Gateshead’s world-famous Angel of the North will celebrate its 25th birthday today (Wednesday, February 15). The Northern Echo's Chris Lloyd was there at the official unveiling - here we reproduce the article he wrote to make the event in 1998.

SIX miles south, as that other beautifully pointless object - the Penshaw Monument - drops out of sight in the east, the A1 sweeps round to the left to present a panoramic view of Tyneside.

At first, the Gateshead towerblocks sparkling in the sun catch the eye scanning the horizon. But there, just beneath them, is the unmistakable figure of the Angel of the North, its wings spread wide like a Band Aid stitching together a slash in the grey clouds behind.

It is only a brief glimpse. The A1 falls towards Chester-le-Street and the Angel disappears. On the radio, the debate rages: Radio 5 Live has the sound of opposition councillors back-tracking furiously while on Radio Cleveland Paul Frost is trying to whistle up opinionated callers.

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When the motorways split, the traffic turning onto the Western Bypass slows to a crawl. Drivers crane their necks and then, the corner turned, it is suddenly before them: a giant, ugly steel construction with arms out-stretched, disfiguring the landscape.

No, sorry, that's an electricity pylon - one of many that march up the Team Valley like an invading alien army.

About half the height of the pylon, and fitting far less obtrusively into the countryside, is the Angel of the North. It is low on the skyline; its big bald head rising over the hillside, its rusty wings looking like a row of Harvest Brown sheds on the green of the far side of the valley.

The Northern Echo: Chairman of the Arts Council Gerry Robinson and sculptor Anthony Gormley toast the Angel shortly after is was installed in 1998Chairman of the Arts Council Gerry Robinson and sculptor Anthony Gormley toast the Angel shortly after is was installed in 1998 (Image: NORTH NEWS)

In Cowen Gardens - the closest street in Gateshead to the Angel - a man in braces is doing his washing up. Looking out of his kitchen window, he shakes his head in disbelief while scrubbing a pot - but then his view for perpetuity now is directly up the backside of the Angel.

His is the only dissension to be noted, but this is the day that the luvvies from London descend to exchange air kisses and look over their latest creation. The wind is cruel, painfully whipping coat collars onto cold cheeks.

With 60mph blasts blowing up its rear - a very pert and shapely rear at that - the Angel stands steadfastly still, its wings flexing very slightly. A tarpulin attached to the right wing breaks lose from its ropes, and is noisily torn to tatters. On the football pitches below, a crossbar rattles furiously against the posts.

"It's wonderful to have the weather," enthuses sculptor Antony Gormley. "It is what makes Northerners Northerners.

"It's great to see how the Angel stands up to the Northern blasts. It remains very, very silent. I thought there'd be some wind whistle." Despite the fury of the gale, and the bullet-like rain exploding on faces and camera lenses, the Angel stands impassively. Almost serenely, it gazes into the distance far beyond the daily drudgery of the 90,000 cars that commute at its feet to character-less shopping malls and airless offices.

"It is a witness to life at the end of the 20th Century," says Gormley. "The car is a human body isolated in a bubble, not communicating with anyone else. The Angel is trying to ask 'Is that all we can be?'." With the Angel posing for the world's TV cameras, Gormley is thinking of the future. "I'm against art as amenity, so I don't want it to be lit up at night like a crazy golf course or Blackpool Tower," he says.

"I want to make a souvenir of it. I don't want fly-by night guys making something tacky. I want the image of the Angel to be as good as the real thing, using the same digital technology to make a model that's a thousandth of the size." Rather strangely for someone who's against tat, he says he'd like to put the model in a bubble with artificial snow. "I just like the idea of it in a snowstorm," he adds.

Sid Henderson, the Gateshead councillor whose baby the Angel is, walks around beaming like a proud father. "My initial impression was that the wings would be much bigger, but it looks to be much more in proportion now," he says. "It's really quite magnificent, quite beautiful." Lord Gowrie, the chairman of the Arts Council, overflows with enthusiasm. "It is the great masterpiece of 20th Century sculpture in the world," he says, his Dr Who style coat threatening take-off from his body in the wind. "It is a symbol of the role of this region's industry in the world. It is its swansong, its last hymn of praise, and yet it looks forward to the creative, information industries which are going to employ us in the future.

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"The scale of that achievement and what it symbolises makes the £800,000 it cost look like peanuts." After the ceremonies, the luvvies head back to London and the camera crews head to the pub over the road. It used to be called the Old Barn, but it has suddenly been reborn as the Angel View Inn. Inside, the camera crews seek out views on the Angel.

The Northern Echo: Drivers on the A1 slow down to catch a glimpse of the Angel of the North as it is being installed in 1998Drivers on the A1 slow down to catch a glimpse of the Angel of the North as it is being installed in 1998 (Image: NORTH NEWS)

The landlady smiles into the lights and tells how she loves it, no doubt also loving the business that'll wing its way to her.

A four-year-old boy has more surprises. "I would like to have it in my garden," he says, "because it is very cold without any clothes on."