The Antony Gormleys

On our many trips down to Margate to view flats, we always got the first non-rush hour train from St Pancras in the morning, quite often alongside tourists doing a day trip from London.

One time Husb and I were sat a few seats down from a group of very posh older women who had taken over a bank of four with a table and were very cultured, thank you, very much.

They spent the journey talking about how brilliant it was to volunteer their time at various museums, what was going on at various new exhibitions here there and everywhere. They were sort of annoying me but I think that’s because I was envious of their lives, they didn’t work, they just went to exhibitions, volunteered places, and it seems, went for day trips to Margate.

Will my generation be afforded such a lovely retirement? The less we think about that the better…

There was one of them, as there always is, who dominated the conversation, telling everyone about how busy she’d been and how wonderful everything she’d seen was. We couldn’t help but overhear that they were doing a walk from Margate to Broadstairs, which is a lovely 5 mile amble around the absolute tip of the Kent coast, taking in some incredible bays with beaches and white chalk cliffs. I definitely recommend it, but make sure you take snacks and get the train back.

The women got onto the subject of the Turner Contemporary which is the art gallery here, right on the harbour. The loudest of the women then said how she hadn’t been to Margate in so long and she was “SO looking forward to seeing the Antony Gormleys” 

If you know, you know. After we got off the train and the walkers shot off on their walk to beat the rainclouds that were forming, I turned to the Husb and said, deliciously, “did you hear it? She said the Antony Gormleys” Husb nodded and laughed, “THERE’S ONLY ONE!” 

It was petty and smug and stupid, but it made us laugh and feel like more than just daytrippers.

here he is all by himself

Antony Gormley: Another Time is one of the 100 solid cast iron figures that Gormley created and installed in places all over the UK. The figures are always facing out to sea and are submerged by the tides during the course of the day. There are several on permanently installed Crosby Beach in Liverpool, whereas here in Margate we only have one. 

Now we are locals here, my smugness around the statue continues. When walking home from town on the beachside we walk past the Turner Contemporary and Antony (as we call him) and have often witnessed a group of people standing around looking a bit confused wondering where the statue is as it’s high tide and he is totally submerged. There’s a yellow buoy that floats out at the furthest edge of where the concrete structure that he stands on, but that’s the only sign that he’s down there at all during high tide. That and the sign and picture they’ve put on the railings. It does cross my mind to stop and tell these people that the tide will be in for a while and they’ll probably not see the statue, but who am I to ruin their day?

You can see above how completely he disappears under the water

Well a few weeks ago, we finally did it. At low tide we clambered out and walked up to Antony to see him face to face. We were sure to do it when it was quiet and lowest of low tide as we didn’t want to ruin people’s pictures or get swept away into the north sea, but on the overcast early evening on a Tuesday after a Bank Holiday Monday there was no one hanging about. As we approached, worrying about slipping on seaweed, it became much clearer just how tall he was, also how covered in barnacles, sea life, and rust. As we saw him from the front for the first time we noticed that he, erm, had his bits out and also that looking at his face covered in mottled white-green chalky sludge and rust, he looked unsettling like a Dr Who Villain. We were both a bit freaked out and Husb joked, “What if he MOVED?!”

He blends in well down here at low tide

I took some pictures including a selfie (ofc!) and we walked back down to the beach. I do have to say that the Turner Contemporary do NOT recommend any body walks out to the statue as it can be dangerous, slippery, and wet. They also don’t want people hurting themselves OR the artwork, so it is best to enjoy it from the harbour wall or from the beach at low tide. We were a bit naughty doing this but we knew it was low tide and the walk out wasn’t too slippery.

right before he told us off for taking a selfie without asking for his permission

The sculpture is beautiful within the seascape. It has made me really consider the tides. Standing next to him I got a real sense of how high the water would be if the tide was in, I would be entirely underwater. You understand that when you’re standing on the harbour wall looking out, but being down at the beach in low tide you sort of forget how big a change happens twice a day.

He is a sort of tide clock for us. When we walk home we always guess how covered up he’ll be by the waves, up to his calves, waist, nips, neck or top of his head! It’s not always clear until you see him and I don’t yet have the tide times memorised (I have an app for it though!)  

Walking home one day when he was up to his waist in sea, a group of teenagers got out of their car and walked over, one was a little panicked: 

“Oh my gawd there’s a man standing out there in the water” 

“It’s not real it’s a statue” 

“No it’s NOT it’s a REAL MAN…”

“it’s a statue you idiot” 

“…Yeah I KNOW I was just joking…” 

I think we could all tell that he was not joking, its just as he got closer he could tell it wasn’t a real person. That moment of uncanniness is all wrapped up in the statue though, that’s why I enjoy it. I’m sure this sort of uncanny panic people get from seeing his work gives old Sir Antony a good laugh as well. 

Six foot Six Husband here for scale

I hope the posh ladies enjoyed a fleeting moment of seeing him (the tide was out at that time!) and I wonder if the loudest of them asked where the others were or if she remembered that here in good old Margate, we only have one.