Neolithic Scotland
By Kasia Middleton
Wandering absentmindedly through the British Museum on an icy January afternoon, I found myself in the rooms without dainty paintings, shiny jewels, or colourful mosaics, and was instead surrounded by grey stones, all shaped differently, but all looking rather lifeless and dull. Nevertheless, not wanting to brave the snow outside, I was taking my time, and for once I slowed down enough to read the plaques.
Figure 1 Various carved stone balls, c.3000-2000 BCE. Stone, each around 7 cm in diameter, British Museum. Photo courtesy of the British Museum.
It was then that I saw three carved stone spheres, two with large protrusions on the side, and one covered in many small bumps [Fig. 1]. They were described in the display as “carved stone balls” (abbreviated by scholars to CSBs, as I would later discover) dating from 3000-2000 BCE, and members of a collection of hundreds of similar mysterious petrospheres, a resoundingly and almost uniquely Scottish phenomenon. They are, according to the British Museum, unusual in their beauty and precision.
It was at this point that I stopped thinking about these grey, stony rooms as being home to mundane tools and objects only interesting as evidence of life. I considered their place in the history of art.
Producing art is human instinct. The urge to leave one’s mark is scratched onto cave walls as far back as we can trace humanity. Art history is therefore an all-encompassing field of study, the limitations of which are inextricably linked with human imagination.
In studying art, naturally there is a gravitation towards that which is easily understood: that ever-familiar Classical and biblical imagery, naturalistic colour, and virtuosic style which covers the tote bags of museum gift shops and inhabits the popular imagination of art and the artist.
But art can be much more than this. What happens when we take a shape we recognise and distort it? How can we interpret the form in abstraction? Can we make art more conceptual than representative? All questions which occupy the modern imagination. There is a beautiful, cyclical composition to the story of art, then. The mysterious, unfamiliar styles of Neolithic art are often left out of art history, yet they align so perfectly with the abstract, decorative nature of modern style.
It was in this vein that I decided to learn more about these artworks of Neolithic Scotland. Unfortunately, the first piece of information I encountered was how little we know about them. Often, we don’t even understand where they were found in the modern day. Findspots are rarely properly recorded, and the vast majority are just jotted down as towns or villages rather than specific points. Many CSBs were discovered incidentally during agricultural work. We don’t know why they were made, or who made them.
Figure 2 Chris Stewart-Moffitt, replica carved stone balls demonstrating original colouration, 2021. Photo courtesy of Chris Stewart-Moffitt.
What I did discover though, was that my impression of a grey, stony Neolithic period was a false one. Years of dirt accumulation in the ground, on top of the grease and residue transferred onto the CSBs from handling has led them all to appear the same, dark grey colour. However, as shown by Chris Stewart-Moffitt’s replicas [Fig. 2], they would actually have been many different shades when first produced. This piqued my interest, as not only were they carefully carved, but they also demonstrated awareness of the importance of colour in art. CSBs were yet further inducted into the art historical canon of my imagination.
Figure 3 Towie Ball, c. 3000 BCE. Stone, 7.3 cm in diameter, National Museum of Scotland. Photo courtesy of the National Museum of Scotland.
The three carved stones in the British Museum are but a drop in the ocean of hundreds of these spheres found across Scotland. A boom in their rate of discovery took place during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries due to an increase in agricultural activity and restructuring. One of the most intricate and beautiful examples of a CSB is the Towie Ball [Fig. 3]. In 1966, Thomas Powell suggested its swirling and hypnotic surfaces are reminiscent of eyes, but we still are not certain this is true. It has been posited that they might have a spiritual or religious function. Either way, they are far from the mundane utility we usually associate with Neolithic objects. The Towie Ball has four protrusions, and one is undecorated. To me, this suggests that perhaps it was meant for display, to be placed on its plain side to allow the three carved sides to be on view (although the rounded surface may not have been entirely practical to this end – alas, the mystery continues). The Towie Ball demonstrates that CSBs showed an awareness of visual and functional aspects of art.
Figure 4 Louise Tait, Outside the Glass Box, 2011. Glass. Photo courtesy of Perth Museum & Art Gallery.
The function of these objects, however, is not where my particular interest lies. So far, I have discussed how these objects seem to fit within an art historical canon we are not often keen to expand beyond the boundaries of Classical antiquity. What was particularly interesting in this vein was encountering modern artworks which paid homage to CSBs. Glass artist Louise Tait has made multiple representations of CSBs, such as Outside the Glass Box (2011) [Fig. 4], in collaboration with Perth Museum, and Mine (2011) [Fig. 5]. Both are colourful reminders of how CSBs might have originally looked before they were tarnished, and the hand represented in the latter humanises those who made and used them, reminding us of their position in the history of Scottish art.
Figure 5 Louise Tait, Mine, 2011. Glass. Photo courtesy of Chris Stewart-Moffitt and Louise Tait.
The CSBs have also inspired larger works, such as Remco de Fouw’s public installation First Conundrum (2000) [Fig. 6], located across from the Usher Hall in Edinburgh. Many different representations of CSBs, which are of varying sizes with varying numbers of protrusions act as a visual ode to petrospheres. Integrated into the work is a more abstracted CSB with a split down the middle allowing it to function as a fountain, producing a fan of water. De Fouw here seems to ask the viewer to consider the very parallels between modern conceptions of art and these Neolithic rocks which inspired me to learn more. The glittering fountain concealing technological advancements lies alongside many simple carved stones. We are not so different from our ancestors who felt the compulsion to create.
Figure 6 Remco de Fouw, First Conundrum, 2000. Limestone, granite, stainless steel, bronze, cement, water, light, bearings, Festival Square, Edinburgh. Photo courtesy of Remco de Fouw.
Whether CSBs functioned as currency, objects of devotion, tools, weights, or decorative pieces is largely irrelevant when I consider what we can learn from them. Rooms of Neolithic objects in museums no longer function in my mind as glorified tool sheds, but as houses of art just like every other glass case I would treat with awe. CSBs are a wonderful example of how art has connected people in Scotland across thousands of years, and will continue to do so thousands of years into the future. The human instinct to create is as enduring as the stone spheres themselves.
Bibliography
De Fouw, Remco. “First Conundrum.” Accessed January 9, 2024. http://www.remcodefouw.net/first-conundrum-2000/
National Museums of Scotland. “Towie Ball.” Accessed January 9, 2024. https://www.nms.ac.uk/explore-our-collections/stories/scottish-history-and-archaeology/towie-ball/
Powell, Thomas George Eyre. Prehistoric Art. London: Thames and Hudson, 1966.
Stewart-Moffitt, Chris L. The Circular Archetype in Microcosm: The Carved Stone Balls of Late Neolithic Scotland. Oxford: Archaeopress, 2022.