One of my earliest memories is as a 4 year old proudly presenting my still-sleeping father with a freshly disassembled clockwork motor from his own beloved childhood Meccano set. By my calculation he’d have been 28 then. We were living in the house I found on google maps, if you recall. I was quite proud of myself, using a screwdriver and all at such a tender age. Not quite old enough to own a rifle though. I recall my dad seemed a little less impressed with the collection of screws, springs and various odds and sods that I’d found cunningly hiding within the motor’s two steel plates.
I was totally mortified when he declared that putting it all back together was beyond his abilities. I think it was then that I learnt that my dad was mortal, and not the superhero we’d all like our parents to be. In a similar vein, a colleague many years ago surprised a fellow worker who had just deftly executed a wasp on his keyboard by challenging him to put it back together. To this day I’m not sure whether his religious beliefs had been assaulted or he was being a smart arse engineer.
Fast forward a few decades, and it seems that Todd McLellan does the same thing for a living. Well – for art anyway. Shades of Ursus Wehrli, I thought. What do you think, dear reader?