I was disappointed when I first joined the PAS and began to receive the newsletters. I was not disappointed by the articles, interpretations and discussions about our physical Pictish heritage, but rather by the "thrust" there was behind ‘contemporary’ Pictish art. It has become very clear very quickly to me that the words "Pictish-inspired" referring to an artist/craftsperson means little more than "makes slavish copies of designs researched by George Bain" I think that anyone who has encountered ‘Pictish’ produce in craftshops will understand what I mean. The Z-rod, the V-rod, Burghead bulls, and (more puzzlingly for ‘Pictish’ art) grotesques from the Book of Kells blossom upon pieces of craftware from jewellery to jumpers to jam jar lids.

Now I do not wish to cast scorn upon the skill, commitment and products of the crafts people who make a living from this occupation, But I do feel that the PAS newsletter is kidding itself if it feels that such ware is genuinely a Pictish art form. The transfer of the above symbols onto contemporary craft is to make them mere ornament, for they become dislocated spatially, spiritually and indeed culturally from their true origins in the process. If anyone is still not clear about my argument, let them call Picasso to mind who was "inspired by Iberian sculpture" but who in the end did not produce static imitations of museum pieces, but created a new art that spoke for his time.

So what, then, do I mean by proposing a programme for Pictish artists? First, let me ask that we abandon all attempts to integrate Z-rods, V-rods, 'cauldrons' and combs or mirrors into 2-dimensional work. Such symbols may be aesthetic, but we have to accept that we cannot ever be sure of their meaning. Heed the cautionary tale of the nameless football manager who began a speech in a foreign country with what he thought were the words "ladies and gentlemen" he had cribbed from some toilet doors for he addressed his audience as "urinals and wash-hand basins" No, we must drop these intriguing symbols altogether.

However, we can adopt the aesthetic qualities contained in such carving: The economic use of line, the balance of form, the careful observation not only of the shape of birds and beasts, but of their gait, their posture, indeed, of their rhythm. We can also confidently take up the bright colours we know P and Q Celts loved to adorn their possessions with, and which seems more than likely once coated stones across Pictland. (This use of colour being likely to be more liberal and unrestrained than the conservative reconstruction on display at St. Vigeans).

Fine then, such is my advice for the form of Pictish art. What then of its substance, its meaning? My answer is bold: the Picts and their culture are dead, or if not dead, certainly buried. So let us not romanticise what little we know of them. Let us not pretend to be Picts or Pictish artists, but rather let us gain strength from the nature of their defeat; let us learn from the swift suffocation of Pictish language and culture under the Scots and Northumbrians and be strong against similar influences in art today from the west coast and arty-farty England. Let us make the prospect of loss our inspiration.

To give examples, I have no quarrel with Peter Harrison and other members of the New Glasgow School who celebrate modern city life in Scotland, illustrating its harshness, its violence, and yet its spirit. It is truly Scottish art. But is it not suited to preserving those aspects of life in our nation that are under threat, particularly in the east: pursuits of fishing, farming, berry-picking, respect of landscape (with no car parks or itinerant bars for 12th of August ‘holidaymakers‘) folk-lore and wildlife, flora and fauna. It is whilst our craftspeople engrave ‘Pictish' designs on decor that these aspects are disappearing, and, before we realise it, these aspects which many of us take for granted as representative of the Scotland we love may be gone forever - as permanently as Pictish culture. I make no apology for blaming attitudes and peoples outside Scotland for the threat to our culture, and I also take issue with such as Alexander Moffat who use the term "kale-yard" in the pejorative sense. I lament the loss of the kale-yard.

Therefore, I would invite the readers of this article to spend some time and money on the works of such artists as Johnnie Johnstone (of Forfar) or Charles Hynes who may be surprised at my description of them as Pictish artists - and PAS members to recognise that a steady hand in drawing a "swimming elephant" is not sufficient to dub one as "Pictish inspired"

Many thanks to Stuart McHardy for encouraging me to write this article.

Neil Paterson MA(Hons)