Ah, youth!
EVAN ANTHONY
I have a friend who, when she laughs, looks as though she is experi
encing excruciating pain. It could be that the Director of the British Museum, Sir John Wolfenden, is another whose expression contradicts the emotion he feels. As Sir John presented the awards to the six winners of the Daily Telegraph Young Sculptors Competition his expression was consistent enough with his remarks, but a little at odds, I thought, with his facial contortions earlier as he srolled through the Royal Academy glancing at the fifty-two pieces (selected from the 360 entries) to be exhibited along with the six prizewinners.
At one moment in his speech I thought — here it is, he's going to say what he really thinks. And, indeed, he probably did, but in the nicest sort of way. Sir John confessed, wryly, to being very square, but then immediately reassured us that he was aware that the new trend in sculpture was for the sculptor to be happy doing what he was doing and the whole experience was supposed to be fun for the spectator, too. Reverence was out, enjoyment in (as though the two couldn't possibly co-exist). Sir Thomas Monnington stood close by nodding approvingly, and there were several 'hear, hears' from the guests.
The Daily Telegraph and the Royal Academy should be pleased with the evidence of the achievement of their aim: "The competition aims particularly at spreading interest in sculpture. . . ." If the Director of the British Museum can accept what modern sculpture is about, the general public may well be just as understanding. Actually, one of the winners commented privately that the competition had done "a fairly decent job for the middle class," while another speculated about what the result would have been if the Daily Mirror had sponsored it. I shouldn't think there would be much difference, unless more young sculptors read the Mirror than read the Telegraph — with only 360 entrants for a national contest, the big problem is evidently how to motivate young sculptors to enter competitions.
You may feel as I do, that the job of selecting the prizewinners cannot have been easy. While my choices might not have been identical, I commend the judges on their phrase-making: 'It speaks of a new age' (Linda Mallett grand-prize winner); 'Completely bizarre but very attractive . . . a fun thing' (Errol Bryant); 'A very courageous effort. The objects translate well into aluminium' (Peter Wolstenholme); The relation of the three is good in a witty sense and also in a formal sense' (David Roft); 'Disturbing and pagan . . . the work of a witchdoctor ' (Ann Christopher); 'Carefully controlled exploitation of the accidental' (Saleem Arif). You've got until October 3 to see the exhibition and to see if you can match the works to the phrases.
One of the 354 who didn't win, but whose entry is included in the show, has gained a consolation prize of his own: a one-man show at the new Zella 9 Gallery, 2 Park Walk, Chelsea, next door to the Great American Disaster hamburger emporium. Stephen Collingbourne, the young sculptor in question, appears to be doing his bit for the recycling crowd. He produces his works from broken bits of old machines, scrap metal, sheets of aluminium. In an attempt to make us see things in a new context, Collingbourne rearranges his collection of odds and ends and in some cases his battle with the intractability of steel affords a fresh insight; in others I miss the invention of the artist. Well I'll be — if that isn't my old plough!
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