

The Glasgow School of Art and Last Year's Fire

Aside from learning as much as we can about Scotland, the real reason we are in Glasgow is because I am a Fulbright Scholar at the Mackintosh School of Architecture, attached to the Urban Lab, a research entity that works with both the School and City of Glasgow. When I was notified of my award last year I was so excited that I would be able to spend time in Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s best work - the Glasgow School of Art.  Built from 1897-1909 in his signature Arts & Crafts style, British architects voted it as the best building from the last 175 years. Mackintosh’s works and influences will require several later entries in this blog.

However, last May 23, a true tragedy struck. As students prepped for their annual Degree Show, a student’s project caught fire and the fire raced up several floors on one end of the school. The library and several studios were destroyed, but fortunately 90% of the building was left relatively unharmed. Presently the building is unoccupied. The fire-damaged wing is under protective wraps as the school decides how to rebuild/reconstruct the library. Five firms have been shortlisted to tackle the project, but the reconstruction will likely take three years or more and undoubtedly will generate a lot of public debate. The fire and its aftermath, while disappointing to me, has been devastating to the students and staff of the school - I believe more so than people let on. However, the making of art and architecture wholeheartedly and resiliently continues. It will be quite interesting to see how such a cataclysm will influence the work.

Robbie, Me and a Giant Haggis(?)

 It’s very gratifying to have a whole nation note one’s birthday. Of course, I’m sharing the day with the exalted ploughman-poet Robert Burns. To honor the bard we hopped a train to Ayr, a 50-minute ride, where townspeople gathered Saturday for the ceremonial passing of a giant haggis (in reality an outsized papier-mache sculpture that looked like a pale, misshaped meatball). Stuffed inside were well wishes from Burns fans around the world. In front of the eponymous Tam O’Shanter Inn, a half-dozen pipers greeted the haggis, which was then carried on a two-mile pilgrimage to Alloway, Burns’s birthplace.

A recent $30 million investment has spruced up Burns’s childhood home and added an extensive, lovely museum with state of the art exhibits tracing the short life of the farmer-writer-lover-patriot. We learned that besides writing Auld Lang Syne and some 200 other poems, songs, and stories, Burns found time to have nine children with his wife and four illegitimate offspring before dying of heart disease at 37. Apparently his talent was recognized early; a report from his tutor comments that the 6-year-old Robbie’s writing is “remarkable for the fluency and correctness of expression” though his singing voice was “dull” and out of tune. A short distance from the museum is an imposing monument donated by fellow Freemasons, the ruins of the old church with the gravesite of Burns’s father (an uneducated tenant farmer who nevertheless valued booklearning for his seven children), and the picturesque brig o’doon (or bridge over the River Doon). Sadly, we missed the village's haggis hurling competition (world's record of 217 feet!) for a truly Scottish outing.

 Fair and full is your honest, jolly face,
Great chieftain of the sausage race!
Above them all you take your place,
Stomach, tripe, or intestines:
Well are you worthy of a grace
As long as my arm.

So goes the Address to a Haggis, the star of Burns dinners around the country today.  We did our part, sharing in a 3+ hour Burns Brunch (instead of a dinner) with about 60 Scots in a well-finished basement dining room. Led by a piper-poet we all stood to honor the haggis on its arrival, marking the occasion with a dram of  whisky. Between courses Johnny the Caledonian Cowboy recited Burns' poems and added his own ribald stories in which body parts featured prominently. Neeps and tatties (parsnips and potatoes) accompanied the haggis, which was made more savory by whisky sauce and little pour of spirits besides. Rudy the Braveheart cleaned his plate while Rhonda, a coward, went with a vegetarian option that simulated haggis with lentils and oatmeal. Having come through this rite of passage we feel we've earned the privilege of staying here.

A Great Victorian Pile

Two of our neighbors are among Glasgow’s greatest cultural treasures. About a block away is the Kelvingrove Museum and Art Gallery, opened in 1901 and one of the first buildings here to boast electric lights. A massive organ dominates the main hall and there are free concerts daily. Everything imaginable is housed here, from a World War II Spitfire to dinosaur skeletons and taxidermy examples of other extinct species to an impressive Impressionist collection to Dali’s Christ of St. John of the Cross to medieval armor. Another attraction that brings to mind the Victorian cabinet of curiosities is University of Glasgow’s Hunterian Museum, which is chock full of the weird collections of Renaissance man William Hunter. His medical specimens are cheek by jowl with remnants of the Antonine Wall, which formed the northern border of Roman Britain, north of the Hadrian Wall. We particularly liked the ornate silver drinking cups used by university faculty and the throne-like chair with hourglass attached that was used to examine students and is still pressed into service for classics examinations.

Kelvingrove Museum

A Saturday Ramble

With snow blanketing the city, we spent the day picking our way through Kelvingrove Park, the Central Park-like greenspace that meanders along the Kelvin River that’s a mere two blocks from our flat. Spotted lots of kids sledding down the steep hills, trying to avoid the frozen-over duck pond; dog walkers galore; and hearty students wearing jogging tights or shorts. We warmed up in the moist greenhouses of the nearby botanic garden, feeling as if we had somehow landed back in Miami or some Brazilian jungle.

From Our Window

One thing you can say about landing on the top floor of a tenement flat in Glasgow’s West End: it affords you sweeping views of the city with the snow-covered Kilpatrick Hills in the distance and Gothic Revival behemoths like the main buildings of the University of Glasgow poking above the 4-6 story, sandstone Victorian terraced housing that dominates the city. Our search for digs was finally successful after visits to about a dozen different “estate agents” and viewings of some truly Dickensian properties, but our apartment won’t be vacant until February. Until then, we’re staying in an Airbnb flat in the same neighborhood and getting to know where the best croissants are, what time of day the roast chickens get marked down at our favorite grocery store, how to ignore water pipes that sound like melodic, tortured cats, and strategies for drying laundry (a combination of using a medieval-looking rack that pulls down over the bathtub and/or draping underwear on all the radiators, which is more efficient but not very decorative.) Since there’s no television (which, it turns out, in the UK requires a monthly license fee), Rudy has entertained himself by attacking a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle of Kate and Wills. We’ve also visited a couple of Glasgow’s wonderfully posh movie theatres and bought tickets for a number of the Celtic Connections performances: a two-week world music festival with 2,000 artists and 20 venues. There’s no lack of things to do in this vibrant (but sadly trash-laden) city.