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拍品专文
‘His earlier idols echoed ancient figures that had become dislocated from any specific religious context: they provoked a sense of lost divinity and of the spiritual nature of art. The new idols not only reflect the spiritual nature of art in a secular society but also go on to ask questions about the value and use of various subjects and of artworks themselves’ (A.A. Davidson, The Sculpture of William Turnbull, Much Hadham, 2005, p. 62).
Created in 1988, Queen 2 is a key work from Turnbull’s later years which saw a reprise of the mysterious totemic bronze works the artist had first experimented with thirty years before. Elegant in its height, shape and delicate slenderness, Queen 2 takes its form from a variety of inspirations. Commentators have pointed to the natural forms similarly explored in Leaf Venus, but also to sacred ritualised objects found in distant cultures. Most notably, art historian Roger Bevan has likened the pointed teardrop shape to a ‘churinga’: a totem used by Aboriginal tribes in Australia. Marked with complex codes and symbols, these sacred objects are used within celebrations to communicate and present the history of their community, as well as passing on mystical knowledge.
Symbols similarly adorn Queen 2: the elongated bronze spear-head shape has intricate and abstract marks carved into the front, as though relics from an ancient and lost language, with no key to decode them. Amongst these markings, three triangular shapes stand out, forming what could be read as a representation of the female body, or even a facial structure. The anthropomorphic title Queen 2 also alludes to the strongly minimalist reduction of the human form, in this case a towering and elegant queen figure. This simplification of form, and subtle hints at features, such as the suggestion of a nose, or subtle pinning in of a waist, is typical of his sculptural work, and encourages the viewer to draw closer in order to complete their interpretation.
The linear connecting triangles on the surface of Queen 2 have become a motif much repeated in his iterations of the feminine form. They appear also in Large Spade Venus, 1986; Queen 1, 1987; Large Paddle Venus, 1988; Idol, 1988 and Female Figure, 1989 (sold in these Rooms, 26 June 2017, lot 41, for £497,000). The more complex, almost hectic interrelated lines also carved into Queen 2 are reminiscent of earlier works such as Screwhead, 1957, which has similarly rough lines etched into the surface, bringing together triangles, grids and panels of blank space. Amanda A. Davidson wrote of this mark-making ‘the sculptures invite the viewer to read them while refusing to supply the code to the signs, thus the works open themselves up to multiple and uncircumscribed narratives’ (A. Davidson, The Sculpture of William Turnbull, Much Hadham, 2005, p. 65). Turnbull himself described these geometric markings, which are often mysteriously referential to other markings in his past work, as ‘a symbolic way of taking your eyes around the sculpture’ and has drawn a comparison between the markings and tattoos, commenting, ‘from the very beginning of time, people have decorated their bodies. They tattoo themselves, they paint their eyes and lips’ (W. Turnbull, quoted in ibid., p. 68).
Turnbull’s two sons were expert skateboarders and surfers. Inspired by the simple streamlined shape of the long boards Turnbull must regularly have seen coming through his house, it is easy to recognise the surfboard shape he cited as an inspiration in Queen 2, as well as the skateboard shapes in Ancestral Figure, 1988, amongst others. Turnbull took the simple forms of everyday objects, such as tools, leaves or even surfboards, and transformed them into objects of spiritual contemplation or ‘idols’ as they became known.
Turnbull’s sculptural practice breathed new life after a major retrospective at the Tate Gallery in London in 1973, which proved to be a pivotal moment for his artistic thought. Confronted with such as large selection of his oeuvre gave Turnbull an opportunity to identify the themes and ideas he had consistently worked towards but had not always been consciously aware of. Reflecting in such a way enabled Turnbull to revisit to his original ideas and refine them. He made a glorious return to sculpture after a brief hiatus in the early 1970s, when he believed his ideas had already been taken as far as they could go. Working once more in his early organic materials, rather than the steel and fiberglass of his later years, Turnbull’s experiments from 1974 onwards started small and expanded into a new series of idols. Where his earlier work was characterised by a rough and textured surface, the forms he created in the 1970-80s were predominantly smoother and more meditative.
Turnbull’s pathway was far from typical for an artist. Son of a shipyard engineer, born in 1920s Dundee, he took on many labouring jobs whilst growing up, but also began to paint commercial posters as a side job, which gave him a taste for art and aesthetic. At night, he took art classes and soon became an illustrator at DC Thomson, the publisher of The Dandy and The Beano. After the war, Turnbull was finally able to join the Slade School of Fine Art in London, gravitating toward the sculpture department where he soon befriended fellow Scot Eduardo Paolozzi.
As part of the radical Independent Group at the ICA in London, he was driven not by their interest in the development of Pop Art, but rather by their attention to the history and philosophy of art. Turnbull’s work reached an international audience in 1952 when he was part of the seminal display at the Venice Biennale, New Aspects of British Sculpture, selected by ICA President Herbert Read. During the 1960s and 1970s Turnbull was highly celebrated by an American audience; he was represented by the Marlborough Gallery in New York alongside Willem de Kooning, Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko and his works were bought by prominent US collectors. Both his sculptures and paintings have been widely described as timeless by art critics, collectors and fellow artists.
Created in 1988, Queen 2 is a key work from Turnbull’s later years which saw a reprise of the mysterious totemic bronze works the artist had first experimented with thirty years before. Elegant in its height, shape and delicate slenderness, Queen 2 takes its form from a variety of inspirations. Commentators have pointed to the natural forms similarly explored in Leaf Venus, but also to sacred ritualised objects found in distant cultures. Most notably, art historian Roger Bevan has likened the pointed teardrop shape to a ‘churinga’: a totem used by Aboriginal tribes in Australia. Marked with complex codes and symbols, these sacred objects are used within celebrations to communicate and present the history of their community, as well as passing on mystical knowledge.
Symbols similarly adorn Queen 2: the elongated bronze spear-head shape has intricate and abstract marks carved into the front, as though relics from an ancient and lost language, with no key to decode them. Amongst these markings, three triangular shapes stand out, forming what could be read as a representation of the female body, or even a facial structure. The anthropomorphic title Queen 2 also alludes to the strongly minimalist reduction of the human form, in this case a towering and elegant queen figure. This simplification of form, and subtle hints at features, such as the suggestion of a nose, or subtle pinning in of a waist, is typical of his sculptural work, and encourages the viewer to draw closer in order to complete their interpretation.
The linear connecting triangles on the surface of Queen 2 have become a motif much repeated in his iterations of the feminine form. They appear also in Large Spade Venus, 1986; Queen 1, 1987; Large Paddle Venus, 1988; Idol, 1988 and Female Figure, 1989 (sold in these Rooms, 26 June 2017, lot 41, for £497,000). The more complex, almost hectic interrelated lines also carved into Queen 2 are reminiscent of earlier works such as Screwhead, 1957, which has similarly rough lines etched into the surface, bringing together triangles, grids and panels of blank space. Amanda A. Davidson wrote of this mark-making ‘the sculptures invite the viewer to read them while refusing to supply the code to the signs, thus the works open themselves up to multiple and uncircumscribed narratives’ (A. Davidson, The Sculpture of William Turnbull, Much Hadham, 2005, p. 65). Turnbull himself described these geometric markings, which are often mysteriously referential to other markings in his past work, as ‘a symbolic way of taking your eyes around the sculpture’ and has drawn a comparison between the markings and tattoos, commenting, ‘from the very beginning of time, people have decorated their bodies. They tattoo themselves, they paint their eyes and lips’ (W. Turnbull, quoted in ibid., p. 68).
Turnbull’s two sons were expert skateboarders and surfers. Inspired by the simple streamlined shape of the long boards Turnbull must regularly have seen coming through his house, it is easy to recognise the surfboard shape he cited as an inspiration in Queen 2, as well as the skateboard shapes in Ancestral Figure, 1988, amongst others. Turnbull took the simple forms of everyday objects, such as tools, leaves or even surfboards, and transformed them into objects of spiritual contemplation or ‘idols’ as they became known.
Turnbull’s sculptural practice breathed new life after a major retrospective at the Tate Gallery in London in 1973, which proved to be a pivotal moment for his artistic thought. Confronted with such as large selection of his oeuvre gave Turnbull an opportunity to identify the themes and ideas he had consistently worked towards but had not always been consciously aware of. Reflecting in such a way enabled Turnbull to revisit to his original ideas and refine them. He made a glorious return to sculpture after a brief hiatus in the early 1970s, when he believed his ideas had already been taken as far as they could go. Working once more in his early organic materials, rather than the steel and fiberglass of his later years, Turnbull’s experiments from 1974 onwards started small and expanded into a new series of idols. Where his earlier work was characterised by a rough and textured surface, the forms he created in the 1970-80s were predominantly smoother and more meditative.
Turnbull’s pathway was far from typical for an artist. Son of a shipyard engineer, born in 1920s Dundee, he took on many labouring jobs whilst growing up, but also began to paint commercial posters as a side job, which gave him a taste for art and aesthetic. At night, he took art classes and soon became an illustrator at DC Thomson, the publisher of The Dandy and The Beano. After the war, Turnbull was finally able to join the Slade School of Fine Art in London, gravitating toward the sculpture department where he soon befriended fellow Scot Eduardo Paolozzi.
As part of the radical Independent Group at the ICA in London, he was driven not by their interest in the development of Pop Art, but rather by their attention to the history and philosophy of art. Turnbull’s work reached an international audience in 1952 when he was part of the seminal display at the Venice Biennale, New Aspects of British Sculpture, selected by ICA President Herbert Read. During the 1960s and 1970s Turnbull was highly celebrated by an American audience; he was represented by the Marlborough Gallery in New York alongside Willem de Kooning, Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko and his works were bought by prominent US collectors. Both his sculptures and paintings have been widely described as timeless by art critics, collectors and fellow artists.