Why sculpture?

When I discovered that near Myrtle Beach in South Carolina there is a park with over 500 sculptures in it my plans were immediately altered to include a visit there. Something about sculpture fascinates me enormously.

I know Modern Art is not to every one's taste; it's good that we all like different things, of course. My real interest in it started in my twenties when I became more and more aware of Andy Warhol's work. There is, as far as I can tell, no middle ground with his art, you either like it or you don't, simple as that. From him I then started to admire the work of Roy Lichtenstein, Polish born Tamara de Lempicka and, having thought his work was trite and childish, went to see an exhibition of Jackson Pollock's work and saw a depth and meaning to it which was not obvious from previous photographs seen of his stuff.

I can see that another man looking at the same paintings would still see them as meaningless or worthless and, I guess, equally another person might see something altogether more deep and meaningful than I did. That is the beauty and fascination of art in any form, paintings, music, literature, etc.

Running parallel to my love of mainly American Modern artists has been an increasingly profound love of sculpture. I can remember seeing an exhibition of the work of Englishman Henry Moore in London, probably in my mid to late twenties and being awestruck way beyond my expectations. Part of that was undoubtedly due to the sheer scale of the work, Moore's sculptures tended to be very large and grand. Massive bronzes which, despite their size and material managed to convey a lot of sensuality and occasionally sexuality. So many of the abstract pieces seemed to be one very small step away from representing the female form whilst the rest invariably were indeed of the female body in one guise or another.

As the years have passed and I've visited so many galleries I have refined my time more and more. I know what doesn't please me and walk straight past with nary a sideways glance and use my time seeking out the works which intrigue me most. Sixties Pop Art will always draw my attention, art "installations" will be viewed and judged on individual merit - I once watched a still life video deliberately placed opposite a traditional still life oil painting. I looked at the oil painting for about thirty seconds and then stood transfixed watching the video play through four consecutive times. Watching a bowl of fruit start to rot, become covered with mildew which then spread from the bowl across the table, miraculously vanished back into the bowl and disappear forever had a beauty the painting couldn't match.

Equally there is an ever-present exhibit at the Tate Modern gallery in London which is nothing but a blank canvas - and by blank I mean there is no paint upon it whatsoever - in a frame with just one slash through it from a sharp knife. To me it is simply a piss-take. Everyone of us could stretch a canvas across a frame, slash it with a knife and call it art. I wanted to take a knife of my own and make it two slashes so that I had created "art" - I hate it that much. But I have to assume the "artist" - I can't bring myself to remove the quotation marks - would be so pleased to have invoked that response in me.

So why then the fascination with sculpture? For me it is summed up to perfection with the piece in the photograph at the top. It is called "Job - man of wood" and was created by a Jamaican artist who was brought to England by The Prince's Trust when discovered by Prince Charles in Jamaica. He was Lancelot Bryan who sadly died last summer after a long battle with cancer. If not for his art he deserves to be remembered for the work he did in his adopted community taking art, sculpture and self expression to the children of Bradford in Yorkshire. He had a passion for giving children an inner belief and the chance to discover their potential.

Discovering potential was really the whole raison d'etre of Lancelot Bryan. He worked exclusively with the wood known as lignum vitae, a very hard wood which was particularly difficult to carve. He had an ability to stand and look at a large block of the wood and just "see" what was in there. It is a rare talent or gift indeed and one that many artists would have envied him. He summed it up himself in one simple sentence, "Whatever you want is in the wood, all you have to do is take away what you don't want and release it". Oh - well if it's that easy maybe we should all do it!

How many of us have the feeling, the inner vision, the depth to "see" a finished piece of art inside a block of anything, wood, metal, clay? And of the precious few who have that innate gift how many have the skills to actually bring it to reality? Bryan spent six full weeks just polishing the face above to get the smooth finish he wanted. The dreadlocks are carved in exquisitely tiny detail. When you see it you want to touch it - need to touch it, have to touch it - and fortunately it is on display in the Wolverhampton Art Gallery in a room created for the blind and those of limited vision. It is an area where everybody is actively encouraged to touch the exhibits and feel the shapes and textures.

I think, in a nutshell, I love sculpture so much because of envy. Deep within me is a desire to have that ability to create shapes and, more importantly, create shapes which only exist in my mind and in my imagination. But I am realistic enough to know that I possess neither the imagination nor the skills. Just the envy of those who have both. And Lancelot Bryan was a fine example of that. I'll think of him often as I walk through the park in South Carolina.