Is there an ‘island aesthetic’ linking artists in Shetland, Orkney and the Hebrides?

Detail from Here, by Bronwyn Mackenzie | Bronwyn Mackenzie

“Shetland is a place of contrasts and edges, often extremes,” says artist Jane Matthews. “It’s simultaneously constant and ever-changing. The creative community is the same; the artists and makers I know are resourceful, hardy, and very responsive to their place.”

Matthews, a producer and illustrator, has just started working as Shetland’s artist advocate for #EvenHereEvenNow, a national campaign to amplify the voices of Scotland’s island-based artists. Supported by Shetland Arts, An Lanntair in Lewis, Taigh Chearsabhagh in North Uist and Pier Arts Centre in Orkney, #EvenHereEvenNow is building on the work of Even Here, Even Now, a 2024 manifesto by artists living in all four islands.

Shetland artists, Matthews notes, live so far from mainland Scotland that they “often feel a closer affinity with the North than they do with the South. The links with Norway and the countries of the Nordic rim have had a big impact on Shetland’s culture, language and heritage throughout history, and still do.”

One of Even Here, Even Now’s claims is that there is a distinct “island aesthetic”, rooted in community, landscape, and “skills & heritage not found elsewhere”. So what does that look like? It can be hard to pin down, even if a lot of island artists agree it exists and is important. For example, there’s also a clear Nordic influence in Lewis, which is full of Viking place names, but it tends to be outweighed there by the huge influence of Gaelic culture, most obviously in writing and music but also in visual art. “If you don’t understand Gaelic you don’t understand the land,” to quote Agnes Rennie, an important voice in Gaelic culture since the 1970s. 

The same could be said of Uist, another Gaelic stronghold, but famously Uist also has a dramatically different landscape from Lewis and Harris’s moors and mountains, much of it barely above sea level and particularly vulnerable to climate change. It’s a landscape with such a powerful hold on artists’ imaginations that, as Susannah Bolton of Taigh Chearsabhagh observes, it can be a refreshing change for audiences when an exhibition there actually features portraits of people. “The majority of artists I've come across engage with the landscape, seascape and wildlife,” confirms AJ Stockwell, #EvenHereEvenNow’s artist advocate in Uist.

The landscape is also important to Aine King, #EvenHereEvenNow’s artist advocate in Orkney, but in a very different way. King is a playwright and director who admits to living “a stupidly long way away from the folks I need to work with”. Even getting to Inverness is expensive and challenging, and yet King describes herself as “incredibly privileged”. “I have quiet, space, breathtakingly beautiful places to walk and think, and most of all a community that celebrates creative culture year round, where arts are knitted into the fabric of life.”

In January King will perform her own show, Lost Property Hotel, in London. “Ironically it’s a story spanning a lot of time and distance, from London’s east end to Canada to Orkney.”

Detail from Feamainn by Danielle Macleod | Danielle Macleod

“There is undoubtedly a Hebridean flavour to the work that is made here,” says Bronwyn Mackenzie, #EvenHereEvenNow’s artist advocate in Lewis and Harris, citing “the history, tradition, oral culture, or the ghosts that linger across the landscape”. Mackenzie singles out Danielle Macleod as a young Lewis-raised artist who “embodies that perfectly”. Macleod’s imagery is both strikingly contemporary and somehow ancient, evoking paganism more than the Presbyterianism that often shapes popular perception of the island. Bolton and Stockwell, meanwhile, separately namecheck Calum Ferguson as a young artist drawing on a distinctly Uist perspective.

Notably, Macleod and Ferguson both studied on the mainland before choosing to return home to pursue artistic careers. Macleod says she wants to “deepen our spiritual connections to the places we call home”. Ferguson has written that “the biodiversity, barren land/seascapes and strong Gaidhlig culture that surrounds me has been crucial in shaping my practice. Seeing first-hand the fragility of the land, weather, erosion and human impact has shaped a consistent theme of sustainability within my work and the need for more awareness of our natural environment.”

Another key influence on island culture, of course, is the significant number of artists who move to the islands from elsewhere, inspired by the landscape, the culture, or both. My neighbours in Lewis include leading contemporary artists Dalziel + Scullion, who moved here two years ago and are now making a series of films about the moors and coastline, and Jill Smith, a pioneering performance artist originally from England who is currently finishing a year-long project for the 50th anniversary of Edinburgh’s Fruitmarket Gallery, documenting rituals at various outdoor locations across the island. Artists like these make pinning down an “island aesthetic” even more complicated but they have undoubtedly made it richer, with Dalziel + Scullion becoming inspirational creative mentors to several islanders.

As for those raised in the islands, there may be something about constantly facing the ocean that encourages artists to be more outward-looking. “There’s a sense of belonging that comes with being an islander that kind of liberates me to be elsewhere,” says Shetland musician Barry Nisbet, one of the creators of the Even Here, Even Now manifesto.

Nisbet grew up among boat-builders and adventurers. If you’re used to sailing 12 hours and 238 miles just to reach the mainland, he reasons, why stop there? “I’ve been very itinerant for a lot of my life,” says Nisbet. Even so, there’s only one place he calls home.

Find out more about the campaign and manifesto via Shetland Arts, An Lanntair, Pier Arts Centre, or Taigh Chearsabhagh, or just search for #EvenHereEvenNow online.