The Wind’s Whisper: Jasleen Kaur’s Superstructure and Glasgow’s Layered Identity
There’s something profoundly poetic about art that moves with the wind. Jasleen Kaur’s Superstructure, unveiled along the River Clyde as part of Glasgow’s 2026 Festival, is more than just a series of weathervane-like sculptures—it’s a conversation starter, a provocateur, and a mirror held up to the city’s complex soul. Personally, I think what makes this work particularly fascinating is its ability to be both static and dynamic, rooted in history yet constantly shifting with the elements. It’s as if the artist is saying, Glasgow, you’re not just one thing—you’re a mosaic of past, present, and future, and here’s a way to see it.
A River of Stories, A City of Layers
The Clyde isn’t just a river; it’s a lifeline, a witness to Glasgow’s rise as a global trading hub, its entanglement with empire, and its struggles with deindustrialization. Kaur’s sculptures, strategically placed along the riverbank, act as markers of this layered history. Each one carries a word or phrase that spins in the wind, pointing to different parts of the city. What many people don’t realize is that this isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s about re-mapping Glasgow. Kaur, drawing on her own roots in Govan and her practice interrogating power and migration, is inviting us to see the city not just as it is, but as it has been and could be.
One thing that immediately stands out is the collaboration behind this work. Kaur teamed up with architect Jude Barber and writer Louise Welsh, whose podcast Who Owns the Clyde explores the river’s history of ownership and empire. This isn’t just an artist working in isolation—it’s a collective effort to unearth and reinterpret Glasgow’s narrative. If you take a step back and think about it, this is what public art should do: not just decorate, but educate, challenge, and connect.
The Commonwealth’s Shadow and Glasgow’s Future
The timing of Superstructure is no coincidence. With the Commonwealth Games in full swing, Glasgow is under the global spotlight. But Kaur’s work isn’t here to celebrate uncritically. The sculptures’ rotating texts—words like judiciary, taxation, and defence—are a subtle yet powerful reminder of the Commonwealth’s colonial legacy. What this really suggests is that Glasgow’s identity is inextricably tied to systems of power that still shape it today.
From my perspective, this is where the work becomes truly radical. It’s not just about the past; it’s about how that past informs the present and future. The sculptures will remain in the city permanently, a legacy of the 2026 Festival. This raises a deeper question: Can art help us reimagine our cities? Can it prompt us to confront uncomfortable truths while also inspiring hope? I believe it can, and Superstructure is a prime example.
Art as Everyday Encounter
What makes Superstructure so compelling is its accessibility. These aren’t sculptures tucked away in a gallery—they’re part of the city’s fabric, encountered casually by commuters, tourists, and locals alike. Phil Batty, CEO of Glasgow 2026, calls it “world-class art in the everyday,” and he’s right. But what’s often overlooked is how this everyday encounter can spark profound reflection. As the texts shift with the wind, so too do their meanings, aligning with different buildings and spaces in ways both intentional and serendipitous.
A detail that I find especially interesting is Kaur’s reference to geographer Doreen Massey’s idea that “maps are not the only way to depict a place.” Superstructure is exactly that—an alternative map, one that charts not just physical spaces but emotional, historical, and political landscapes. It’s a reminder that cities are not static; they’re living, breathing entities shaped by the people and forces that move through them.
The Legacy of a Turner Prize Winner
Jasleen Kaur’s career has been on an upward trajectory since winning the Turner Prize in 2024, but Superstructure feels like a homecoming. Born in Glasgow, with deep ties to the Clyde, she brings a unique insider-outsider perspective to this work. Her ability to weave personal history with broader social critique is what sets her apart. In my opinion, this is what makes Superstructure more than just a public art commission—it’s a love letter to Glasgow, warts and all.
What this work really suggests is that art can be both local and universal. It speaks to Glasgow’s specific history, but its themes—empire, migration, identity—resonate globally. As the sculptures are relocated to new permanent homes after the festival, they’ll continue to evolve, much like the city itself.
Final Thoughts: A City in Flux
If there’s one takeaway from Superstructure, it’s this: Glasgow is a city in flux, constantly negotiating its past and future. Kaur’s sculptures are more than just art—they’re catalysts for conversation, inviting us to see the familiar in new ways. Personally, I think this is the mark of great public art: it doesn’t just exist in the world; it engages with it, challenges it, and leaves a lasting imprint.
As I reflect on Superstructure, I’m reminded of the wind’s whisper—constant, unpredictable, and full of stories. Kaur has captured that whisper in metal and text, creating a work that is as much about Glasgow as it is about us, the viewers. What will we hear when we listen?
