Firestacks is an art installation originally created in the 1990s on the shore of the island of Jura in Scotland. It was built using the ancient craft skills of dry-stone dyking and fire-stoking by the immersive landscape artist Julie Brook, who since 1989 has been specialising in living and working in remote locations. This video marks the recreation of the work twenty-five years later at Aird Bheagh in the Outer Hebrides. It takes the form of an event at Kings Place, London, which includes videos of two ‘firings’– one in Spring 2019 and the other in Summer 2017 – interspersed by conversation with the well-known nature writer Robert Macfarlane.

The idea behind the installation, Julie explains, is the bringing together of all the elements, and each firing records the movement of the incoming tide as it slowly engulfs and finally extinguishes the firestack. I found it enchanting to watch as the four opposing forces of fire, air (wind), water (tide) and earth (stone) dance it out in a stunning performance. Like all great works of art, it made me feel I was there, immersed in the same passion as the artist. The focus is fire, singling it out, coaxing and nurturing it to show off its beauty in a natural, but hostile, setting.

The natural setting is everything. The soundtrack uses only the sounds of water – there are no voiceovers or music. No humans are seen, and only the briefest list of names is given at the end. Even the seaweed (several tons of it, Julie explains) was weeded out for each firing! It reminds me of the traditions of medieval cathedrals, where air was enclosed, stone tamed and new gravity-defying spaces created by the devoted work of an unnamed band of skilled and dedicated workers. The stuff of unseen elves in fairy tales. We only learn from Julie’s comments just how much hard work it was for her and her team to create this seemingly simple event.

Robert Macfarlane is a wonderful writer, who comes with the same very tough pedigree of totally immersing himself in what he writes about remote places (see our review of his book Underland here). He is certainly not a ‘soft-fingered desk-bound writer’ as he describes himself, and Julie’s svelte glamour and charm do not look at all like a stereotypical bearded wilderness explorer. Their conversation and the readings from Julie’s original journal really add depth to our understanding of the piece. In reply to Macfarlane’s question about its meaning, for example, Brook talks about the tension between the elements:

There is a beautiful choreography between them – almost like a choreography of time… of time being physically manifest. It is very difficult for us to have a notion of tide, but when you have a focal point, which is what the firestack is, it acts as a kind of catalyst for the incredible forces that are going on. The fact that the tide is coming in twice a day, and that it is connected to gravity and the pull of the moon; these are really basic laws of physics. Like breathing, they are fundamental to our existence, yet we rarely think about them. But they are really precious – and amazing. I read recently that the poet Rumi said: sell cleverness and buy wonder. And I thought: yes! (38:51)

The ending is also very moving. Thanks to Julie, however, this firestack lives on and spreads outwards to the world by the skilled use of film.

She has asked me to mention that her eldest daughter, Winnie, has played an integral role in filming this work. My thanks for Beth Kempton for introducing me to Firestacks on her Winter Writing course [/].

Video: Firestacks: Time, Tide and Gravity at Kings Place, London, 29 January 2020. Total duration 1:25 hours, including films of two ‘firings’: ‘Spring 2019’ (08:10–21:55) and  ‘Summer 2017’ (50:00–1:00:00)

The BBC documentary ‘Forest, Field and Sky’ (2020), for which Julie recreated the Aird Bheagh firestack, can now be seen on Vimeo (click here [/]). This shows more about the way she built the installation, and also features other landscape works such as David Nash’s circle of ash trees hidden in a wood, Andy Goldsworthy’s ephemeral sculpture and James Turrell’s sky spaces.