Inquisitive, creative, enthusiastic...

Ever since I can remember I have had the urge to discover how and why things are what they are. As a child, the first thing I would do with any new toy would be to take it apart to discover how it worked. This was much to my father's disapproval, so I became rather good at putting things back together again so the crime would not be detected. I took my bicycle apart and re-arranged it with cow-horn handlebars, and no mudguards. It looked great; my father did not think so. In my early 20s I had moved on to my car and was fascinated by the workings of every part of it. As well as taking it apart, every last nut and bolt (and reassembling it!) I studied automotive engineering both theory and practical at night school for many years. Not for any qualification, just for the desire to learn. That desire is still with me today but it goes further than the physical form in front of me. I find myself asking the 'why' question.

I have spent my entire working life in the design and publishing industries in one shape or form. Being creative is what I enjoy the most and until very recently that creative force has always lead to a finite outcome whether that be writing a book, designing an advert, designing and building a piece of furniture or a garden building. It has all had a purpose over and above its aesthetic. I have dabbled in 'art' for arts sake once or twice but never got very far as I find it very hard to let go of the practicalities of life. 

The Striding Man

My first dealings with contemporary art was on my first day at secondary school. I walked into the school and there in the centre of the space between the house block, technical block and the school hall stood a piece by Oliffe Richmond. Commissioned in 1959 and installed in 1962,  the sculpture is made of bronze, six feet high, stood on a concrete plinth and depicts a stooping figure.

Richmond (1919-1977) came from Tasmania in 1948 and later worked for Henry Moore before embarking on a teaching career. His work is not so well known, but this is one of the pieces commissioned by the London County Council, the leading patron of public art in the period 1945-65. The sculpture has been removed from its original position in recent years when the school was redeveloped and renamed. I believe the sculpture is still on sight, but I have yet to confirm this.

As an eleven year old schoolboy I was curious about the strange lump of metal but became oblivious to it as it was just there. In September 1967, on that first day at school, I had no idea of its significance or where it came from - it was just The Striding Man.

In 1965 when the the Greater London Council (GLC) became the administrative body for Greater London. It replaced the earlier London County Council (LCC) and inherited  the patronage of the visual arts scheme. In 1970, under this scheme, the GLC purchased Two Forms - Divided Circle by Barbara Hepworth and erected it in Dulwich Park. This was not only on my way home from school but it created a huge discussion locally as it had cost an eye-watering £14,850 a huge amount at the time, and this was said to have been taking into account a 25% discount negotiated with Hepworth herself.  I can remember the outcry at the time, not least of all from my father, who again was convinced that this was not art.

This was casting no. 5/6 - The last casting as they were numbered from 0/6

From my point of view, I could see this was art but I was totally blown away buy the price paid. You could buy a decent sized house in London for that and indeed my parents did just that, bought a three-bedroom house for £14.500 a few years later in 1975. If at the time I had realised it was one of six castings, I may have been even more tempted to side with my father being astonished at the fact that a government agency could spend so much money on a modern sculpture. I was starting to appreciate sculpture a bit more. I could see how much thought and work had been put into the piece.

Equivalent VIII

Then, in 1976 my father was, in his eyes, vindicated. Four years earlier the Tate had bought Equivalent VIII. The work had been displayed a couple of times with no attention paid to it. Then on the 15th February, 1976 the Sunday Times published an article about the work that started a huge backlash against the Tate's decision to spend "taxpayers money" on a pile of bricks. In the ensuing days, the story was taken up by several newspapers, perhaps most negatively by the Daily Mirror, the front page of which declared, ‘Whichever way you look at Britain’s latest work of art… what a load of rubbish’

I must admit, I was finding it hard to relate to such a 'work' after all, I could have done that. What was even worse, as my father so rightly said, he could have done it! I was now totally confused and it was several decades before I could take contemporary art seriously again. Today, in my early sixties, I have a mature head to revisit all these things and research the stories behind the art and the artist. I plan to put into physical form a few of the ideas I have had over the years and see where that leads me.

Ralph.