Winter makes a bridge between one year and another and, in this case, one century and the next.- Andy Goldsworthy
Three or four stones in one firing will all react differently. I try to achieve a balance between those that haven't progressed enough and those about to go too far.
The stones tear like flesh, rather than breaking. Although what happens is violent, it is a violence that is in stone. A tear is more unnerving than a break.
The relationship between the public and the artist is complex and difficult to explain. There is a fine line between using this critical energy creatively and pandering to it.
The reason why the stone is red is its iron content, which is also why our blood is red.
The hardened mass of liquid stones had much stronger qualities than those which had simply torn. The skin remained a recognisable part of the molten stone.
The first stone was just tried in the spirit of experimentation. The opening of the stone was far more interesting than the drawing that I had done on it.
The first snowball I froze was put in my mother's deep freeze when I was in my early 20s.
The early firings contained many stones.
The difference between a theatre with and without an audience is enormous. There is a palpable, critical energy created by the presence of the audience.
Stones are checked every so often to see if any have split or at worst exploded. An explosion can leave debris in the elements so the firing has to be abandoned.
Some of the snowballs have a kind of animal energy. Not just because of the materials inside them, but in the way that they appear caged, captured.
Snow provokes responses that reach right back to childhood.
Photography is a way of putting distance between myself and the work which sometimes helps me to see more clearly what it is that I have made.
People do not realise that many of my works are done in urban places. I was brought up on the edge of Leeds, five miles from the city centre-on one side were fields and on the other, the city.
