Skip to main content

Craig Coulthard – Forest Pitch


When Craig Coulthard was growing up in Germany, he liked a kickabout as 
much as most other small boys. It gave the Edinburgh-based artist a 
sense of belonging, he reckons, helped him bond and integrate with the 
German kids. Rather than scrambling about in jumpers-for-goalposts 
childhood, however, Coulthard’s games took place in a forest, 
undercover of an all-encompassing blanket of trees that gave the games 
a more dramatic and mysterious edge.

Coulthard revisited his old playground a couple of years ago while on a 
residency in Dusseldorf, only to find a razed and abandoned site. It 
was a similar story in Cathkin Park, the former home to the now defunct 
Third Lanark FC in Glasgow, where Coulthard played as a teenager, and 
where the overgrown trees lent the environment a moody air. Flying over 
the Borders en route home from Dusseldorf, Coulthard was similarly 
struck by the dense impenetrability of the tree-lined landscape below 
and what might just be at play beneath.

All of which goes some way to explaining the thinking behind Forest 
Pitch, Coulthard’s large-scale spectacle that forms Scotland’s 
contribution to 2012’s Cultural Olympiad, which offers artistic 
responses to the Olympic Games themselves. Starting with two football 
matches taking place over one day on private land on the Buccleuch 
Estate just outside Selkirk in the Scottish Borders, Forest Pitch will 
field four teams – two male, two female - made up of players of non-UK 
origin, but who have been granted Leave To Remain here this century.

Football has always been a big thing to me,” says Coulthard, who is 
overseeing all aspects of Forest Pitch, from team training sessions to 
team shirts designed by school-children, “and has been as influential 
as music and visual art, so I think it’s natural that my work’s going 
to be about things I’m interested in.”

Forest Pitch isn’t the first time Coulthard has looked to football for 
inspiration. Indeed, popular culture of all forms has been explicit in 
Coulthard’s work since his time on the MFA course at Edinburgh College 
of Art prior to co-founding the still active independent artspace The 
Embassy in Edinburgh. Football strips, flags and t-shirts are 
paramount, while Coulthard’s band vehicle, Randan Discotheque, released 
a single, Heather the Weather, in homage to iconic Scots TV 
weather-girl Heather Reid. As tartan-tinged an anthem as it gets, 
Heather the Weather’s chucking-out-time sing-along infectiousness is a 
crossover smash-hit in waiting.

While Forest Pitch possesses a similar common touch, the contradictions 
of such a wilfully inclusive work taking place in a country where the 
so-called ‘beautiful game’ has been tainted by sectarianism is plain to 
see. As is too the sport’s capitalist excesses that have recently 
resulted in Rangers’ financial collapse. As with some of Jeremy 
Deller’s civic-minded work, Forest Pitch is something of a reclaiming 
of the original people’s game’s roots.

In Scotland football is dominated by the Old Firm,” Coulthard 
observes, “but beyond that there are hundreds of thousands of people 
who go and watch their local teams play at amateur level. I wanted to 
highlight that football can be a unifying thing rather than a 
destructive one, and that football doesn’t have to be about power, 
money and tribalism.”

With this in mind, Forest Pitch’s long-term effect will not be apparent 
for a couple of decades, when trees planted to mark out the shape of a 
football pitch after the games will at last become visible when the 
existing plantation that envelopes them is cut down.

It will grow and change into this really odd site,” says Coulthard, 
and I hope it becomes something less tangible as well, and that people 
will try and understand their environment a bit more, and that the 
people who take part in the games will take something away from the 
experience that matters.”

Forest Pitch, Buccleuch Estate, near Selkirk, July 21st 2012. Ticket 
enquiries, tickets@forestpitch.org
www.forestpitch.org

Scottish Art News, Issue 18, July 2012

ends

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Losing Touch With My Mind - Psychedelia in Britain 1986-1990

DISC 1 1. THE STONE ROSES   -  Don’t Stop 2. SPACEMEN 3   -  Losing Touch With My Mind (Demo) 3. THE MODERN ART   -  Mind Train 4. 14 ICED BEARS   -  Mother Sleep 5. RED CHAIR FADEAWAY  -  Myra 6. BIFF BANG POW!   -  Five Minutes In The Life Of Greenwood Goulding 7. THE STAIRS  -  I Remember A Day 8. THE PRISONERS  -  In From The Cold 9. THE TELESCOPES   -  Everso 10. THE SEERS   -  Psych Out 11. MAGIC MUSHROOM BAND  -  You Can Be My L-S-D 12. THE HONEY SMUGGLERS  - Smokey Ice-Cream 13. THE MOONFLOWERS  -  We Dig Your Earth 14. THE SUGAR BATTLE   -  Colliding Minds 15. GOL GAPPAS   -  Albert Parker 16. PAUL ROLAND  -  In The Opium Den 17. THE THANES  -  Days Go Slowly By 18. THEE HYPNOTICS   -  Justice In Freedom (12" Version) ...

Edinburgh Rocks – The Capital's Music Scene in the 1950s and Early 1960s

Edinburgh has always been a vintage city. Yet, for youngsters growing up in the shadow of World War Two as well as a pervading air of tight-lipped Calvinism, they were dreich times indeed. The founding of the Edinburgh International Festival in 1947 and the subsequent Fringe it spawned may have livened up the city for a couple of weeks in August as long as you were fans of theatre, opera and classical music, but the pubs still shut early, and on Sundays weren't open at all. But Edinburgh too has always had a flipside beyond such official channels, and, in a twitch-hipped expression of the sort of cultural duality Robert Louis Stevenson recognised in his novel, Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, a vibrant dance-hall scene grew up across the city. Audiences flocked to emporiums such as the Cavendish in Tollcross, the Eldorado in Leith, The Plaza in Morningside and, most glamorous of all due to its revolving stage, the Palais in Fountainbridge. Here the likes of Joe Loss and Ted Heath broug...

Carla Lane – The Liver Birds, Mersey Beat and Counter Cultural Performance Poetry

Last week's sad passing of TV sit-com writer Carla Lane aged 87 marks another nail in the coffin of what many regard as a golden era of TV comedy. It was an era rooted in overly-bright living room sets where everyday plays for today were acted out in front of a live audience in a way that happens differently today. If Lane had been starting out now, chances are that the middlebrow melancholy of Butterflies, in which over four series between 1978 and 1983, Wendy Craig's suburban housewife Ria flirted with the idea of committing adultery with successful businessman Leonard, would have been filmed without a laughter track and billed as a dramady. Lane's finest half-hour highlighted a confused, quietly desperate and utterly British response to the new freedoms afforded women over the previous decade as they trickled down the class system in the most genteel of ways. This may have been drawn from Lane's own not-quite free-spirited quest for adventure as she moved through h...