Knowe or Knoll?

Hills alone happen to fall outside the range and variety of English, and that the solution is to be found in Gaelic, a language which contains in its small vocabulary I think thirty-three descriptions for mountain.’

– Charles Plumb: Walking in the Grampians

Place-names are acts of communal memory. If there are thirty-three names for hills it is because there are thirty-three hill forms that require to be remembered by the people who make up a language community.

At the heart of this project is a collection of a thousand place-names from the Cairngorm region for which I have composed new English translations, or versions. The names – predominantly Gaelic, but with some examples in Scots, English, Norse, remnant Pictish, or a hybrid of some of these – are selected from Adam Watson’s three published collections. One of the great works of Scottish folklore in the modern era, these books contain many names that are not marked on OS maps
. An alternative folk cartography emerges, defined by crofters and stalkers. Adam’s translations are definitive, being based on a working knowledge of Deeside Gaelic, conversations with speakers, and notes, including those made by Professor Diack between the world wars. The Deeside dialect that is now extinct.

Adam’s approach to Gaelic place-names belongs to an existing tradition, the most notable exponent being the great Celticist WJ Watson, followed by the internationally renowned scholar WHF (Bill) Nicolaisen of the Elphinstone Institute, who sadly passed away last Autumn. Unlike modern translations of Gaelic poetry, this tradition follows Gaelic orthography; in shorthand I call it the ‘hill of’ school, as, for instance, in this translation by
William Forsyth:


The Hill of The Notch
The original name is ancient and it has been eroded over generations of Gaelic and then Scots speakers. It is probably from the Gaelic, Beinn Eige, where eag means notch or cleft. Eag, also found in Monega, in the White Mounth, and smuggled into the Scots sneck, sometimes used in local names, which means ‘latch, a catch, a lever or small bolt which moves the catch of a door’ (Dwelly), and also the accident of pinching fingers in a door as it closes, leaving a nick.


The cleft, narrow gap, or notch in a hill unlocks a route through: it is for our walking feet not our looking eyes that the form is named.

The Sneck

The Latch

This name is from the original Gaelic, An Sneag, referring to a col between Ben Avon and Beinna’ Bhuird. It also occurs in other locations in the region, combining Scots and Gaelic, just as other names combine Pictish and Gaelic.

The Sneck o Càrn a’ Mhaim
The Sneck o Garbh-choire
The Sneck o Lochnagar
The Sneck o the Coire Glas

Adam translates Bynack differently, by referring back to Mathieson, who gives the original Gaelic as Beinneag

Little Peak

Peter Drummond has a half-page devoted to the various possibilities in his Scottish Hill Names, and he settles for ‘pointed’. This is my version, following Drummond


Pointy-top Ben

Manus: ‘What sort of translation is that, Owen?’
: ‘Did I make a mess of it?’
: ‘You weren’t saying what Lancey was saying!’
: ‘“Uncertainty in meaning is incipient poetry” – who said that?’
: ‘There was nothing uncertain about what Lancey said: It’s a bloody military operation! … what’s “incorrect” about the place-names we have here?’
: ‘Nothing at all. They’re just going to be standardised’.
: ‘You mean changed into English?’
: ‘Where there’s ambiguity, they’ll be Anglicised.’

Brian Friel: Translations
Is there any culture more remote from an understanding of its own place-names meanings than Scotland’s, thanks to the loss of Gaelic? Survey any region in the Highlands and you will come across names that have uncertain meanings. The language was purposefully eroded from without and within, and the spoken dialect contained in the misshapen mould of writing and ‘improved’ maps. In Upper Deeside, Gaelic blended together, or was diluted by, or over-written by, a blanket of what Adam calls Highland English’ – referring to Scots, or Doric. The Dark Corrie Burn is an example.

Allt Dubh-choire

Duchrie Burn

As well as hill of, the most common example of the traditional style of translation are the many ‘burn of’, for example:

Allt Coire na h-Eilde

Burn of the Corry of the Hind

Allt na Clais Coire na Feadaige

Burn of the Hollow of Corrie of the Golden Plover

This is accurate to the Gaelic. Deer have their haunts and customary paths, which stalkers train themselves to follow; plovers have their nests in heather and bog cotton. As a poet-translator I decided to lay the meaning down the ordinary English – though the second portmanteau is a challenge.

Allt Coire na h-Eilde

Hind’s Corrie Burn

Allt na Clais Coire na Feadaige

Golden Plover Corrie Howe Burn

The imagery of place-names is common-sense, laying the body and things to hand over the land. A corrie is literally a kettle, often containing the spout of a burn.


There’s an awkwardness in the well intended othering which colours the non-Gaelic speakers Romantic affection – I include myself in this – for names or poems in translations characterized by a seemingly old fashioned syntax and pastoral mindset. Many names are old, some are ancient, but the act of translation is making new, bringing meanings or images over into today’s English. Traditional translations are correct, respectful of the language they are devoted to, but they constrain Gaelic in a time (past) and place (far away). As a non-Gaelic speaker my translations are versions, and my project a counterpoint to the conservative – in the best sense of the word – tradition of place-name study. To some these names will seem wrong.

Deploying a richer range of words allows a greater range of resonances; for instance, hill forms that refer to parts of the body, or the relationship between colour names and geology, or flora. Bringing more of the sense over into English reveals bioregional characteristics: the names define an eco-poetics. For example, breac or breacan names are usually given as speckled, but within a collection of names there is the opportunity to refer to pockling, bespangling, variegation, or freckling. Breacan is the material reality of granite and heather competing on the hillside, and it is this that makes the landscape ‘tartan’,
breacan an fhélidh, which influenced traditional kilt and tweeds colours. Different checks can be described in different ways. There is no reason that an accurate descriptive term like breacan should not be brought over into English conversation.

Where I was able to view a location I tried to find a term appropriate to the toponymic feature. N
ot all tom’s are hillocks; there are knowe’s, mounts, tumps, or barrows, depending on the shape and historical context.

Names are also alignments, and they speak to where we see from as much as what is seen on the horizon. The Faithless Shepherds and Cailleachs have to be seen the right way to assume the characters. Some place-names make sense from particular views, as with Cairn Toul, Barn Hill, seen from the expanse of Mòine Mhòr, for, as Plumb says, the summit forms ‘the flat upper edge of a roof’ and the archer’s corrie, Coire Cadha an Fhir Bhogha, forms ‘a complete gable at one end.’

Favouring topophillia – the love of particular places – I believe that our fondness and care for a landscape grows when we know the meanings of names, even when those meanings conflict, or the door of comprehension can only be opened part of the way.
Knolls and knowes define different bioregions and these, in turn, associate with different grasses and flowers, different skies, different moods, and different poets. I will go to Somerset to lie on a knoll of bluebells. I will use the Scots knowe to rhyme with howe, a hollow, the two being inverse forms in the land.


Bog-myrtle Bit

In Adam’s translation Rideach, in Glen Gelder, is place of bog myrtle. Also known as candle berries, and popular for its scent, Geoffrey Grigson says that the Gaels used the myrtle for bedding as a preventative for fleas.
For the Highlands the translations ‘field’ and ‘meadow’ sometimes seem too gentle, suggesting arable sward. In the same way ‘place’ can seem too general, too disinterested, and I prefer the more earthed ‘patch’, or slang ‘bit’, which we used when I was a boy – ‘are you coming over to my bit tonight’.

Sauch Sheil
Saugh Craig
Todd's Burn
Muckle Cairn
Screichin Burn
Yowdendrift Burn

These are some place-names in Glen Ey that Kathleen Jamie has translated into Scots, based on my versions, inspired by Adam’s translations from Gaelic. Sometimes a little strangeness is good, allowing us to appreciate willows, foxes, snowdrifts, and waters that make a crying sound afresh. This is one gain of many-culturedness. There is even something to be said for half-knowing a language, for the moments of surprise that let us down into the ordinary. Names lift us into the complexity of ecology, at the same time as they divide it up into human parts.


Big Mount

The Tom

The Knowe

Walter Benjamin turns to an image from landscape to define the relationship between a translated text and its original. As if in a poem of Paul Celan’s, he describes the translation is a ‘wooded ridge’ facing into the ‘language forest’ – ‘it calls into it without entering. This phrase has always made me think of a wooded crag beneath the Lochnagar massif, overlooking the ancient pinewood of Ballochbuie.  

Creag Doin


             Parapet Crag
                    Deepwall Crag

Which translation is more accurate? There is another possibility, that doin was brought over from the Gaelic daimh, giving rock of stag, which would suit its prestigious location. It is tempting to create compound translations covering the possibilities.

The Stag’s Deepcrag

In his essay 'On the Mimetic Faculty' Benjamin discusses the operation of language, presenting the concept of ‘non-sensuous similarity...

‘… for if words have meaning the same thing in different languages are arranged about that thing as their centre, we have to inquire how they all - while often possessing not the slightest similarity to one another - are similar to what they signify at their centre.

The distance between Gaelic and English is so great and they have so little common heritage that the task of connecting them centre-to-centre is a challenge. In my translations I have tried to follow the grain of English.

Craig Doin

Deep Crag

what the cliffs

Leathad Grianain

Sunspot Slope

where the slopes

Grianan is a sunny place, usually a slope, useful for pasture, or as a drying place for peat, and most famous from Deirdre's sun bower, the bender she and the three brothers summered in, by Loch Etive. Because of their steep sides rentals in some glen showed differences according to whether the farm was in the sun or shade, sometimes referred to in old leases as solaris and umbralis.

Who could resist the name
Preas Bad Smeòraich?

Preas Bad Smeòraic

hrush’s Thicket
There are still a few straggling birch at the far end of Loch Muick to hold onto the name, despite the destructive levels of deer that the Balmoral and Glen Muick Estates maintain. In his 18th century Gaelic-English Vocabulary the poet Alasdair Mhic Mhaighstir gives: ‘Preasurnach: A Place where Shrubs grow.’  

after Adorno

don’t go looking 
for groves in a thicket

Preas is one of a few Pictish loanwords that have endured; it refers to brushwood, differentiated by height and density from the Gaelic bad, a tufted thicket, or scrubby copse. Does this unusual name tell us that the area was doubly thicketed?

Whenever I encounter Pictish I recall
Simon Taylor saying that no comprehensible sentence in the language has survived; not one, only a few scattered words, or word-branches, where they came over into Gaelic use during the assimilation of the two communities. We can bring back the birch, but once a language is lost it is gone forever.

‘Bealach … signifies a pass for travelers. Indeed, its original meaning was way or route.’

John Murray

Another worry for the translator is what I call ‘the lump’ problem: meall. The traditionalists translate this with the technically correct but ugly English word ‘lump’. John Murray, who has already made a significant contribution to the field with his primer Reading the Gaelic Landscape, comes to the rescue; referring back to Dwelly he adds these alternatives: ‘mass of any matter, heap (as of earth), hill, eminence, great shapeless hill, mound’. William Forsyth adds a ball, round mass, swelling, or buttocks. (John’s project is the ideal pocketbook for a place-aware journey in the Highlands).

In terms of colours, I tend to use
dark for dubh – echoing the Scots inflection of the Gaelic, heard in Dubrach and Duchrie – whereas the traditionalists prefer black. There is no true black found in living nature. That doesn’t argue against its validity in a place-name, for names are no more accurate than our descriptive habits, but I prefer darkness – the deadening of light in a pinewood, or the shadows in heather contrasting with pale grass on a hillside. Dark may be less accurate, but it offers more mood than black. Even in pitch night we don’t reach the far end of the colour spectrum.

[duh]: black; dark; black/dark-haired, very, extremely; pupil (of eye) Etymology: from the Old Irish dub, from the Proto-Celtic *dubu- (black), from the Proto-Indo-European *dʰewbʰ- (black).’

Sròn Dubh

Dark Neb

The Dubrach


Some of the most beautiful names belong to sheiling or ruighe, transhumant summer dwellings that passed out of usage by the 19th century. Shieling contributed to the ecological mosaic of the moor, with low numbers of cattle dunging the land and keeping down the heather. They were places of sharing learning and lore, healing, and courtship, as well as labour.

There is a renewal of interest in shieling today as a historical model of the commons, stretching from urban crofts to free-to-use media. My collaborator on this project, Jo Vergunst, introduced me to a long-term archaeology led renewal of the woodland and hillside of Bennachie, where there is a proposal to construct a croft garden, returning a useful-to-human range of flora to the hill. I will return to this in a future post.

In his name books Adam usually translates ruighe as cattle-run. My preference, summer pasture, is intended to help the reader know the season they were used in and suggest what for.

The Gaelic
Ruighe implies the human arm or, more precisely, the fore-arm, which came to refer to the spreading lower slope on a hill, and this acquired a specialized meaning through its use as hill pasture when beasts had to be kept away from the crops down in the strath.

The use of a
irigh is very rare in Cairngorms, although it is found in Perthshire. In his essay, ‘Perthshire Shieling’, Albert Bil distinguishes between the two usages, which can still be traced in worked soil and green patches.

If the 'ruighe' term was reserved to describe the land on mountainsides that could be cultivated, it would help to explain why this element is often found in the environs of hill slopes on which minerals and soil naturally collect. It is only a small step to extend these distinctions in the environmental settings of 'airigh' and 'ruighe' to the idea that each word was used to describe farming activities,
since the physical character of the land largely determined what it was used for. 'Airigh' may have referred only to an aspect of livestock husbandry, while 'ruighe' (with its links to the localized areas of better-quality land) may have implied occasional or long-sustained cultivation as well.

Rineten, a croft on Gairnside, is another example of a name that represents a division of land. Adam’s translation gives Land portion of the juniper; I chose to adopt the American idiom.


The Juniper Spread

Roinn an Fhùcadair

The Fuller’s Lot

Adam gives Roinn an Fhùcadair, a ruined farm in Glen Fenzie, as land portion of the fuller, which I say is his, or her, lot in life.
One of the Pictish words that is most discussed is Pett-, or Pitt-, which Simon Taylor suggests referred to a dependent estate, the ferm-toun of its day.
‘Near Monadh Mór is the small loch names on some maps Lochan Suarach, the Insignificant Loch, on others Loch an Stuirteag, Loch of the Black-headed Gull. It is unlikely that the original form of the name will now be known; it has been obscure too long.’

Seton Gordon: Highlands of Scotland


In a future post I will discuss Scots place-names that imitate Gaelic by sound rather than sense in greater detail. These sound-alike names encouraged me to occasionally veer into the innovative word- and name-play beloved of cryptic, code-composing, ode-breaking poets, such as Louis Zukofsky, whose homophonic translations of Catullus were composed by ear.

dicit: sed mulier cupido quod dicit amanti,
in vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua.

Dickered: said my love air could be o could dickered a man              too
             in wind o wet rapid a scribble reported in water.
In Zukofsky’s Eighty Flowers golden rod – solidago – becomes ‘solid-day go’.

Slochd Mòr is the sounds-like English slough, a chasm or gap, referring to the glen between Ben Avon and Beinn a’ Bhuird.

Slochd Mòr

Big Slough

Stob Liath

Grey Stop

For Stob Liath Adam gives grey point, referring to a rock at the top of Glen Gelder. Murray adds stake as another meaning of stob, which is still used in Scots today. I follow the sound‘s sense.

Tom na h-Ola

Oo Knowe

Glacan Poll Smìoraich

Wee Dip of the Dipping

Oo is a wonderful Scots word for wool, recorded from Orkney to Galloway, giving me a translation that of pastoral lowing. Adam gives little hollow of hole of sheep-dipping for Glacan Poll Smìoraich.

The photographer and conservationist Arthur Gardner was appalled by Gaelic vocabulary, which he felt abounded:

'in sounds that no tongue not brought up to it can produce... (and) words so long and forbidding in appearance that they rouse the same sort of repulsion in the mind of a stranger that the old-fashioned art student feels on visiting an exhibition of Cubist pictures'.

He sums up a stubborn attitude, but perhaps there is inspiration to be had in the provocative comparison with Cubism? Can we not use modern techniques, some of which suggest the estrangement and trauma that has befallen Gaelic culture? For example, Celan’s compound words are tempting as a means to represent Gaelic names – these are all from Pierre Joris’ translations.

greyblack wastes
sea-ish lightswamp
open-/ leafed Biblemountains

Rody Gorman has made interesting use of this approach in his recent ‘intertonguing’ translations of the Sweeney cycle.‘i see Scotland wantingfrom me over there and Dumbarton from Trostan and the slopes of Slemish

where i spent all of seven years as a strongyoungpupilfarm-handchurch-tenantcryservant looking after my own flockherd…’
– Rody Gorman, from ‘Strongyoungpupilfarm-handchurch-tenantservantcry’ 

I decided to keep to the main path between the two languages.

I will end this blog with some examples of name translations from
Richard Perry’s In The High Grampians (1948), taken from his account of living in Glen Feshie.

Achadh-Leathainn (Achlean), The Wide Field
A'Chioch, The Pap
A Choairnich, The Rowan Hill
Allt an Tulaich, The Burn of the Small Green Hill
Allt Bhran, The Burn of the Raven
Allt Domhain, The Deep Burn
Allt Garbh Ghaig, The Burn of the Rough Pass
Allt Linneach, The Burn of the Pools
Allt Lorgaidh, The Burn of the Pass (The Lorgie)
Allt-na-Leum, The Burn of the Jump
Allt Ruadh, The Red Burn
Allt Sgairnich, The Burn of the Scree
A'Mhointeach Mhor (Am Moine Mhor), The Great Moss
An Garbh Coire, The Great Rough Corrie

Badan Dubh, The Black Clump
Badan Mosach, The Ugly Clump
Baideanach (Badenoch), The Marshy Place
Balanscrittan, The Township of Running Gravel
Ballintian, The Township of Fairy Knoll
Beinn Mac Dhui, The Hill of the Sons of Duff
Bhaile-Ruaidh (Bulroy), The Red Fold (Stell)
Blar-a-Mhinistir, The Minister's Moss
Blar-nan-Saighead, The Moss of Arrows
Bothan Oifigeir Ahuibh, The Black Officer's Bothy
Brae Riach, The Brindled Hill
Bruach Dubh, The Black Bank
Bruthach an Sguilein, The Brae of the Wicker-Creel

Cadha nan Coin Duibh, The Steep Path of the Black Hound
Caigeann, The Stony Hill Face
Cairn Gorm, The Blue Hill
Carn an Fhidhleir, The Fiddler's Cairn
Carn an T-Sabhail (Cairn Toul), The Hill of the Barn
Carn Ban Beag, The Little White Hill
Carn Ban Mhor, The Big White Hill
Carn Dearg, The Red Hill
Cinn-Ghiubhsaich (Kingussie), At the End of the Pine Forest
Ciste Mhearad, Margaret's Chest (Coffin)
Cladhan, The Deep Hollow
Clach-Meall, The Rounded Hill of Stones
Cnoc-a-Chenn, The Head of the Hillock
Cnoic-a-Chanaich, The Hill of Cotton-Grass
Coille-Chuntainn (Killiehuntly), The Wood of Contin (Meeting-place of Waters?)
Coire Bhrodainn, The Corrie of the Fierce Hound
Coire Both-Cloiche, The Corrie of the Stone Bothy
Coire Brocair, The Corrie of the Fox-Hunter
Coire Cathh-nam Fionn, The Corrie of the Warrior-Bands
Coire Creagach, The Rocky Corrie
Coire Dhondail, The Corrie of the Stirk-Dale
Coire Fhearnagan, The Corrie of the Alder Burn
Coire Fhearnasdail (Corarnstil), The Corrie of the Alder Dell
Coire A'Gharbhlaich, The Corrie of the Rough Place
Coire Mhadagain Mhoir, The Big Corrie of the Wolf
Coire Odhar, The Dun-coloured Corrie
Coire Odhar nan Each, The Dun-coloured Corrie of the Horses
Coire Ruadh (Cor-Roy), The Red Corrie
Corarnstilbeg, The Little Corrie of the Alder Dell
Crag an Leth-Choin, The Lurcher's Crag
Creag Dubh, The Black Crag
Creag Far-Leitire, The Rocky Slope
Creag Ghiubhsachan, The Crag of the Pinewoods
Creag Liath, The Grey Crag
Creag Mhigeachaidh, The Crag of the Bleating of the Goat
Creag na Gaibhra, The Crag of the Goats
Creag na Sroin, The Rocky Nose
Creag Tharsuinn, The Cross-Ways Rock (?)
Cruaidh-Leac, The Hill of the Hard Flag-Stones

Dail Bailaghiubhais (Balguish), The Dell of the Township of the Pines
Druim-a-Ghiubhais (Drumguish), The Ridge of the Pines

Eas A'Choin Duibh, The Black Dog's Falls

Fionnar Coire, The Cool Corrie
Fluich Adagan, The Wet Stooks (of Rushes)
Fuaran Dhe, The Wells of Dee

Ghaig (gaick), The Cleft
Glait-a-Ghiubhais, The Hollow of the Pines
Gleann Comhraig, The Glen of Conflict (the Meeting-Place of Waters?)
Gleann Giusachan, The Glen of the Pine-Forest
Gleann Feisigh (Glen Feshie), The Wet Glen
Gleann Tramaidh (Glen Tromie), The Glen of the Dwarf Elder-Tree
Gobhainn dubh-a Chladaich, the Blacksmith of the Shingle
Gnaicanmair, The Bed of the Burn (Dam?)

Inbhir-Ulais (Inveruglas), The Confluence of the Black Stream

Lairig Ghru, The Gloomy (?) Pass
Loch an Duin, The Loch of the Down
Loch an T-Seilich, The Loch of the Willows
Loch Eanaich, The Loch of the Marsh
Loch Insh, The Loch of the Island
Loch Mhic-Gille Chaole, The Loch of the Son of the Thin Fellow
Loch nan Cnapan, The Tarn of the Black-headed Gulls
Loinn-Chlaiginn (Lynchlaggan), The Glade of the Skull
Loinn-na-Biorag, The Glade of the Yellow Flower (Tormentil?)
Lubin Dhubh, The Black Flat of the Winding Stream

Meall A'Ghiubhais, The Rounded Hill of the Pines
Meall Buidhe, The Rounded Yellow Hill
Meall Dubhag, The Black Rounded Hill
Monadh Liath, The Grey Hills of the Gentle Slope
Monadh Mhor, The Big Hill of the Gentle Slope
Mullach Coire nan Dearcag, The Top of the Berry Corrie

Ruigh-Aitneachain, The Juniper Flat – which I would give as spread

Sgoran Dubh, The Peaked Hill of the Black Rocks
Sgor an Lochain Uaine, The Rocky Peak of the Green Tarn
Sgor Bhothain, The Peaked Rocky Hill of the Bothy
Sgor Gaoithe, The Windy Peak
Sroin Direachan, The Straight Nose
Sroin-na-Barionn, The Queen's Nose
Srointobair (Stronetoper), The Spring of the Rocky Nose
Sron Bhuirich, The Spur of Roaring Stags
Stac-nan-Calman, The Pigeons' Rock

Tolvah, The Hole of Drowning
Tom-Fad, The Long Bulky Hill
Toran Buidhe, The Yellow Hillocks
Tor-Breac, The Speackled Mound
Tor-Dhu, The Black Hillock

Richard Perry: In the High Grampians

Albert Bil: ‘Perthshire Shieling’, Society of Antiquities of Scotland, 1992
Hugh F. Campbell, ‘Jottings on Deeside Place-names’, Deeside Field, No.2, 1925
Peter Drummond: Scottish Hill Names 
William Forsyth, In the Shadow of Cairngorm 
Brian Friel: Translations 
Arthur Gardner: Peaks, Lochs and Coasts of the West Highlands Seton Gordon: Highlands of Scotland
Geoffrey Grigson: The Englishman’s Flora 
Robert MacFarlane: Landmarks 
John Murray: Reading the Gaelic Landscape 
WFH Nicolaisen: In the name of the Name 
Richard Perry: In the High Grampians 
Charles Plumb: Walking in the Grampians 
Adam Watson: The Place Names of Upper Deeside 
Omniglot: Colour Words in Scottish Gaelic

Tom Buailteach, Summershiel Knowe, near Abergeldie: Hannah Devereux, 2016
Monega, Snicked Mount:
Hannah Devereux, 2015
wordrawing (Sneck / Sgorr): Alec Finlay, 2016
dam, Corriemulzie, Mill Corrie:
Hannah Devereux, 2015
Glen Feardar Hannah Devereux, 2015
Meall Gorm, Bluey Hill:
Hannah Devereux, 2015
Lochnagar from Creag Nordie, Orders Crag
: Hannah Devereux, 2015
Meall Alvie, Stony Boss: Alec Finlay, 2015
Meall Dubh,
Dark Tump: Alec Finlay, 2015
Rineten and Craig of Tulloch, Rockcrag Hill:
Hannah Devereux, 2015
AF poem-labelling, Glen Derry: Hannah Devereux, 2015
Gill Russell readying the maps, Glen Derry: Hannah Devereux, 2015

with thanks to Gill Russell for locating some of the place-names.

Gathering was commissioned by Hauser & Wirth, for the Fife Arms Hotel, Braemar; the project was launched in 2015 and will conclude in 2018.

The artist residency at University of Aberdeen is funded by The Leverhulme Trust; the project was launched in July 2016 and will conclude May 2017.