George Bain: Master of Modern Celtic Art
15 October to 13 February, Scottish National Gallery, Edinburgh

“The inability to change is death in Art; the power to change is life.” So says the introduction to a book first published in 1945 which would enthrall future generations of artists and illustrators. George Bain, the Caithness-born art teacher who unravelled the secrets of Celtic knotwork, believed fervently that his pupils should have the tools not just to reproduce the Celtic masterpieces of 1000 years ago, but to make their own new, living designs.

I bought Bain’s book in my teens, and spent many happy hours studying the thousands of intricate diagrams, all hand-drawn, designed to turn me into a master Celtic craftsman. A handful of dots and curves would lead elegantly to some spiralling lines, and from there, with apparent ease, to full-blown interlacing. In one page he would cram enough material to keep a jeweller busy for years. I learned a few knotwork party pieces, but was happy to just stare at the rest in awe.

It’s now 130 years since George Bain was born, and 60 years since his six pamphlets were brought together as one volume, Celtic Art: The Methods Of Construction. From tomorrow, the Scottish National Gallery will host a display of the artist’s work, drawn from Groam House Museum in Rosemarkie, home to the George Bain Collection.

Susan Seright, curator at the Groam House Museum, was responsible for acquiring the collection. “My first experience of George Bain,” she explains, “was that big book. At the time when I bought it, I was living in England, and I was really homesick because I’m from the Highlands… Years later when I became involved in Groam House Museum I met some people who had been taught Celtic Art by George Bain’s son, Iain. Speaking to them, it turned out that a lot of his original artwork still existed.”

Seright visited Bain’s daughter, Clare, who was the “keeper of the family traditions”. The curator was amazed to see so many of Bain’s creations in use around the house. “The decorated wooden bowls had fruit in them; another one had eggs in it; there was a Celtic hanging on the door, keeping the draughts out. Her whippet was lying on top of this beautiful hand-made Celtic rug, in front of the fire, that she had made to one of her father’s designs. Everything – all this applied Celtic art – was being used throughout the house.”

Bain first attended art college at the age of 15, juggling his studies with work at an Edinburgh printer’s firm. He first exhibited at the Royal Scottish Academy in 1900, before winning a scholarship to London’s Royal College of Art in 1902. There, he was frustrated with its contempt for Celtic art, seen as something which could only be slavishly copied.

“It must have appeared to him very dull,” says Seright. “And when he started going to college in Edinburgh it must have been completely different, because it was the time of John Duncan and Patrick Geddes. It was probably a lot more vibrant and inspirational.” When Bain returned to Edinburgh in 1905, his fascination for insular art was completely in tune with the popular Celtic Revival of the time.

Bain “very much viewed Celtic art as Scotland’s national artform,” says Seright. “He would preach about it with missionary zeal. He passionately believed in the resurgence and the importance of the Scottish identity, and he saw teaching art – and teaching Celtic art – as being a means to the end in itself… By the 1940s you’ve got people like Wendy Wood, Douglas Young, and Hugh MacDiarmid, who were all trying to promote Scottish individuality and identity, and many of these people commissioned George Bain to produce illustrations.”

Bain spent World War I with The Royal Engineers in the Balkans, and although not an official war artist, he was encouraged by the generals to draw and paint. The Bain Collection includes some beautiful drypoints made after the artist’s return home from the war, but also one album, recently discovered, of sketches made in the field. One of these watercolours – Army tents at a Camp near Mahmudli, Macedonia – is on show  for the first time in this exhibition. It is, says Seright, “a great find and a fabulous survivor of the first World War”.

On returning home, Bain was made Principal Art Teacher at Kirkcaldy High School, where he remained until his retirement in 1946. These years offered him ample opportunity to develop his teaching tools for applied Celtic art, still determined to give students the skills needed to create their own original masterpieces. “The mere copying of the ancient work is as valueless as it is impossible,” he stated, “but by understanding the methods, new designs and even new methods in this peculiar art may be produced.”

Bain’s book, when it eventually appeared, was unprecedented. “A lot of people who’d been doing beautiful illustrations of things Celtic,” says Seright, “didn’t understand the unders, the overs and the twiddly bits, and they would reproduce it incorrectly, but Bain got it right. It’s very much thanks to him that we know so much about it today. And to this day, nobody has produced a better volume than that big book.”

The book has enjoyed a resurgence in popularity since the 1970s, and has inspired many to follow in the footsteps of Scotland’s ancient craftspeople. Artists Fiona and Burgess Hay, who have been running workshops for Groam House Museum, bought their copy in 1980, and though they had no art training, “it all stemmed from there”.

“We just got such inspiration from it,” says Fiona Hay. “I suppose if we hadn’t seen that, we wouldn’t be doing what we’re doing today.” Through their workshops, the Hays are continuing Bain’s mission to teach children the basics of Celtic art. “Children love to look at these things,” explains Fiona. “They love to give them a go.” They certainly do; I did. Bain’s pioneering book is as powerful today as it ever was, and looks set to inspire generations to come.


Catrìona Black, The Herald 14.10.11