Creating Emrys — The Great Welsh Dragon

Two and a Half Years. Hundreds of Pieces. One Dragon.

How do you build a dragon capable of carrying the story of an entire country?

I had absolutely no instruction manual.

Emrys — The Great Welsh Dragon took two and a half years to create, and almost every part of him presented a different problem to solve.

This was sculpture, painting, metalwork, repoussé, etching, enamelling, mosaic, construction and engineering all colliding in one enormous project.

And sometimes my ambition got considerably ahead of my practical knowledge.

But that became part of the adventure.

I wasn't interested in creating Welsh symbolism simply by placing familiar images onto a dragon. Wherever possible, I wanted the materials and construction themselves to tell the story.

Copper wasn't merely decorative.

Steel wasn't simply structural.

Slate wasn't just a convenient base.

Each had a reason for being there.

And so the dragon grew, piece by piece.

His copper scales alone expanded from an estimated 600 to approximately 960, each individually cut and shaped by hand, with 742 eventually engraved with the names of Welsh personalities.

His industrial landscape developed through steel and slate, thirteen chimneys, brass, copper and countless tiny details — even a little metal Idris from Ivor the Engine found a home amongst the chimneys.

His wings became another sculpture within the sculpture.

His base became Wales itself.

His painted panels required an entirely different process, translating centuries of history, mythology and folklore into imagery.

And eventually, all those independent pieces had to become one creature.

This gallery follows that process.

It doesn't explain everything you're looking at — we'll do that in the Artist Journals.

Here, I want to show you something much simpler:

how on earth I built him.

Early design sketch establishing the shape and proportions of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon before construction began.

The Great Welsh Dragon Emrys

Before the copper, steel, slate, paintings and hundreds of individual pieces, there was simply a dragon on a piece of paper.
This early sketch was my starting point for Emrys — working out his overall shape, stance and proportions before I had any real idea of just how complicated building him was going to become.
The familiar shape of Y Ddraig Goch, the Welsh dragon, gave me the foundation, but I already knew I didn't want to create an ordinary dragon. His body would eventually have to carry an extraordinary amount of information, while still remaining recognisably a dragon.
Looking back at this simple drawing now makes me smile.
I had drawn the dragon. I just hadn't yet realised quite what I had let myself in for.

Early design sketch for Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon showing ideas for the mine-shaft legs, Welsh figures, historical dates and handwritten construction notes.

First Ideas

This early sketch shows Emrys beginning to take shape on paper.
The legs are already being explored as industrial structures rather than conventional dragon limbs, while the page around them is filled with notes, names and ideas for the people, events and references I wanted to weave into the sculpture.
You can see fragments such as FED and 1894, alongside lists and reminders of possible Welsh figures and stories to include.
At this stage, nothing was fixed. The sketchbook became a place to gather everything — history, industry, personalities, dates and visual ideas — before deciding how they could all eventually become part of one dragon.
This was less a finished design and more the beginning of a very large conversation with Wales.

Painted panels fitted to the metal support frame of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon, with the underlying dragon body painted red as a hidden tribute to Y Ddraig Goch.

Even the Hidden Parts Had Meaning

Here the two large painted panels are being fitted to the metal framework created to support them within Emrys's body.
At this stage, the dragon itself is painted red. Once the panels and outer layers were attached, much of this colour would disappear completely from view, but I wanted it there regardless.
The red was my quiet tribute to Y Ddraig Goch — the Red Dragon of Wales.
I knew no one would see it beneath the finished surface, but that didn't matter. Emrys was never only about what could be seen. Even the hidden layers were part of the story I was building into him.
Designing the Underbelly

Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon under construction on his plinth, with mine-shaft legs supporting the exposed skeletal body structure.

The Dragon Takes Shape

Here Emrys stands on his plinth for the first time, supported by the mine-shaft legs that would become such an important part of his design.
Rather than giving him conventional dragon legs, I wanted the structure itself to tell part of the story of Wales. The legs were designed to echo the mine shafts that once dominated the Welsh industrial landscape, allowing the history of coal mining to become physically responsible for supporting the dragon above.
At this stage, Emrys is still very much a skeleton. The main body has been constructed, but the copper scales, painted panels and hundreds of details that would eventually transform him are yet to come.
It is one of those photographs where you can really see what lies beneath the finished sculpture — the engineering that had to exist before the storytelling could begin.

Pages of rough sketches and handwritten design ideas created while planning Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon, including concepts that were later changed or abandoned.

Ideas, Experiments and Possibilities

Not every idea in my sketchbook made it onto Emrys.
These rough drawings capture the more experimental part of the design process — thoughts quickly put onto paper, possibilities explored and ideas considered before I knew exactly what would work.
Some developed into elements of the finished dragon, while others were abandoned or replaced as the sculpture evolved.
I think these sketches are important because they show the reality behind creating something as complicated as Emrys. The finished sculpture may look carefully planned, but getting there involved constant questioning, changing my mind and sometimes simply deciding, no, that's not going to work.

Measured design and construction of the articulated underbelly of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon, carefully shaped to create movement and form even in areas largely hidden from view.

Designing the Underbelly

Even the parts of Emrys that would eventually be hidden from view were carefully considered.
The underbelly was mapped out and measured before construction, with each section planned to follow the form of the dragon. I wanted movement within it too, rather than creating a rigid, flat underside. The structure needed to suggest the curves and movement of a living creature.
Much of this work would barely be noticed once Emrys was complete, but that never made it unimportant to me.
There were no throwaway areas on this sculpture. Whether a detail would eventually be seen or hidden, every part of Emrys was deliberate, measured and thoughtfully made.

Pewter family tree hidden beneath the belly of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon, representing Julia O'Sullivan's Welsh ancestry and personal connection to the sculpture.

Julia's Family Tree

Hidden beneath Emrys's belly is something much more personal — my own family tree.
Made in pewter, it was placed on the underside of the dragon where most people would probably never know it existed.
Emrys had become my exploration of Welsh history, heritage and identity, but beneath all those national stories lay my own connection to Wales. Including my family tree was my quiet way of acknowledging the generations that came before me and my own place within that much larger story.
Like the red hidden beneath the painted panels, it didn't matter that this detail might never be seen.
I knew it was there.
And on a sculpture that had become so deeply connected to my own search for belonging and my Welsh roots, it felt important that a small piece of my own history should be hidden within him.

Constructed steel claw for Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon, developed first as a cardboard template before being cut from panel steel and welded together.

Constructing the Claw

The claw began with cardboard.
I first designed and constructed the shape in cardboard, allowing me to work out the proportions and form before committing the design to steel.
Once I was happy with it, the individual pieces were transferred onto panel steel and cut out before being welded together to create the finished structure.
Working this way gave me the freedom to experiment first and solve any problems before moving into a much less forgiving material.
From a simple cardboard model to welded steel, another piece of Emrys was taking shape.

Individual decorative pieces created for the claw of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon, representing Welsh ideas, inventions and achievements before being attached to the sculpture.

All Things Welsh

Before the claw was assembled, I created the many individual pieces that would be attached to it — small, hidden tributes to Welsh ideas, inventions, achievements and ingenuity.
Each element was made separately before finding its place within the larger structure. Some are obvious when you know where to look; others can easily be missed altogether.
That was very much the spirit of Emrys. I didn't want every story to announce itself immediately. I wanted people to look closer and keep discovering things.
Even a claw couldn't simply be a claw.
It became another place to hide a little more of Wales.

Head of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon under construction, developed first in cardboard then recreated in panel steel and painted red ready for the copper scales.

Creating a Dragon's Head

The head began in much the same way as several other parts of Emrys — in cardboard.
I first constructed the shape in cardboard so I could work out the angles, proportions and three-dimensional form before transferring the individual sections onto panel steel.
Those pieces were then cut, shaped and joined together to create the much stronger metal head that would eventually support hundreds of individual details.
Before the scales were attached, I painted the entire head red, just as I had done with the body. Soon almost all of that red would disappear beneath the copper.
At this stage, though, Emrys was still wonderfully raw — a red steel dragon waiting for his skin.

Swirling steel sea constructed for the tail of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon as part of Julia O'Sullivan's original design representing Welsh emigration.

The Swirling Sea of Change

The swirling steel sea was created to attach to Emrys's tail as part of my original idea for representing Welsh emigration.
I shaped the steel into a vortex, giving the sea a sense of movement and turbulence rather than making it a calm, decorative surface. I wanted it to suggest people being drawn away from Wales and carried towards lives elsewhere.
It was another example of trying to make the construction itself tell the story. The steel wasn't simply there to represent water — its twists and movement were part of the meaning.
As with many elements of Emrys, the idea evolved as I worked, but this piece captures one of those moments when I was still figuring out how to turn something as enormous as leaving your homeland into something you could actually see.

Handmade water wheel created as an industrial heritage detail for Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon before being incorporated into the sculpture.

Building The Water Wheel

The water wheel became another piece of Wales's industrial story built directly into Emrys.
I wanted the sculpture to acknowledge not only the people and legends of Wales, but also the industries, machinery and engineering that shaped its communities and landscape.
Creating the wheel as a three-dimensional element allowed that history to become part of the physical structure of the dragon rather than simply being represented in paint.
Like so many elements of Emrys, it began as a separate object in the workshop before eventually finding its place within the much larger sculpture.
Piece by piece, the story of Wales was becoming part of his body.

Early tail design for Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon showing the proposed Severn Bridge, originally considered as a symbol of Welsh emigration.

The Tail Tells a Story

This early sketch explores the design of Emrys's tail, including an idea that ultimately never made it into the finished sculpture.
I originally considered incorporating the Severn Bridge into this part of the dragon as a symbol of Welsh people leaving Wales — crossing the border and carrying their identity with them elsewhere.
As the design developed, the idea was eventually abandoned, but I like that these sketches preserve those possibilities. Emrys changed constantly during the two and a half years I worked on him, and not every piece of symbolism survived the journey from paper to sculpture.
Sometimes an idea can be important to the creative process even when it never appears in the finished artwork.

Board displaying many finished handmade copper scales ready to be attached to Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon.

Scale Upon Scale

Here, many of Emrys's copper scales are finally finished and laid out together, ready to become part of the dragon.
What began as individual pieces of sheet copper had been cut, shaped and worked by hand, with many carrying the names of Welsh personalities.
Seeing them gathered together like this gave me the first real sense of their number — and of just how much work was going into creating Emrys's skin.
Individually, each was a small piece of copper.
Together, they would become a dragon.

Close-up of a copper scale on Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon engraved with Julia O'Sullivan's mother's name and the Welsh word Teulu, meaning family.

Mother of all Dragons

Among the hundreds of names engraved into Emrys's copper scales is one that is especially personal to me — my mother's.
Alongside her name is the Welsh word “Teulu” — family.
With so many scales celebrating notable Welsh people, I wanted some of the quieter, personal threads of my own Welsh story to exist amongst them too. My family tree was already hidden beneath Emrys's belly, and this scale became another small acknowledgement of where I came from.
Among the famous names and great stories of Wales sits the name of someone who is part of my own story.

Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon during construction, with copper scales covering the head and the large wings attached to the main body.

Beginning to Look Like a Dragon

By this stage, Emrys was beginning to look less like a construction and much more like the dragon I had imagined.
The head was now covered with individually made copper scales, completely changing its surface and giving it texture, character and presence. The wings had also been attached to the main body, dramatically altering his silhouette and giving a real sense of his eventual scale.
There was still an enormous amount of work ahead, but this was one of those moments in the making when I could finally stand back and see Emrys emerging from all the separate pieces.

Design sketches for Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon showing ideas for the industrial chimneys and Idris the Dragon from Ivor the Engine.

Idris and the Chimneys

Another page of ideas, this time exploring the chimneys that would eventually rise from Emrys's back and how Idris the Dragon from Ivor the Engine might be incorporated amongst them.
The chimneys were part of my tribute to the industrial landscape of Wales, but I also wanted moments of affection and humour woven through the sculpture.
Idris was one of those little details — a familiar Welsh dragon finding his place within the much larger one I was creating.
These sketches were where I could play with those ideas before working out how to turn them into three-dimensional pieces.

Hand-beaten steel chimneys being positioned during the construction of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon, with Idris from Ivor the Engine placed among them.

Steel, Chimneys and Idris

Here I was beginning to map out the position of the chimneys that would eventually rise from Emrys's back.
Each chimney was hand-beaten from steel, the material itself chosen as a nod to the Welsh steelworks and another way of physically building the country's industrial heritage into the dragon.
Sitting amongst them is Idris from Ivor the Engine, bringing a little piece of Welsh childhood nostalgia into the industrial landscape.
Nothing is finished or permanently positioned at this point. I was still moving the pieces around, judging their height, spacing and balance, and working out how they would eventually sit together on Emrys's back.
It is another glimpse of the constant process behind the sculpture — make, position, look, adjust, and only then decide.

Idris

And here is little Idris.
I created him to sit amongst the steel chimneys on Emrys's back — a small tribute to Idris the Dragon from Ivor the Engine.
With so much history, industry and symbolism packed into Emrys, I also wanted room for the affectionate cultural references that many people would recognise from childhood.
Idris is tiny compared with the dragon he eventually became part of, which makes him quite easy to miss.
But that is part of the fun of Emrys.
There is always something else hiding somewhere.

Handmade copper flames created for the mouth of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon, replacing an early plan for glass and smoke effects and referencing Swansea's historic copper industry.

Copper Flames of Wales

My original plans for Emrys breathing fire were, admittedly, rather ambitious.
I had imagined glass balls combined with a smoke machine hidden inside the dragon, creating a theatrical burst of smoke and fire from his mouth.
Eventually, I decided that perhaps Emrys didn't need his own special-effects department.
Instead, I created these copper flames.
It was a much more elegant solution and, importantly, gave me another opportunity to connect the materials of the sculpture with the history of Wales. Copper has an extraordinary association with Swansea, once known as Copperopolis because of the importance of its copper-smelting industry.
So the flames became more than dragon fire. The material itself added another piece of Welsh industrial history to Emrys.
Less smoke machine, more Copperopolis — and I think Emrys is all the better for it.

Early design sketches exploring the shape, structure and additional ideas for the wings of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon.

Working Out the Wings

These sketches explore ideas for Emrys's wings and some of the possibilities I considered while developing their design.
The wings were always going to be a major feature of the sculpture, so I spent time thinking not only about their shape and proportions, but how they would work with the rest of the dragon.
As with so many of my early drawings, the page became a place to think freely. Ideas were added, altered and sometimes abandoned altogether.
The finished wings grew out of this process — not from one perfect drawing, but from allowing the design to evolve.

Early construction of the large wings for Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon, showing the unfinished structural framework before the decorative details were added.

Constructing the Wings

The sketches were now beginning to become something physical.
Here the wings are in their early stages of construction, with the basic structure being formed before all the decorative elements and finishing details were added.
Because of their eventual size, the wings needed to be more than visually dramatic. They had to be carefully constructed so they could be securely attached to Emrys while maintaining the shape and proportions I had designed.
At this point they are still quite raw, which is what I love about these photographs. You can see the structure beneath the finished artwork and the gradual transition from an idea on paper into something real.

Handmade glass beads created by Julia O'Sullivan after learning glasswork, designed to add flashes of colour and light to the wings of Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon.

Creating Colour in Glass

I wanted the wings to catch the light and introduce flashes of colour amongst the metal, so I decided to make glass beads to incorporate into their design.
Glasswork wasn't something I already knew how to do, so I took a lesson and learned how to create the beads myself.
That became part of the adventure of making Emrys. If the sculpture needed something I didn't yet know how to make, my answer was often simply to learn how to make it.
The finished beads brought small bursts of colour and light into the wings, adding another material — and another newly learned skill — to an already complicated dragon.

Preparatory sketches of Hywel Dda and Caratacus created while developing the historical imagery for Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon.

Sketching Hywel Dda and Caratacus

These early sketches explore how Hywel Dda and Caratacus might be represented within Emrys.
Before committing their stories to the finished artwork, I worked through ideas on paper — considering their poses, imagery and how each could be recognised within the much larger story unfolding across the dragon.
With so much Welsh history to incorporate, the sketchbook became an essential part of the process. It allowed me to experiment with how enormous historical stories could be reduced into small but meaningful visual scenes.
These drawings were the first step in turning two figures from Welsh history into part of Emrys's story.

Canvas panels being constructed and prepared with three-dimensional form before painting for Emrys the Great Welsh Dragon.

Constructing The Painted Panels

Before any of the imagery could be painted, the canvas panels themselves had to be constructed.
I didn't want the paintings to simply sit as flat pictures against the sides of Emrys. The panels were built and prepared to give them a three-dimensional quality, allowing the painted stories to become part of the sculpture rather than something merely attached to it.
This photograph shows that preparation taking place — building the surfaces and working out their form before the painting could even begin.
With Emrys, there was often an entire construction process behind something that, in the finished piece, might simply appear to be a painting.

The Dragon Was Finished. But His Journey Wasn't.

After two and a half years, the final piece was in place.

I had made the scales, constructed the body, painted the panels, worked the metal, built the landscape and somehow transformed hundreds of separate ideas into the dragon that had existed in my imagination.

Emrys was finished.

Or at least I thought he was.

Because a dragon created in New Zealand while I was trying to reconnect with Wales would eventually make an extraordinary journey of his own.

Against all the odds, Emrys would cross the world and find his way home.

And his story didn't quite end there.

There is something about that ending that still gets me.

I created Emrys because I was longing for Wales.

And eventually, Emrys went home.

But you've only seen how he was made.

You haven't yet discovered why almost every surface, material, figure and tiny object is there — or how a dragon created thousands of miles from Wales eventually found his way back.

For that, we need to take the dragon apart again.

Enter the Emrys Artist Journals

Journal 1: Inside the Great Welsh Dragon

Discover the history, mythology, people and symbolism hidden throughout Emrys.

Journal 2: The Dragon That Found His Way Home

Follow the extraordinary journey that took Emrys from a workshop in New Zealand to Wales — and discover why his homecoming became entwined with my own.

You've seen how I built him.
Now discover the Wales I built into him.

Jupigio-Artwork-Gallery