Brian focuses on turning science into an artform

Sitting in the grounds of Edinburgh College of Art, 50-year-old Brian Robertson laughs, looking very much at home as he greets students and staff who rush by the bench he is slouched on.

With his silver hair, bold pink shirt, leather jacket and Chelsea boots, he looks every bit the part of an art college lecturer.

But he is actually a student who, until two years ago, was one of the world's leading professors of neuroscience with a multi-million-pound research budget, global demands for his attention and eager colleagues hanging on his every word.

These days he lives a quieter life taking photographs for his imminent degree, while working shifts in a book shop to fund what can only be described as a life-changing move.

"I just decided I wanted a change," he smiles. "Sometimes it's good to do something different, isn't it?"

Jaws across the academic world dropped when Brian, who grew up in Granton, told staff at Leeds University he was stepping down after a high-achieving career which had seen him appointed as its prestigious chair – the Eberhard Buhl Professorship of Neuroscience – as well as the chair of neuroscience at Strathclyde University and the head of a research team at Imperial College London.

He agrees it could look like he lost his marbles in his late-40s when he told his wife Lesley, a special needs teacher from Glasgow, he wanted to end his career – with no back-up plan.

But the truth is, with her running her own specialist school and them both packing in tiring 12-hour days, they had long been craving a slower pace of life and a chance to return to Scotland to be nearer family and friends.

"There was a lot of shock when I said I was going," Brian explains. "I knew I was going to leave, but I didn't really know what I was going to do. I just knew I wanted to do something creative."

Minutes before taking a break on the bench outside, Brian had carefully unwrapped his final degree piece which had just arrived from a specialist printer in Leith.

Packaged in layer upon layer of crisp white tissue paper, he delicately eased it out of a large cardboard tube joking that, not being a father, he could only imagine the worry parents must feel about their children's welfare.

"That's how I feel about this," he had laughed nervously. He had every right to be anxious.

This week, his submission will be hung ahead of public viewing and marking next month, allowing him to find out whether his tutors rate him as highly as an artist as he was viewed a neuroscientist.

As a self-confessed "science geek", he has not found it easy to make the transition from the clinical world of academic research to the laid-back atmosphere of the college, where his classmates fondly refer to him as "Pop" because of his age.

Perhaps that is why he chose to merge his love of medical research with an interest in photography, stating on his college application what he would do if given the chance to study for a Masters of Fine Arts.

The Discoverers is it, a striking piece of work containing 44 black and white images of scientists from across the world, some Nobel Prize winners, all of whom Brian visited, interviewed and photographed over the last 18 months.

The point of the piece is simple – to break down the barriers to science he feels exist, by giving professionals "a face" and opportunity to prove they are "normal" people from diverse backgrounds.

From this, perhaps people will engage more with medical research, he hopes.

"I was asked to do a talk in a primary school last week," he smiles. "So I went and showed them a skull and spoke about the brain. When I asked them, 'What do you think a scientist looks like?', they said, 'Well, you'.

"Too often the image is a white-haired, boring old man like me. So, I showed them my photographs."

Men and women ranging from 23 through to 88 years old, from as far afield as Africa, China, New Zealand, Australia and the Middle East, form the content of his piece, which has also been made into a book with autobiographical statements from the scientists, talking about their work and interests.

One Edinburgh University neuroscientist, John Kelly, describes the Capital as perfect for him to indulge his "devotion to science, malt whisky, fine dining and classical music".

Also pictured is Horace Barlow, the 88-year-old great-grandson of Charles Darwin who is based at Trinity College Cambridge, as well as Kent-based Ehab AlMoubarak, a former Sudanese asylum seeker who specialises in using computers for biomedical experiments.

Clare Puddifoot, a PhD neuroscience student at Edinburgh University, is also featured, alongside Nobel Prize winner Eric Kandel, whom Brian visited in New York.

To bring these people to the attention of Edinburgh, Brian jumped at an opportunity to print a 12-page newspaper of his work which has been circulated in hairdressers, cafes, medical centres and on city buses.

"I really want to show what it's like behind the often closed door of scientific research," he explains.

Making his way back into the college he greets more students, many of whom he reveals he has given tips on how to study and write essays.

He certainly has enough experience given his vast education, which began in Granton before he moved to Livingston as a 12-year-old and on to Aberdeen University. He later won a scholarship for a PhD in Australia where he lived for a short while with his wife, before they were married, admitting he achieved more in his career than he ever thought possible.

"I really am a geek," he laughs. "You should see the number of art books I have bought since I started my degree – I pore over them every night."

It seems the only question remaining is where he goes from here?

"There is a bit of anxiety now," he smiles. "I really need to get back on the horse and I think I would like to do some lecturing. I was very well educated by this country and I do feel I could give something back in return.

"Knowledge is a bit like a flame – you cannot hold on to it, you have to give it away."