People Like You

Like Edward Scissor Hands’ agricultural carvings, Tony Hillier’s metal sculptures sugar coat the property’s green, green grass.

The last time I visited Tony he was busy in his garage; goggles down, apron on, blowtorch at the ready.

Born in Birmingham, Tony moved to Cambridge to study. He ended up sticking around and worked as a lecturer of physiology, a job which he looks back at with fondness.

Sculptures on the Histon Road

“I love teaching. 500 intelligent, bright, lively fascinating students would come through each year. It was just a wonderful job.”

Crash, bang, walloping

“It’s the same thing with the kids who come here actually. Watching them discover things is just great. They discover how well they can climb – and how much noise they can make.”

Both are strongly encouraged. One family that visited the sculptures were handed metal rods to investigate the sounds they could make on a giraffe’s belly or a vulture’s foot. They had appeared from one of the Citi7 buses that flash past every now again, ferrying interested looking faces to and from the city.

That’s part of the art Tony tells me. Where’s the fun for a child of just being able to look? It’s true. While just looking at Tony’s characters is a joy in itself the kids seem even more delighted to know that they can crash, bang and wallop away to their hearts content. The last time I checked they’re not too fond of that down at the Fitzwilliam.

Tony works on a creation

But the creatures that peer onto the Histon Road are undoubtedly pieces of art. There’s something fairy-tale-like about the child being lifted into the air by a bird, or the boy peeping into the distance with his grandfather.

Cartoons

The curves and exaggerations of the dogs, owls, pigs, lions, tigers, vultures and giraffes scattered across the lawn could be lifted from any contemporary cartoon, yet they are at the same time flooded with reality – the giraffe stands at about 22 feet, only a few feet taller than a genuine male specimen.

“The first thing I ever remember doing was painting, and it’s the passion of my life, along with cycling - and eating and drinking.”

“Some people come along and they clearly have an artistic interest. You can tell this straight away because when they look at it they move around. If you’re intrigued then you move.”

It turns out some people get it, some don’t, but you don’t need a trained artistic eye to understand the important aspects.

Tony's giraffe

“There was this one kid, he was only about five, but he was asked, ‘Do you like the rusty ones or the shiny ones?’ ‘It doesn’t matter, it’s the shape that counts,’ he said.”

Tony smiles as he closes his sentence, comforted by the knowledge that somebody had ‘got it’.

Doing it for nothing

The first piece started off as a cat, which then became a tiger and eventually evolved into a lion. He stands proudly at the front of the lawn, guardian of his master’s creations.

As I spoke to him Tony was working on a small dog to accompany the large dog in the centre of his garden. It is being made to wrap around a tree in the playground of Histon and Impington Junior School and will join the pig that Tony had already contributed a while back.

Tony isn’t paid for any of it.

“If somebody came along and said we’ll take the whole lot off you and stick them in a public place somewhere, then they could have them for nothing.”

There are two reasons why this is a good idea. Firstly, if more people get to see the sculptures then the world would be a better place. Secondly, if Tony knocks out anymore sculptures he thinks he might have to start putting them on the roof.