(3 weeks, 1 day ago)
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The issue means a lot to my constituency, because the plantation brought my brothers and sisters from Scotland to Northern Ireland, and they brought their architecture, culture, history, poetry and music with them.
In Newtownards, the main town in my constituency, the market cross is architecturally similar to those in Edinburgh and Glasgow. The local council spent some money on it. Has the local council spent money on the project that the hon. Gentleman is discussing? Does he agree with the hon. Member for North East Fife (Wendy Chamberlain) and I that these pieces of history in Glasgow and Edinburgh—and indeed everywhere—should be preserved for future generations, and that national UK-wide funding is needed to do that?
I heartily agree: the links across the Irish sea between Scotland and Northern Ireland are well known, and the influence of Scottish architecture, as I will go on to demonstrate, is worldwide.
Hon. Members have talked about other stories, but above Sauchiehall Street, wrapped in a white plastic shroud, is the burnt-out shell of the Mack. The site is sealed, like a sarcophagus, against the elements. The art school board, the engineers, the architects and the firefighters have all done their utmost and the walls are still standing, but there is no sign of a phoenix rising from these ashes.
The architectural value of Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s masterpiece is recognised all over the world. It was built in two phases, from 1897 to 1899 and again from 1907 to 1909. There has never been a building like it, whether in Scotland, the UK or the world. It is the inspired design of Charles Rennie Mackintosh. He was only 29 when he started work on it, which is quite humbling. Of course he did not do it on his own and he did not spring from nowhere. Not far from here, in west Kensington, the inspiration for a young Mackintosh can be found in the work of another Scottish architect, James M MacLaren. His towers and delicate spires find an echo in the masterpiece on Garnethill, which contains strands of Japanese design, modernism, art nouveau and sheer genius.
It was by combining three elements—imagination, engineering and art; as good a definition of good architecture as one can get—that the Mack was created. Unlike many of our other monumental buildings, it actually worked. For over a century, the Mackintosh building performed the purpose for which it was designed, combining exquisite craftmanship and design while producing an incredible production line of talent.
I never attended art school, but I was a citizen of Glasgow for many years and I did live next door to the Mack for a time. The second city was my second home, and I have many lifelong friends who are graduates of Glasgow School of Art. As the song goes,
“the art school dance goes on forever”.
The Mack runs through our personal lives as much as it does through the life of the nation.
In my constituency, I have many friends who are alumni of the Mack, such as my good friend Calum Angus Mackay, a photographer, painter and TV producer, who only recently produced a retrospective of 40 years of work since he left the Mack; Roddy Murray, the director of An Lanntair art gallery, ex-Dreamboy, local hero, actor and writer; his cousin, Ishbel Murray, and her brother Kenneth, who are both teachers and fine artists; Maggie Smith, a Harris tweed designer; Kenneth Burns, a landscape painter who has chronicled Glasgow and his native islands; Christine Davidson; and many others. Outwith the islands, there is Andy Scott, the internationally renowned figurative sculpture of the Kelpies, and my friend David Pratt, a photojournalist and war correspondent, who turned his unflinching lens on the flames of the art school as it was consumed a second time.
The impact and influence of the art school has been profound on all our lives—not just on those who were lucky enough to pass through its doors. Its structure is integral to Scotland’s identity and central to the image of brand Scotland we want to portray, and an asset to the UK on the world stage.
(1 month, 2 weeks ago)
Commons ChamberFurther to those points of order, Mr Speaker. On behalf of the Democratic Unionist party, I would like to join right hon. and hon. Members in expressing our sincere condolences on the death of Alex Salmond. I would like to begin by assuring Alex’s family, his wife Moira and all those who loved him that our thoughts and prayers are with them all at this time, after the sudden shock of losing Alex. We are all the poorer for his passing.
Over the years, I did a number of interviews with him in the job that he had for a certain station. Interviews with him were always enjoyable. He always had a chat beforehand about the questions he was going to ask, so that I was able to prepare the answers. He always did it with humour and it was always a delight.
I sat behind him on these Benches during the time that he and I were in this place at the same time. I had seen him only on TV and was not quite sure what sort of a person he was, so it was a pleasure to get to know him—he was most disarming. He was a colossus of nationalism, but he always asked me about the colossus of Unionism, Dr Ian Paisley—they were diametrically opposed in their politics, but in many ways they were similar. Alex’s questions were always about those he had served with and those he had the pleasure to be with. That made him much more human, perhaps, and brought the person to life more than the TV did.
As has been said, Alex was a man of great passion and a wonderful speaker. We were diametrically opposed in terms of our Unionist and nationalist views, but Alex’s passion was the stuff of Scottish folklore, and reminiscent of the rich culture of Scots in the past who gave their all for their ideal. This was a quality that I could admire, although I could never agree—but that was OK, because Alex was enough of a politician to give respect to my firmly held views on Unionism.
Alex was a man of sincere beliefs and a consummate politician, and he was also a man of great pride: he was proud of his culture, proud of his roots, and proud of what he believed Scotland had the potential to be. Today in the House, with his passing, we recognise and respect the memory of a proud, passionate politician who opposed, who led, and who inspired us all in turn.
Further to those points of order, Mr Speaker. May I pass on my condolences to Alex Salmond’s family, friends and former colleagues, and may I also do so on behalf of many of my constituents who would have known him and supported his cause?
As a journalist, I landed very few blows—very few journalists landed any blows—on Alex Salmond. As the right hon. Member for Orkney and Shetland (Mr Carmichael) mentioned, there was one quarrel about fishing in 1992, which was forgiven eventually in, I think, 2006, by which time Alex Salmond had transformed himself and his movement; he had stopped being thrown out of his party and thrown out of this place, and had replaced that complaint with a message of optimism, hope and self-confidence, often based on his own hope, self-confidence and optimism, and nothing more. But that great communication skill, and that ability to forgive, if not forget, and to have political opponents but not political enemies, was one of his great legacies to his party, to all of us in this Chamber and to Scotland.