New work at Glenfiddich
Some work accessible till mid-October; Glenfiddich Distillery, Duff Town

Now in its third year, Glenfiddich’s adventurous artists in residence programme can be counted on to entertain, surprise and bemuse, and this year is no different. Visitors to the white cube gallery space (now, sadly, closed for the winter) enjoyed an engaging mix of work including Ross Sinclair’s black and white flags of Southern States, Louise Hopkins’ latest blanked-out comic pages and Christine Borland’s photographs of watermelons in the snow.

Austrian artist Wilhelm Scherübl had rescued some very depressed office plants from elsewhere in the distillery and pepped them up at the gallery window, while an inadequate-looking neon light lay miserably nearby. In the centre of the gallery, Budapest team, Little Warsaw, had placed one golden stalk of wheat in a vitrine, like a relic in a shrine.

Away from the gallery, Aberdeen artist David Blyth took visitors by surprise with his suggestive installation, Chariots of Silk, swinging gently in the breeze. A cross between elegant bedroom furniture and functional stable parts, the wooden structure seemed to serve no purpose. On it hung horse-tack, re-upholstered with luxurious materials, embroidery, suede, silk and ribbon. It was gently ambiguous, and perfectly situated in a peat shed with no peat.

Blyth has also taken over the front room of a derelict cottage on the distillery site. Hearing something strange you’re attracted into the front garden, and staring through the window you can watch his Blair-Witch style video projected on the mouldy back wall. Strewn around the dark room is the paraphernalia of alchemy, witch-craft and illicit stills. I’m told this will still be around for another two weeks.

If that doesn’t scare you off, you can also get the key for the cottage next door. Inside, upstairs and down, Tokyo-based Frenchman Matthieu Manche has pinned 25 eye-popping Manga-style screenprints. As you trespass through this creaky old house, the insanely grinning cartoon characters, floating out of familiar distillery buildings and Dufftown streets, are guaranteed to give you the creeps.

Catrìona Black, Sunday Herald 03.10.04