Cardiff Bay: Star Walk Wales

 

Until quite recently, I'd never noticed these panels set into the pavement outside the Wales Millennium Centre in Cardiff Bay, and trying to find out more about them has proved difficult.
 

Online research produced the following:

• A report on The CAD Centre UK Ltd, dated June 2017, has the following mention: 'The provider [presumably The CAD Centre] is working with the architect of the Wales Millennium Centre by funding the first stages of the development of “Star Walk Wales”, an innovative project to commemorate key figures from Wales, where members of the public can interact with the “stars” and learn more about Welsh personalities.'
  
  
• According to their website, the installation work was done by a company called Atlantic Dwellings.
  
  
• A Twitter/X profile @StarWalkWales was set up in September 2016. It describes itself as follows:' Star Walk Wales, aims to create a made in Wales dedicated star-studded walk way in Cardiff Bay, to celebrate the life and work of Wales' finest achievers', but there are no posts and the account doesn't appear to be active. The website linked to this profile is also inactive.
  
  
• And it appears that the Welsh Government was not supportive of the project. Minutes of business discussed in the Senedd in November 2018 report: 'Commissioners were provided with an update on recent developments around the long-standing proposals for a ‘Star Walk Wales’. Commissioners concluded that they did not feel able to support the development of a ‘Star Walk’ on the Assembly estate.'

 

The Star Walk consists of just one 'star', a poet named Nigel Bevan. He is also something of an enigma, as online research has not produced any information about him and his work. So much for these 'stars' focusing on Wales's finest achievers!

Cardiff Bay: Pink hut

It's a strange little building, looks completely out of place where it sits, yet those two factors, and its bright pink colour, make the Pink hut one of the most recognisable buildings in Cardiff Bay.

According to the Cardiff Harbour website, the hut, which looks rather precarious on its thin stilt-like legs, was intended for use by 'local yacht clubs and other event organisers to start and control races in the estuary'. 

To be honest, that sounds very odd. Although the hut sits near the end of the eastern breakwater of the Barrage, the extreme tidal range of the Bristol Channel means that, at low tide, there is a large expanse of mud below the building, rather than water. 

And, in fact, I've read that the Pink hut has never been used for its intended purpose so now it's something of a pink elephant. Perhaps that's where the idea for its paint colour came from. 

An article on the Wales Online website, dated 6 October 2020, says the building had recently been set up as a personal gym, with a punch bag, bench, bar and weights, after being rented out to one of the Habour Authority employees. I don't know if that's still the case.

Cardiff Bay: Bowline Knot

Located off Havannah Street, at one of the entrances to Cardiff Bay Wetland Reserve, partially obscured behind the circle of shrubs that surrounds it and officially called Bowline Knot (according to the Cardiff Public Art Register), but also known as the Rope Knot, this 'cast bronze and mild steel' sculpture was created by Andrew Rowe in 2000.

The sculpture models a length of rope tied to a ring that is set into the ground with a bowline knot, the type that was traditionally used to tie ships to the dock at which they had moored. The art register reports that 'this bronze sculpture reflects Cardiff Bay's heritage as one of the worlds [sic] principal coal-exporting ports.'

You can read about Andrew Rowe's career on the Fresh Air website, and learn more about his current work and see examples of his formidable artworks on the website of DAR Design, the company he founded in 1990.

Cardiff Bay: coal dram

Most people, especially those of Scottish heritage or with strong Scottish connections, would associate the word 'dram' with whisky, the word indicating a measure of that national drink equivalent to one sixteenth of an ounce (though from experience I think most 'wee drams' would be rather more than that). In Wales, the word has an entirely different meaning – it is 'the Welsh term for a tram, a small wheeled truck used for transporting coal and other materials between the coal face and the surface'.

This particular dram is located on the approach to Cardiff Bay's Barrage, the rock, earth and concrete construction that forever closed off the bay from the adjacent Bristol Channel. It sits in a small area of coal-related ephemera, grandly labelled the Age of Coal exhibition, sandwiched between the Cardiff Sailing Centre building and an assemblage of outdoor fitness equipment. 

The information board adjacent to the dram reads as follows:

This coal dram was kindly donated by the Rhondda Heritage Park. ...
The example shown dates from around 1950 and carried one and a half tons of coal. It would also be used to carry pit props (by having the ends cut away) and explosives, when the top would be enclosed with lockable doors.
Drams could be shackled together to form trains or 'journeys' and could be as many as 40 drams in length if the train allowed.
They were pulled on rails by static haulage engines using long steel ropes or by locomotives. Drams were also pulled by colliery horses if operations were not mechanised.

 

Time goes by

 

Clock tower, Pierhead Building, Cardiff Bay

The tower is known, unofficially, as 'Baby Big Ben' and the 'Big Ben of Wales', and is certainly an impressive culmination to the iconic edifice that is the Grade-I-listed Pierhead Building (more about the building itself in a future blog). Though the face of the tower clock is the original that was installed prior to the building's opening in 1897, the clock mechanism is not. That was replaced with an electronic motor sometime in the 1970s. The original mechanism, after some peregrinations, has recently been restored, and is now housed in a specially constructed glass case in Cardiff's St Mary Street (more on that in a forthcoming post). 

Happy New Year, everyone! For 2026, I've decided to return my focus to the subjects listed in this blog's header, namely 'sprinklings of history, a smidgeon of genealogy, a dash of art, a dusting of architecture', as well as the eccentric fascinations I continue to develop. Short posts like today's, with a single, often black-and-white photograph, will be mixed, when time allows, with longer, more detailed blogs with additional illustrations. Thanks for following along.

Cardiff art: Three Ellipses

If you’ve ever walked over the Cardiff Bay Barrage, you might have noticed splotches of yellow paint, seemingly splattered randomly around the lock area, under your feet, on parts of railings and halves of benches, partially covering life buoys, swiped across fixtures and fittings. It’s really quite bizarre!

As well as being the colour of sunshine and warmth, yellow is also a colour of caution, warning of the need to be careful, to take safety precautions, so painting surfaces yellow can indicate trip hazards, concealed danger, potential obstacles. But that doesn’t seem to be the case here.

The colour yellow is also known for its high visibility, which is why it’s often used on road safety signage, on ambulances, police vehicles and fire engines. The colour can be seen, the painted shapes recognised from a distance. Now maybe we’re getting closer to an explanation of the Barrage blotches?

There’s only one way to solve this mystery, and that’s to stand in one specific spot on the Barrage near the locks and look seaward. Only then can you see, in its entirety, the amazing artwork that is Three Eclipses for Three Locks.

The brainchild of Swiss artist, Felice Varini, who specialises in optical illusional artworks, this piece was painted on the Barrage in March 2007, by a team that included professional mountain climbers to paint the less accessible spaces. I love it for the way it challenges the mind of the viewer to figure out and complete the fragmented puzzle but I do think it’s time the Cardiff Harbour Authority repainted it. It would be a great shame, and a huge waste of the initial cost of £25,000, if this piece was allowed to fade into obscurity.

Cardiff art : Cader Idris

I’ve sat and eaten my lunch on it, I’ve sheltered in its lee from driving wind and rain, but it was only recently that I finally found out more about this hulking artwork.

This is Cader Idris, a sculpture that was first sited in the large square outside Cardiff Central Station in 1999 but was moved ten years later to Cardiff Bay Wetlands Reserve. As the English section of the inscription on the plaque adjacent to the sculpture reads:

The mountains, lakes and valleys of Wales have inspired this sculpture, and in particular Cader Idris, in Snowdonia.

Naturally, many Welsh poets have found similar inspiration and it is those verses which reflect this subject that have been chosen here. All of them are by Welsh poets and in their original language, be it Welsh or English. The englyn is a unique verse form characterised by the particular setting of the lines. Four englynion are included in this selection, and the one by Rhys Dafis was especially composed for this sculpture.

At this point I was somewhat confused by the references to poetry inscriptions as I hadn’t noticed any – more on that below.

Cader Idris was created by William Pye, a London-born artist who studied sculpture at the Royal College of Art from 1961 to 1965, and has since taught and exhibited his work in museums and art galleries around the world. Although the design and dimensions of the Cardiff work were very much influenced by the Welsh mountains, Pye writes that many of his other creations have been inspired ‘by the extraordinary qualities of water and [he is] fascinated by the natural laws of hydrostatics and how these can be manipulated.’ Some of you may have seen the magnificent font he created for Salisbury Cathedral in 2008, or perhaps you’ve seen the shimmering Slipstream as you’ve passed through Gatwick Airport’s north terminal, or you may have encountered Chalice, within the precincts of 123 Buckingham Palace Road in London. Pye is a prolific creator and the list of his works is a long one.   

Returning to Cader Idris, Pye writes that his inspiration came partly from a painting of the mountain by Richard Wilson (1714-82), which Pye says ‘has been a particular favourite of mine since my schooldays and holidays in Wales. This painting has inspired me to create a number of sculptures, the Cader Idris Series.’      

Cader Idris is 13 feet (4 metres) tall and made from a combination of Woodkirk sandstone and Welsh blue pennant slate, which the sculptor explains as follows on his website: ‘Water is inferred at the centre of the structure where the darker pennant stone represents a cwm (circular lake) at the foot of an escarpment.’ Pye goes on: ‘The bronze element of the sculpture suggests a rock outcrop and is set with verses in Welsh and English, all by Welsh poets.’

Now I was even more confused, as it seems I had missed both poetry inscriptions and the ‘bronze element’, so I returned to the sculpture for another look. Still nothing. Then, after much searching, I discovered that the artwork was altered when it was moved. When it was located in central Cardiff, it had a small step built into one side and, more importantly, there was an additional rectangular piece adjacent to the stone ‘mountain’, a piece that was made of bronze and that had the poetry, the englyns, inscribed on one side. (There’s a photo of the original artwork on the VADS website here.)   

I haven’t been able to find any explanation for why the artwork was altered. Nor have I discovered what happened to the ‘bronze element’. To my eye, though Cader Idris still has a significant visual impact in its new setting, the piece has been diminished and much of its meaning obscured by the loss of the 'outcrop' and its poetry, and that seems a great shame.

Under my feet : Mt Stuart Ship Repairing Yard marker

Under my feet today is a marker I walked over many times before, after deciding to pay more attention to what was ‘under my feet’, I stopped to read what it said and take photographs.

The plaque reads, in English and Welsh: ‘The granite setts show the line of the dockwall and the entrance to the former Mount Stuart Ship Repairing Yard : Mae’r sets ithfaen yn dangos llinell mur y doc a’r fynedfa i hen Iard Trwsio Llongau Mount Stuart’.

Cardiff had long been a port but it wasn’t until the early 19th century that it grew dramatically when the coal and iron trades increased rapidly to service the needs of the industrial revolution. Huge docks were constructed, starting with the Bute West Dock in 1839 and running right through to the Queen Alexandra Dock in 1907. And, though Cardiff never developed into an important shipbuilding location, it did become a major hub for ship repairing companies. 

In 1843, the Batchelor brothers, John and Sidney, moved from Newport to Cardiff to set up a ship repair yard. From their initial location on the banks of the River Taff, they moved six years later to the West Dock and then, several years after that, they opened the Mount Stuart Graving Dock. After the Batchelors’ operation went into liquidation in 1873, their business was eventually sold to Sir John Gunn, and the company became the Mount Stuart Ship Building, Graving Docks, and Engineering Company.

The 1882 sketch of the Mountstuart Dry Dock and Engineering Co’s Works, above left, is from William Turner’s publication The Port of Cardiff *. The photograph, above right, shows the three docks in use at a much later date, probably sometime in the mid 1900s (the image is not dated) **. Advertisements for the Mount Stuart company, dating from 1891-92 and 1895-6, can be seen on the Grace’s Guide to British Industrial History website.

 As you can see from the photograph above right, there are three docks, ranging in length from 430 feet (131 metres) to 543 feet (165 metres): Coflein, the online database for the National Monuments Record of Wales, gives the exact measurements, and details of how these changed over time.    

After the Cardiff Bay Barrage was completed in 2001 and the bay changed from a tidal harbour to a freshwater lake, the three Mount Stuart docks were flooded. Two remain empty but dock number 3 contains pontoons, used to moor small boats. The photographs below show dock number one as it currently looks.

* Image from Wikimedia Commons: Dated 1882. Accession no: British Library HMNTS 10369.cc.8. Image extracted from page 110 of The Port of Cardiff, by TURNER, William - Author of Custom Houses, an out-of-copyright book. Original held and digitised by the British Library. https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/11/TURNER%281882%29_MOUNTSTUART_Dry_Dock_and_Engineering_Co%C2%B4s._Work.jpg

** Image from Wikimedia Commons:  https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/4d/Mount_Stuart_dry_docks_%28451103725%29.jpg

 

Note re the term ‘graving’: I was not familiar with this word when I started researching the Mount Stuart plaque so was fascinated to learn its meaning. If you’re interested, there’s a short explanation on the Wikimapia entry for Mount Stuart Graving Dock 3.   

Cardiff art : Celtic Ring

My last blog, Under my feet: a key, was an introduction to today’s post on the public artwork that surrounds that ‘key’, which is both a name plate for the artwork and a waymarker to locate the beginning of the Taff Trail. 

The Cardiff Bay Development Corporation (CBDC) was established in 1987 to regenerate the docklands, which had by that time become a wasteland of disused docks and abandoned buildings. As part of their regeneration plan, the CBDC commissioned a series of public artworks to complement the many new building programmes: the Celtic Ring is one of those commissioned pieces.

It was created by sculptor Harvey Hood in 1993. Though born in Staffordshire and educated both in Birmingham (at the Birmingham College of Art) and London (at the Royal College of Art), Hood has spent much of his adult life in Wales. After completing his MA in London, he moved to the Cardiff College of Art, where he eventually progressed to Head of the Sculpture Department. Though now retired from university teaching, and from his 30 years as director of the Berlanderi Sculpture Workshop near Raglan, Hood continues to create amazing works of sculpture. He has exhibited both nationally and internationally, and his work is held in public and private collections around the world.

On Harvey Hood’s personal website there is an excellent blog post that documents, using many fascinating images, the process involved in the creation of the Celtic Ring. It moves from Hood’s sketching his initial ideas on the shores of the Bay before the Barrage was built, to the intriguing process of manufacturing the artwork, from clay mould to plaster cast to fibreglass to bronze.  

As you can see from my photos of the Ring’s interior, its surface is textured with many features relating to the maritime and industrial environment in which it is located. As well as references to local landmarks like the Norwegian Church, the former Hamadryad Hospital ship, and several of the local docks, there are seafaring instruments and tidal charts. It is a remarkable artwork that has stood well the test of time since its creation almost thirty years ago.

Cardiff art : 'Wife on the Ocean Wave'

It seems a shame that this charming sculpture is not better positioned. Sitting between two of the three former Mount Stuart graving docks (once dry, now water filled) in Cardiff Bay, it’s half-way down a dead-end space, where there’s no other reason to venture except for a closer view of the sculpture. And so I seldom see – in fact, have never seen – anyone inspecting the terrific trio in their tiny tub.

Punningly titled, Wife on the Ocean Wave, this wonderful piece was created by sculptor Graham Ibbeson in 1993. In the artist statement on his website, Ibbeson explains the inspiration behind all his artworks:

I have always tried to use humour as a tool to draw people into my work, to enable them to look at themselves through laughter. My work has changed over many years of moving forward through the creative landscape, however, my motivation remains the same. I am influenced by the absurdities of this life and the people who inhabit my world. The small, tiny things that make up the whole picture, hoping as always, that humour opens a path to the truth.

Ibbeson succeeds brilliantly, in this and in the 30-something other sculptures that improve and enhance public spaces throughout Britain. (Click on this link to see a gallery of his public sculptures on the author’s website.)  

Back to the boat, and its three delightful figures, a woman, a man and a young lad. The elderly gentleman looks gleeful, his eyes glinting, a  boyish look of genuine fun-loving joy lighting up his face.

The woman looks more hesitant – there’s no open-mouth smile on her. Perhaps she’s a reluctant passenger in the tub. Perhaps she can’t swim.

And the lad – his face is the hardest to read, as he reaches one hand through the wave. Is he concentrating on something he sees? On grabbing what he has seen? And what is his hand reaching for? Why, a cute little fish, of course. The perfect finishing touch to this charming piece.

Constructed originally in fibre glass, then cast in bronze, Wife on the Ocean Wave stands 152cm tall. Access to it is unrestricted so, next time you visit Cardiff Bay, do make the effort to see it. Opposite Techniquest, on the finger of land between graving docks two and three, under the looming menace of a huge old cargo crane, follow the meandering path for a heartwarming laugh.

Cardiff : Cambrian Buildings

I often forget that it always pays to look up!

I was meandering around the streets of Cardiff one day last week, gathering images for future blogs, and had almost reached Cardiff Bay station to catch the train home, when I felt the need to look skywards – and this is what I saw. 

This was only one of thirteen, each unique, that adorn a building of two names, the Cambrian Buildings which face on to Mount Stuart Square and, around the corner, the Cymric Buildings on West Bute Street. Built between 1907 and 1911 to the design of local architect Henry Budgen, this is a large imposing Grade II-listed structure of four main storeys, with a basement beneath and an attic level above. If you want to read a precise description of the architectural design, you can do so on the British Listed Buildings website, but for me it was all about the sculptural embellishments.

Running along the top of the fourth floor, they are a spectacular mix of the marine, with walruses, dolphin-type creatures, sea monsters and, rather incongruously, what looks like a lion, all underscored with nautical paraphernalia, like anchors, ropes, compasses, and chains. I’ve not uncovered any details of the sculptor, or sculptors, whose superb craftsmanship this is but they were obviously masters of their craft. The Cambrian Buildings have five of these Ionic-style capitals (shown above in order from the left of the building to the right, where it turns the corner into West Bute Street), and the Cymric Buildings have eight (shown below, again in order from left to right).

As well as these lavish sculptures at the top of the three-storey-high pilasters, there is a series of individual sea monsters on each side of the bases of the pilasters, between the windows of the first floor. These are described as dolphins in the official building description, though they’re not like any dolphins I’ve ever seen – perhaps the sculptors had only their imaginations to go on when carving these designs. The ‘dolphin’ closest to the neighbouring building has been rather squeezed into his position, but the others are more elegantly arranged. These are my particular favourites because of the amazing expressions on their faces.

On the ground floor, each of the two facades of these buildings has a central grand entrance, with the buildings’ names above.

And on each side of these entrances are more pilasters, these topped with sculptures of sailing ships and more nautical-themed details.

This area of Cardiff was immediately adjacent to the port, an extremely busy place in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and most of the commercial buildings in this area were built to house the major shipping and mining magnates, and the importing and exporting companies. The Cambrian Buildings were built to house the offices of the Cambrian Coal Combine, the most powerful mining group in south Wales’s Rhondda coal-mining valleys.

Now that I’ve realised what treasures there are amongst the historic buildings in the older parts of Cardiff, I’ll be looking up (and down and around) much more often.

Cardiff art: ‘People Like Us’

This is one of my favourite public artworks in Cardiff. 

It stands in one of the busiest areas of Cardiff Bay, amidst the cafes, restaurants and bars of Mermaid Quay, so I had to wait for a cold winter morning to get the photo, at right, with no people around.

The sculpture, called ‘People Like Us’ (‘Pobl Fel Ni’ in Welsh), is aptly named, as it certainly attracts people: they insinuate themselves amongst the figures for photos, lean next to the man as if engaging him in conversation, and children pat the dog as if it’s a favourite household pet.

‘People Like Us’ is a life-size bronze artwork by English sculptor John Clinch (1934 - 2001), whose intention was ‘to make something that somehow ‘gave a voice”’ to the diverse cultural and ethnic mix of people who have always lived and worked in the dockland area of Cardiff.

If the body structure of the male in this sculpture looks familiar, it’s because John Clinch also designed ‘From Pit To Port’, a sculpture celebrating Cardiff’s mining heritage that featured in a previous blog post here.

‘People Like Us’ is a much more personable sculpture I think, one that people can easily relate to, one that conveys a sense of rest and relaxation – the woman with her shoe off is a delightful touch.

I think John Clinch would be very pleased with how well his work is appreciated by those who visit Cardiff Bay.