Dorothy Dick, Sculptor, Artist and Engineer
This week’s post is an appreciation of a sculptor who once lived in Earlspark Avenue, the street where my house that is the subject of House History is located. Dorothy died in 2023.
It was at a branch meeting of the Labour Party that I first met Dorothy. This was in the days when membership of the Party was buoyant and active enough to have several branches in each constituency. We met monthly in a small community hall in Pollokshaws and she introduced herself to me when I was the branch secretary in the early 1990’s. We realised that we lived in the same street, and she invited me to her house for coffee.
Dorothy lived at number 38 and the design and layout of her house in the 1990’s was the same as mine at number 7…except for one important fact. When she purchased the house, and I am uncertain when that was, it had not been changed internally in anyway other than additional power supply fittings. The rear scullery was still with it’s original Belfast sink and wooden sink boards. She may have introduced a small cooker and a fridge, but that was all. The rear room, the kitchen and box bed arrangement was complete. Having coffee with her in that room was like returning to the beginning of the century, sitting in front of the cooking range.
The reason for sitting in that room was simply because the front room that in nearly every house in Earlspark would have been the sitting room or lounge, was devoted to her studio. Upstairs she had the same three rooms in the same order as mine, but she had ensured that what is, in most of our houses a large front bedroom, was retained as a lounge, sitting room as the original design had intended.
Dorothy’s studio was extraordinary because it was devoid of anything other than the original fittings that included a beautiful fireplace and ornamental wooden mantlepiece that I suspect that most residents in Earlspark had ripped out as part of the post Second World War modernisation movement. There were trestle tables to carry her sculpting equipment, pieces of work she was progressing with, a huge block of cement fondue which was her favourite medium. As a result, the floor and any other surfaces was covered in a thick layer of cement fondue dust. There were maquettes of future objects that she would later sculpt, arranged around the tables.
At the time of meeting Dorothy, I was active in Queen’s Park Camera Club. This was during the last decade of film photography, and I was a keen novice learning about developing and printing my own photos which all members of the club were encouraged to submit to competitions. I mentioned this to her and asked her if she would have any objections to me coming to her house and taking photos of her studio and also a portrait of her in her studio.
I arrived with my simple camera bag with simple accessories and a tripod and spent an hour with her. I had no other objective than to take as many pictures that would tell a simple story. Some would be submitted to competitions with no other intention than to have them displayed on the wall. I think the kindest comment I received was a suggestion that it was like ‘chocolate box’ photography. The sort of picture that would be displayed on a tin of toffees in the 1960’s. However, I did enjoy the portrait which for me, summed Dorothy up. An interesting, interested, artist who devoted her retirement to doing what she had always wanted to do prior to taking up an engineering profession.
Face to Face. 1995. Black and White photograph by D.Carver
There is a detailed obituary that was published in The Scotsman in December 2023 shortly after she died that describes her reluctance to take up a place at art school and her decision to become an engineer. Her extraordinary career included working on missile performance, nuclear power stations and oil platforms, before taking up her art career permanently after she retired.
She was closely connected to the Joan Hughson Gallery in Glasgow and I have discovered a website devoted to Dorothy which appears to be a contemporary tribute to her.
Wood panel relief 1985. Black and white photograph 1995 by D.Carver
Dorothy was modest about her work, describing how earlier critics of her initial work suggested that it had all been done before and Henry Moore’s influence was obvious in her work. She had a persistent desire to produce work that may well have mirrored other’s, although her ideas and objects were well executed and sometimes singular in their creation.
Wood carving in the sculptor’s garden. Black and white photograph by D.Carver 1995.
Dorothy had inherited property from her mother in Scourie on the west coast of Scotland where she had a bothy and byre across the road from where she lived to use as a studio. I visited her there about ten years ago. I had not contacted her to tell her I was visiting and had to ask a postwoman where she lived. “You have just driven past her” I was told. I did recognise her when we met but she was vague about me. I wondered if she was losing some of her memory. She invited me into her small house and over coffee she warmed to remembering some of her Glasgow life and our previous meetings.
I did not see or hear of Dorothy Dick again after that visit but occasionally searched online for her. Her death has generated a lot more interest, as is the case with many artists. It is not just her art that drew me to her. She was an intelligent and interesting person to know with a broad interest in politics and philosophy. As for her house, it was a remarkable place while she was there.
The Sculptor’s Table 1995. Black and white photograph by D.Carver
The Sculptor’s Desk 1995. Black and white photograph by D.Carver.