Adrian Gray ~ Stonebalancing Art & Photography

Article from The Independent, May 2010

On The Road: The marvels of modern rock art on Dorset's Jurassic Coast

I love a good pebble. Smooth to the touch and totally individual. They've become synonymous with calm: used in Zen gardens, wallpaper on iPhones and by designers on tablemats to bring the outside in. In Lyme Regis, there's a whole beach of them. And on this beach I found Adrian Gray (pictured above) engrossed in the fine art of stone balancing. Not just pebbles in this case, but huge, back-wrenching stones that he somehow rests on one another at incredible angles. It really is a case of "how does he do that?". Is it sticky tape, magic or spiritualism? Well none of these. As Adrian says: "It's a paradox of fragility and solidity. These are really heavy stones, balanced in a very, very fragile way. It's the illusionary quality that makes it so magical. Your brain is telling you that's not possible, while your eyes say it is."

Adrian got his inspiration for stone balancing from exploring The Undercliff, part of Dorset's "Jurassic Coast". He began experimenting with anthropomorphic shapes out of the stones he found which evolved into stone balancing.

"Parents seem to focus on the sense of wonder," he says, "while children are much more pragmatic about how the balancing works. We went to Charmouth Primary School, which is right on the beach, to do a workshop and even the more hyperactive kids were able to concentrate on the task of balancing stones."

I realise that while I'm spellbound, my kids are matter-of-fact about it all. They haven't been sullied by what's just not possible in this world.

Travel has shown them many impossibles already, from upside-down jellyfish in the Cayman Islands to a twinkling Christmas tree in the 30C heat of Mauritius in December. Which is, of course, why travelling is such a different experience for a child. The most ordinary things that an adult would pass by, a child marvels at, while they often accept the bizarre. And Britain can be just as intoxicating and exotic to a child as a far-flung shore. The pebbles are as wondrous in Lyme Regis (not least for their hidden fossils) as anywhere on the planet.

By Jane Anderson in Lyme Regis, Dorset

Article from Dorset County magazine: Dorset, Spring 2010

For Lyme Regis artist Adrian Gray the Jurassic coast provides both the inspiration and the materials for his stone balancing sculptures

There was never a ‘eureka’ moment; as with many things, my stone balancing art evolved and developed over the years and is still changing and progressing as I have new ideas and envisage different stone balancing images and themes.

What is fundamental about the sculptures is their simplicity – two stones, sometimes more, balanced together to create a seemingly impossible composition. This improbable equipoise creates a sense of wonder in the onlooker and gives the sculpture a discernable, magical ‘presence’. What is constantly surprising is the amazed response of the audience when I create a new sculpture. During the summer months and when the weather is fair, I show my art on the town beach in Lyme Regis where I live. I use what I call my ‘travel kit’– two large base stones and a selection of stones to balance on them. Throughout the day I will balance different stones to create what I call a paradox of fragility and solidity in the sculpture. People are astonished by what they see: disbelief is their first reaction, the incredulity on their faces is a picture.

Then of course I get the questions. How do I do it? Is it glue? Blu-Tack? Steel rods? Magnets? Even velcro? But I always look forward to the more outlandish suggestions, such as holograms, magic and illusion. Even when within a few feet, people still cannot believe their own eyes, it is this quiddity of the sculpture that is so fascinating.

I’m originally from Berkshire, and moved to Dorset ten years ago, but in my twenties and thirties I worked overseas as a leader on adventure holidays and expeditions in the mountains, jungles and deserts of Asia and Africa. To supplement my income I took travel photographs that in some way led me to stone balancing. I loved to take pictures of the natural world, especially the obscure and puzzling aspect of nature, so to create my own mysterious sculptures is a continuation of that interest.

I had a limited art education – an ‘O’ Level at school and then a year at college and over the years I worked with wood and stone – but it was the fascinating geology and pure majesty of the coast here in Dorset that prodded me to create something unique. I believe that stone balancing sculptures are a new niche art form. It’s great that in the 21st century there is still something that is baffling, which challenges our perception and, most of all, gives so much pleasure.

My stone balancing art has led me in a new and unexplored direction including most recently being filmed for the BBC Coast series. This year I plan to take my stone balancing to London to see if the art establishment will be as wowed by it as people are in the West Country.
I live in a converted summerhouse built into the side of the cliff overlooking Lyme Bay. It has no mains electricity so I have installed a solar panel for a 12-volt system, but mostly I use lots of vegetable wax candles which give off a nice light and are odourless. I have mains water and a gas boiler to heat it, plus a wood burner to keep the place cosy. Even though I live in a landslip area, I don’t worry. Life is a balancing act anyway, mostly up or down; it’s a relief when we find ourselves on the level.

When I moved to Dorset the quirky, quaintness of Lyme Regis and the stunning surrounding coastline suited my lifestyle and provided inspiration for my creativity. The Jurassic coast with its folded and crumbling rocks, fossils and flints, lias and limestone is the perfect location for my photo shoots. I know my patch of coast very well and recognise individual stones rom previous outings. I look forward to the storms that batter the coast as they reshuffle the deck and give me a whole new palette of rocks to work with.

I like to wander the isolated coves, searching for stones that will lend themselves to the ideas I have for new sculptures. The process of balancing the stones requires great focus and has a meditative quality, this stimulates a Zen-like ambience in the audience and people have told me they become spiritually involved.

The sculptures are, of course, transient – the weather or waves will knock them over. Occasionally I used to leave them standing for people to admire, but after a close shave for a Yorkshire terrier I now dismantle them, so the only evidence of their existence is in the photographs.

The beaches around Lyme have an unusual selection of stones, some containing calcite crystals and sometimes large fossils, usually ammonites. I like the idea of reanimating the fossilised creatures by including them in a sculpture that seems ‘alive’. I strive for the smallest point of contact between the stone surfaces. This magnifies the vulnerability of the balance whilst still maintaining a state of equilibrium. It’s this anomaly that makes the sculptures and the photographs of them both perplexing and beautiful.

Article from Muse magazine, summer 2008

Born in Bristol and having spent a great deal of time working overseas I moved to Lyme Regis eight years ago. I needed to convalesce from a tropical illness picked up in Madagascar and was at a stage where I needed to put down some roots.

I had led expeditions all over the world for many years and earnt a bit extra from my travel photography. Settling in Lyme Regis gave me the chance to explore and capture on film the great natural history of the area.

For as long as I can remember I have loved stone. I studied geology and first stumbled over a Dorset cliff on a school field trip to Durdle Door and Lulworth Cove. My fascination with rocks continued and I had plenty of opportunities to study and photograph them working in the Himalayas and on the many volcanic islands of the Pacific Rim.

I recovered from my illness, but was left with heightened sensitivity to light, sound, chemicals and electrical waves. It proved too uncomfortable to remain living in my house so I bought a yurt, where I lived in a friend’s garden. It was during these dark times that I refined my stone balancing skill and produced some of my best work.

That was a very difficult period for me, but gradually my sensitivity to light and sound diminished and eventually I moved into an old stone folly built into the cliff in woodland overlooking Lyme Bay, that had no electricity and ran on gas. Now that I had control over my environment I could concentrate on my art.

I started stone balancing at least 10 years ago, but it was when I needed to distance myself from the modern world and spent solitary time balancing on different beaches that I understood the therapeutic and meditative aspects of stone balancing. I originally constructed anthropomorphic figures to photograph in various poses. It was whilst re-positioning a head to give a figure a sullen demeanour by trying to get the “chin” as close to the “chest” as possible that I realised I had created something unique. Because of the shape of the rock, the angle of the balance and the amazing power of friction, I had formed a balance that seemed to defy nature and the laws of gravity – basically it looked impossible. I loved it.

I became obsessed with creating stone balancing installations, the more outrageous the balance the better. I experimented with differed types of rocks and spent weeks looking for the perfect shapes. I did this alone, beneath the undercliff, in all seasons. Setting up my stones in the early morning to take advantage of the stillness of dawn to take my photographs.

My beach sculptures have gone. A breath of wind, a splash of rain, an eager wave, all can return my stones from whence they came. Their transitory nature makes a unique moment to be enjoyed live or later on film. It is difficult to explain just how beautiful and mesmerizing a stone balancing sculpture can be. The massive weight of the rocks, the tiniest point of contact, the delicious illusion of improbability and the ridiculous fragility combine to evoke a sense of wonder and magic.

Installation Art

When I started creating stone balancing sculptures on the beach nearer Lyme Regis they were admired by locals and tourists and this gave me the impetus to take my art to a larger audience. I planned and staged a guerrilla art installation at the Frieze. I set up on a grassy knoll next to the path between the main marquee and the sculpture garden in Regents Park. I took a selection of top stones and one foundation stone and started balancing. A large crowd quickly gathered and from initially being puzzled they became transfixed. Some thought it was an exercise in futility. The longer the balance took the greater the anticipation and expectation and the more intense the atmosphere. After this first Frieze I had interest from a varied mix of people including gallery owners, architects, event organisers and psychiatrists! After my last Frieze I had two invitations to take art overseas – to Perth in Australia and Toronto in Canada. Unfortunately I do not have the gift of time and had to decline.

Performance Art

The art of stone balancing is true performance art, it stimulates the audience creating a zen – like ambience, people naturally fall silent and some say they become spiritually involved! And when the sculpture is complete, even though they have watched me create it, they still have their doubts. Some want to believe it trickery rather than just “natures glue”.

I returned to the Frieze last year and set up three different sculptures, changing them regularly throughout the show. The organisers let me be, realising they were benefiting from a new art form which was popular with their guests. This year I hope to be invited back officially. I am part of the local Artsfest in Lyme Regis, have performed at the Henley Festival and Glastonbury and have been invited back again this year.

Many people have asked to buy my sculptures and there is the possibility of pinning them in position to create a permanent sculpture. To date I have remained a purest, but I have been working on a few ideas to sell them as a balanced installation. For me equipoise rules.

Meanwhile to earn a living I work as a stonemason and roofer. I make bespoke bird tables, chests and mail boxes out of driftwood. I design itineraries for Pioneer Expeditions and throughout the summer I will be on the beach at Lyme Regis balancing stones and selling my photos’.

stonebalancing .com

Independent review - Glastonbury 2007

At Glastonbury last weekend I came across something extraordinary. Art that moved me, astonished me and made me think. Now call me a philistine, but the big players in the contemporary art world - barring a few glorious exceptions, for me at least, fail to do any of the above. But there in Avalon, in the mud and the glory, Adrian Gray the stone balancer was creating transitory sculptures that transfixed me and the thousands of festival go-ers.

Stone Balancing is pretty much what it says on the tin - balancing of large stones. But that balancing is actually pretty magical. The stones are made to sit, perched at vertiginous angles, meeting only at the tiniest point of contact. Until you see Gray balance the stones, you are merely struck by the beautiful shapes and interactions of the stones, assuming, given apparent impossibility of the structures, they are constructed with dowels and pegs and glue. then he simply lifts one stone off and then one's sense of reality goes a bit peculiar [nope not tripping at this point, honest] By locating an exact point of gravitational equilibrium, the two stones - well the only word to describe it is- float. It's impossible, gravity-defying, against all logic. it works. in seemingly impossible positions. The effect plays tricks with the mind and you question the laws of nature.

As he balanced the stones, [a process of minute adjustment and testing that can take anything from four minutes to four hour apparently], the audience was mesmerised. He became focused and still, shifting the massive weight millimetres at a time, until he found the centre of gravity and stepped back. The results were things of power, they stood there rock steady, massive and heavy yet fragile and delicate; solid, and weightless. Just stones, nothing added, nothing taken away.

I was spellbound. Gray continued to make and dissemble these extraordinary sculptures into the night under the eerie light of oil lamps. To see rocks of up to 40, 50 or even 60 kilos balanced on the sloping edge of another connecting at the tiniest point and forming an exquisite whole was captivating. It was hard to believe that a thing of such beauty and improbability was held in place by, as Gray said, 'just nature's glue'. The combined forces of gravity and friction provided the physics, but it was the almost Zen-like performance, clever positioning and strangely spiritual combination of weirdly shaped stones that wowed the onlookers. Gray was justly proud of his creations.

The temptation is to preserve them - to make them permanent. But by definition, every balance is a unique piece, a unique moment. After a time, the stones come apart; the performance and the piece, over. He has photographed some of the sculptures in in fine colour and black and white photos, mostly taken on the coast near his home in Lyme Regis, but that is it.

It was a strange and beautiful experience, to watch something being made that is after all simply nature at work.But it was more - performance art, sculpture and photography, too. I call that good value - for once, art that does exactly what it says on the tin. And more.