Millar’s childhood was spent growing up in the small mining community of Springside, situated between the two Scottish towns of Irvine and Kilmarnock. “Even though it was the 60s that I grew up in it felt more like the 40s,” comments Millar, “as the village seemed to be in some time warp stuck between the industrial revolution and Brig O Doun, and as with most wee places in Scotland, Springside had its fair share of “characters” most of whom I was related to in one way or another.”
Even as a child Millar was always fascinated by the small details he saw in everyday life and would stand in awe at something as insignificant as an old man getting off a bike, an old woman with bad hips struggling on and off the bus, he continues, “or the way the street drunk would stand at the corner of the local pub armed with a fish supper negotiating a chip to land somewhere in the region of his mouth without getting brown sauce all down his front or getting the chip stuck up his nose, like some lunar docking mission that was about to be aborted.”
He describes it all as a street dance, produced for him only and made what seemed ordinary and mundane quite fascinating. “I guess that is the whole premise of the work that I produce in that I still take delight in turning the “ordinary” into something “extraordinary”.