Moira Jeffrey: 'Do we trust the Scottish landscape so little that we must always try to improve it with spectacle?'

SO THE Gretna Landmark Trust has announced a shortlist of three artists, one of whom will work on Border Crossing – The Great Unknown, a "monumental contemporary landmark" for the Gretna area.

There is Ned Kahn, an American environmental artist who specialises in weather effects.

There's Cecil Balmond Studio, the genius structural engineer who has made some of the most complex buildings in the world stand up, best known in the art world for his work with Anish Kapoor, including the gargantuan AcelorMittal Orbit for the Olympics.

Then there's architect Chris Eyre, who as part of Wilkinson Eyre designed the Gateshead Millennium Bridge.

The selected artist will work with Andy Goldsworthy and Charles Jencks, as part of a project "that will herald the main national gateway into Scotland".

Jencks is behind Landform at the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art. Goldsworthy is a much-celebrated sculptor who seems to have rediscovered his mojo in recent years.

Of course, it's good that Dumfries and Galloway wants to invest in artists who have made such long-term commitments to working in – and transforming – the area, but does our border country really need an iconic landmark?

The UK is rapidly becoming so littered with landmarks and roadside monuments that future generations will believe we worshipped the motor car above all else.

The dreary Broxden roundabout by Perth simply looks more pathetic with the sudden appearance of a rather oddly shaped grouse. Cumbernauld's Mermaid does nothing to improve the quality of life in the town, aimed as it is at passing motorists.

The Angel Of The North has cast a long shadow over our public landscape. Are we in danger of turning our faces (and our public wallets) away from art that is human in scale or that puts people before people carriers?

Goldsworthy's contribution will involve a walking trail, but the overall monumental emphasis of the project is aiming squarely at the ten million drivers who cross the Border every year.

Do we trust the Scottish landscape so little that we must always try to improve it with spectacle?

I worry that one day will we turn round and recognise that the monumental art that infests our motorway network is as dated and quaint an idea as the Little Chefs and ugly service stations that were once heralded as the epitome of modern mobility.

This article was first published in Scotland On Sunday, 9 January, 2011