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Tony Cragg

 

Published in Sculpture (September 1997)

 

 

It is very tempting to interpret Tony Cragg's 1992 sculpture, 'Spyrogyra', as a riposte to Duchamp.  Consisting of several dozen sandblasted bottles which cling, at mouth end, to the serpentine form of a metal tube, 'Spyrogyra' is a bottle-rack gone mad.  Of course, Cragg is an heir of Duchamp when his material - the glass bottle - is readymade, but as is increasingly the case with this sculptor who emerged from the conceptualism and arte povera of the 1970s, the transmutation of materials is as crucial as their election or preservation.  These are still indefatigably real, actual bottles but in the particularity of their treatment they have been aestheticized, shedding something of the banality of the social environment from which they have been gathered to be rendered more ethereal and archetypal in their sandblasted state.  As they become more opaque attention shifts from individual bottles in space to a mass surface impression.

 

Cragg may have come out of arte povera, but his sculptural forms now have an aristocratic finesse.  (Arte Povera's original spokesman, Germano Celant, has recently authored the first monograph on Cragg, a handsomely produced volume from Thames and Hudson.)  No longer a scavenger among skips Cragg is now more a captain of industry exploiting a wide variety of techniques and materials often in highly innovatory ways.  He recently showed 14 newish pieces at London's Whitechapel Gallery, a venue where he staged an important early exhibition fifteen years ago.  His defining works at that earlier stage used found junk in witty, inventive collages, often pictorially mapping out images on wall or floor. 

 

He has become far more three-dimensional, but what carries over from his early approach is the supremacy of the visual over the tactile.  Works fabricated to the artist's order reflect his vision but do not bear his touch, and consequently appeal directly to the imagination, bypassing the more visceral response that should be generic to the appreciation of sculpture.  The sheer sexiness and panache of Cragg and the fantastic range of his visual imagination can ultimately detract from the sculptural experience, from an engagement with form.  The groups of assembled wooden objects, both man-made and natural, such as chairs and logs, whose surfaces are liberally punctuated with hooks, is visually exhiberating, electifying the edges of the forms and sending a shiver down the spine.  (In another group of works, not included in this show, knobs are similarly used to evoke unwholesome leeches or growths.)  But ultimately such cleverness is the trick of an art director as much as - possibly more than - the achievement of a sculptor. 

 

There is in fact throughout his recent work a tension between surface and depth which almost allegorizes a struggle within the artist's soul between a sculptor and an imagemonger.  'Forminifera' (1996) has laboratory vessel-shapes (a former lab technician, Cragg has an enduring penchant for test tubes, beakers and scientific apparatus) cast in plaster which is perforated with holes, a familiar Cragg motif.  These holes could have been supremely sculptural, taking the eye into the depths of the material, but actually they achieve the opposite effect, appearing like polka-dots to embolden the surfaces and reinforce a sense of graphic closure. 

 

Whatever job title we end up giving him, sculptor or art-director, 'Secretions' (1996) must be acknowledged as an extraordinary tour de force.  A two part sculpture which has many thousands of dice embedded within its surfaces, the sculpture's underlying form is vaguely biomorphic, as with much of his recent work.  The glistening mosaic of little dice with their random exposure of numbers inevitably evoking DNA follows the sinuous folds of the underlying structure.  This gives off a sensuous sheen, and even when the regimentation of little squares is thrown, resulting in awkward breaks and joins, this only serves to intensify the voluptuousness, recalling the mosaic work of Gaudi.  The formal and conceptual richness of this device is extremely sumptuous and satisfying. 

 

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