by Alan Thompson.
NOSAS were partners in and major contributors to Scotland’s Rock Art Project (ScRAP) which ran for five years from January 2017 to December 2021. We enjoyed some very productive field work and learned a lot about prehistoric rock art (sometimes called cup and ring marked rocks) and also about how to run a community-based project.
This is not an attempt to analyse the rock art in our region or to provide a critique of what was achieved during ScRAP (for that it might be best to download the booklet produced at the end of the project – Prehistoric Rock Art in Scotland). It’s more personal, really a set of memories and reflections on what we did, and a few suggestions for the future. There is still more rock art to record in Northern Scotland and some of us would like to continue with that. Should we therefore establish a new, perhaps smaller project, making use of our experience with ScRAP?
A bit of history
Our interest in prehistoric rock art begins with the Ross-shire Rock Art project (RRAP) led by John Wombell in the 1990s and early 2000s (before my time with NOSAS). John and a NOSAS team set out to find and record the rock art in (broadly) Ross-shire. This involved research of the records, contact with local people, a good deal of ‘fossicking’, and experiments with various methods of recording. The output was mostly on paper, i.e. forms filled in and photos printed. Many finds were notified to the Highland HER.
When I first joined NOSAS and got interested in rock art I spent time with John and looked at his RRAP records. In every case John told me a story about his visit; the people he met, the difficulties he encountered, and sometimes things absolutely nothing to do with rock art which he encountered on that day.
Moving into the 2010s it became possible for amateurs to record panels using photogrammetry, and the idea of bringing the records all together in one database also became attractive. NOSAS at that time had recently become a SCIO (Scottish Charitable Incorporated Organisation) with the idea of raising funding for and undertaking larger projects, and a new RRAP was one of the projects under serious consideration.
By coincidence we were contacted by Dr Tertia Barnett of Edinburgh University who was putting together a plan for an all-Scotland rock art project, which would not only improve the public record but also provide consistent information for academic research. Tertia had been involved with the Northumberland and Durham Rock Art Project (NADRAP) and had much relevant experience. The fieldwork was to be undertaken by community groups. It was attractive to NOSAS to join as a partner, and Tertia went ahead with Historic Environment Scotland (HES) as the host organisation and raised funding from the Arts and Humanities Research Council (AHRC) for the five-year project.
In the early days NOSAS piloted the field work and data recording, and as the project progressed we became one of a number of contributing community groups. Later on, Covid intervened, somewhat limiting our scope for fieldwork. There were delays in transferring the data to Canmore and, at the time of writing, the records on Canmore are not as we wanted them to be.
What is a rock art project really about?
I started off seeing this as a practical data collection project, which it was. I never expected that I (or anyone else) would discover the ‘secret’ of rock art, and of course I didn’t.
So was it worth the effort, and what did I (and others) get from it?
In the early phase we went out in bigger groups to places where we knew there were enough panels to use for group training, including Druim Mor, Clava Cairns, and Strathrusdale. We had some great days – taking on such a task as a group is good to bring people together.
As we built up experience we tended to visit in smaller groups (2 – 5 people; generally one car load) which matched the task to be done, and also made it easier to choose a good day weather-wise and to turn up unannounced. We fell into a pattern of recording and as we visited more sites we began to draw some conclusions about the process, for example as we carefully counted the cups we quickly realised that maybe that was not as precise a task as it may seem. We measured the dimensions of the panel, and sketched and wrote notes on the panel itself and on its location. We took photographs of the panel and of its immediate location, and we took sets of photographs to use to produce 3D models (photogrammetry). Gradually we learned about what works (and what doesn’t) with photogrammetry.
A consequence of all of this for me was that I visited a lot of panels and saw a lot of rock art. And now, when 18 months has passed since the end of the project, what do I remember about these panels? Strangely I can easily picture most of them and I think I could find them again, but it’s what happened while I was there that most lives on in my mind. Here are a few which stand out for me.
1. Moniack Castle (Canmore ID 12706)
This panel is drawn and clearly described by Wiliam Jolly (PSAS vol 16 1882) but according to Canmore was not found during visits in 1964 or in 1979. We visited in 2020. The owners of the castle were well aware that the panel should be in the rockery and had searched for it without success. Our search, which included probing in the lawn near to the rockery, led us to discover and dig up (with permission) the panel which was face down under the turf. It was a very exciting moment, and the owners were delighted. So were we all, as you can see from the photo!
2. Clava Cairns (part of Canmore ID 14279)
This famous site is much visited by tourists. It’s on the local tour circuit, and has the ‘bonus’ of an association with the popular Outlander series. We used the site for some of our early training and I have visited it a number of times. What makes it special is the number of cup marked stones built into the cairns, and in particular the ‘hidden’ ones which are hard to see, but can be felt between the stones in the SW cairn.
My best memory is of the frustration of trying to record the panels amongst a group of French visitors, clearly very excited by the Outlander connection and assuming quite wrongly that our attempts to record the panels were something to do with that. Trying to explain what we were doing was a challenge not helped by the presence of another group who sat quietly on the ground in a circle, clearly wishing to experience the ambiance of the site. Despite the number of visitors, the site does indeed have a certain quality to it, but perhaps best experienced quietly early or late in the day.
3. Milton of Clava (in Inverness Museum store at Newtonmore) Canmore ID 14260
Many panels have been moved, some just relocated or re-used and others are now in rockeries and in museums. The loss of their original context makes them often feel rather sterile, even when attractively lighted and displayed. One unusual panel is stored (not on display) in Newtonmore in the large building next to the Highland Folk Museum. It has cup marks on both sides.
We now know that the panel was found in a pigsty near Milton of Clava by Wiliam Jolly (PSAS vol 16 1882) who recorded it complete with a good sketch of both sides. After that its location was unknown until we examined the panels held by Inverness Museum. It’s very clearly the same panel and must have been given to the museum, possibly by William Jolly himself, and certainly prior to 1920.
The curator and other staff at Newtonmore were very kind to us and extremely helpful in recording the panel. Between them (including a man who interrupted his grass cutting to lend a hand) they lifted and turned it so that we could get photos from all directions, from which an ‘all round’ 3D model was built. It was great to match the panel in the museum with the 1882 record, and to be able to produce such a good model.
4. Ardoch (Canmore ID 13787)
Unusually, I visited Ardoch on my own. It’s in a quiet, out of the way, location in an open sloping grassy field more or less flush with the ground. The panel was covered with moss and grass, but I found it without difficulty and carefully cleaned the surface. The panel is of a fine sandstone and has smooth cups of various sizes which along with curving grooves cover the whole surface.
Looking at the agricultural vehicle tracks in the grass I was immediately concerned about possible damage to the panel, and I recorded that as a major risk. My original visit was in 2018 and when I revisited in 2021 I was shocked to see that the panel had been damaged. It was upsetting to think that it had been there undamaged for several thousand years and that I was probably the last person to see it in that state. At least we have a good record of it before the damage. I have thought a lot about this. It remains at risk of further damage. In order to avoid more accidental damage, it would be necessary to either (i) move it to say a museum, but that would destroy its important context in the landscape, or (ii) build a fence around it which would again impair any appreciation of it in the landscape. I think that (ii) would be the best option to preserve this wonderful panel in its original context.
So what did I get from all these visits? A set of memories of the visits, of the people I met, and a feeling that there is today something special about these locations.
What makes rock art special?
The rock art in our area is predominantly groups of simple cups, sometimes with grooves and other motifs, and with occasional rings. Compared with the impressive panels at Kilmartin they are relatively simple and less visually appealing. Some may even be natural – with single cups it can be a matter of judgement.
We put a great deal of effort into the ‘scientific’ recording of the panels – locations, dimensions, rock type, motifs, layout, place in the landscape, etc, which I think is important and valuable. At least we now know what we have. These records can be analysed, and comparisons made across Scotland, but I’m not convinced that helps us very much with understanding the significance of the panels.
I’m left with a strong feeling that location is important. We try to match up what we have today (being very wary of survival bias) with ideas and theories about location. Are they on routeways? Are they intervisible? Are they always on South facing slopes? Are they near the confluence of rivers? Why are they in groups? Again, any sort of answer is elusive.
Perhaps we should not try to work out why the panels are in a particular location, but to turn the question round and suggest that today, for us, the locations are special because the rock art is there. It’s always good to revisit the locations, to talk to the people I meet, and to tell my stories about them, just as John Wombell did when I first got interested.
What next?
I would be happy to revisit any of the panels in the area, and as I noted at the start there are panels still to visit and record. There is also the issue of whether we should press for scheduling of some of the better panels in the area.
We could therefore set up a new NOSAS Rock Art Project, which would need a small core group of interested members to progress it, building on our experience with ScRAP. Our objective would be to get out and do interesting field visits and recording, and to make all our work freely available for non-commercial purposes to anyone who is interested.
It makes practical sense to use the same approach to recording that we used under ScRAP, and we’d need to agree in outline which panels or areas we want to visit or revisit.
To ensure that our records would be made freely available we would need to retain copyright to all our images and data. We would put these into the public domain using the ‘creative commons’ licensing so that they can be used freely by anyone for non-commercial purposes, the only stipulation being that attribution is given to the creator.
We would need to set up a simple database to gather, manage and disseminate our data. That would also facilitate transfer of our data to the relevant HER(s) and Canmore.
Is anyone interested?
NOSAS Archaeology Blog 