by Abakanowicz: Walking Figures
The second installation of sculptures installed by the Vancouver Biennale in the City of North Vancouver (in addition to Wang Shugang’s sculptures) are the Walking Figures, a group of headless cast iron figures by one of my favourite artists, Magdalena Abakanowicz. These are installed individually on the sidewalk over several blocks of Lonsdale Avenue.
I still remember well Abakanowicz’ similar stunning figures called Vancouver Ancestors, set together as a powerful group on a grassy slope in Queen Elizabeth Park in 2006, also part of that year’s Vancouver Biennale.
Though I did not have the time to visit all the Walking Figures, I was excited to see several of these. Yet I did not feel these had the power of the Ancestors because they stood alone and apart next to a very busy street. I can understand the reasoning for this kind of installation – to expose art to people in their daily movements on the street, so much more prevalent in many European cities. In my short time there as I took photographs, I also observed the human traffic and it seemed not one person paused to look at them, though maybe some had already viewed them earlier if they regularly passed by them.
There are a couple of interesting links (as pdfs) at the Biennale site if you desire more information:
about the installation
about the artist
August 17, 2014 in Art Exhibitions, Other artists by Marja-Leena
They are very interesting, but I see your point now I’ve looked at the pictures you took of the Ancestors back in 2006.
Portland is another city where you can see a number of bronze sculptures on sidewalk display.
Susan, I have seen some photos of the many sculptures around Portland. I recall they were well placed without the distractions of street lights and such. These in North Vancouver are temporary rather than permanent installations so perhaps those considerations were not as important. I’m just too fussy about settings, I suppose.
It’s interesting that as I saw the photographs before reading your response to the setting I was thinking: how wondrous to have these not set apart, but there where you least expect them, in among the other walkers – to be noticed suddenly. I love being surprised, and I must admit do look at all sorts of ‘ordinary’ street furniture, functional technology detritus, and everything around, and am often delighted with the odd conjunctions that are sometimes formed. Encountering these walkers unprepared would have made my month at the very least. I would hope that it would encourage others to look more – but as you say, most folks don’t notice anything much of their everyday surroundings. How much they miss!
Olga, I agree heartily that sculptures set in walking areas are a wonderful thing. My less hearty reaction was biased by the memory of the awe and wonder of The Ancestors all together – the power of a large group. If I hadn’t seen them first, I would probably not have reacted as I did.
LIke you, I do love to look at all kinds of street furniture, and even did a series of prints called London Underfoot which you probably recall.
It really is sad that so many people don’t pay attention to their surroundings, especially when something new and stunning is right in front of them.
What to expect with such a gorgeous tree stealing the show.
Ellena, yes, how true. One of the other figures was completely in the shade of another even-larger tree with over-hnaging branches so my photo of it was not good enough to show.
Somewhat reminiscent of Ancient Egyptian (headless) mummies, but nice ones of course.
Tom, now why did I not think of mummies? Maybe if they were lying down. Now you have made to think of those headless walking monsters in some horror films – dang.
Very unusual. I like them.
Hattie, I’m glad you like these. I love the textures formed with rough fabrics wrapped around the upper bodies.
Oh, yes, I remember her work–saw it first on Chris Miller’s mountshang site. (He didn’t like them in Grant Park!) I am not a bit surprised you like them because they have that ancient, buried, fabric-like, mummied, rusted, decayed, forgotten, brutalized-by-time-passing look that lures you so strongly–also you are fond of the enigmatic and unreadable, and it is part of her method that Abakanowicz refuses to be open and readable.
Somehow I think of Shakespeare:
“And of the Cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders.”
–Shakespeare, “Othello”
That came from stories of a Nubian kingdom where the people’s eyes and mouth grew out of their chests… But I don’t think Abakanowicz would want to be quite so open and humanizing as that… She’d rather have giant striders who have suffered and lost so much, yet insist on walking on, not realizing what they are now missing. And no longer being quite human, they dominate the rest of us!
Wow, Marly – you have read me better than I can, and Abakanowicz too! Thanks for the great quote and the background info. The idea of ‘striders’ or headless monsters is a reading I did not think of. It’s been a long while since I read a monograph of A. but I seem to remember her saying that her work is influenced partly by the war atrocities that went on in Eastern Europe. And these still relate, psychologically, to wars of today, to its dehumanizing aspects.
Oh, images from ‘The Book Thief’ just popped into my head. I had recently finished reading it – quite disturbing! – do you know it?
And thanks for mentioning ‘mountshang’ which I found and will check out.
You and Chris are very, very different in outlook. Of course, I like that, being fascinated with people and how to embody them in words… He is committed to a traditional mode of sculpture and painting, and he is forthright and opinionated. He is an interesting character in that way. His father was noted sculptor Richard J. Miller.
Yes, I think she definitely links up with childhood and war…
Somebody gave me the Marcus Zusak book when it came out in the U.S., but in my usual memory-dumping way, I seem to have rendered it back to alphabet soup…
Yes, Marly, I got that picture of Chris, that he leans to the traditional, and that’s okay. It’s funny that some think my work is non-traditional or too ‘modern’, others think it is too traditional – depends on where that party stands of course, especially in their art education.
You have memory-dumping ways? I find that hard to believe because you frequently quote other writers with such ease that I’m in awe. My memory for words is terrible.