By Amy Broderick
Entering Beyond the Figure at the Norton Museum of Art in West Palm Beach, one enters a darkened gallery in which strange forms emerge from the shadows. Although artifacts from our own culture, these forms also point toward a parallel universe — a realm where we understand and know objects with all our senses and our imaginations.
The roughly 20 sculptural works on view do not depict recognizable subjects, so each viewer is left to search for other clues to unlock their mysteries. One gains a deep appreciation for the materiality of each work, encountering objects that are tactile, physical, and irresistible.
These sculptures are remarkably rooted. While the forms are mysterious, the materials and fabrication are amazingly familiar and recognizable. The works invite engagement because they exist in the same space that viewers occupy, giving the curious visitor both physical and visual access to them. This literal access facilitates intellectual access, offering opportunities to spend time appreciating each work.
As the light rakes across the surfaces of the pieces, each step of the creative process is revealed. The smooth, seemingly bioluminescent curves of Dale Chihuly’s Macchia Forest (1994) float along one wall in dramatic contrast with the earthy, sullen crevasses of Ursula von Rydingsvard’s Bowl-in-a-Bowl (1999). As one moves through the galleries, the mass, interest, and texture of each elegant and refined form are revealed.
Although the exhibition showcases a number of highly reduced, even austere objects, their physical presence, direct presentation, and thoughtful lighting make them endlessly engaging. Close inspection reveals the details of the joinery in Sol LeWitt’s 2 x 7 x 7 (1989). The brass spines of Harry Bertoia’s Sunburst III (1968) vibrate and shimmer with light and texture in the subtle meteorology of the gallery. Elsewhere, attentively carved wood transforms into a voluptuous puddle at the base of Toshio Odate’s Suspended Column Melting (1974).
Allan McCollum’s Ninety-Six Plaster Surrogates No. 4 (1982/89) and John McCracken’s Black Plank (1974) are examples of the simplified abstractions in the exhibition. This work creates ambiguities for viewers to consider. Beyond the Figure offers an enormous amount of space, both the physical space of the gallery and intellectual space, space into which viewers — as bodies and as thinkers—are able to project, imagine, and rewrite meaning.
McCollum’s work is an especially good example of this. This work is a seemingly endless number of blank, provisional, repeating forms. These framed gray rectangles are incomplete by their very design, inviting the viewer to complete them.
The strong physical presence of McCracken’s sculpture tempts viewers to assign an identity to this otherwise obscure object. The immense black slab becomes something relative to the viewer’s body, but its scale is just uncertain enough that it refuses to point directly to any referent in the world beyond the gallery. Instead, it has an insistent here-ness, demanding acceptance as it is.
Tension grows between its strong presence and its ambiguity, allowing one to push it in any number of directions while moving around it. If only I could be under it, it could be a shelter. There might be just enough space behind it for me to use it as a door. It might be flush enough against this wall to be part of the wall itself. It might be just narrow enough for me to dance with it as if it were another body.
Joel Shapiro’s Untitled (1985) is arguably more familiar, precisely scaled to the human figure. Forms are cantilevered as if the sculpture were bending at the waist like one of Edgar Degas’ dancers. Although not obviously figural, these rectilinear forms appear to locomote as if human. This familiarity tests the limits of one’s ability to empathize with objects that might otherwise seem distant or blank. This kind of abstraction is so pared down that the objects themselves become invitations to enter into a sensory and contemplative relationship with them.
These are incredibly quiet forms, ones that might easily be overlooked in other contexts. Presented together in this exhibition, installed as they are in the company of one another, all this quiet mystery invites—and rewards—careful inspection and patient appreciation.
Amy Broderick is an artist, writer, and professor. She is currently associate professor of drawing and painting at Florida Atlantic University in Boca Raton. She regularly exhibits and delivers lectures about her work locally and nationally. Visit her at www.amybroderick.com.
Beyond the Figure: Abstract Sculpture in the Norton Museum Collection runs through Sept. 5 at the Norton Museum of Art in West Palm Beach. For more information, call 832-5136 or visit www.norton.org.