Sculpture as an exponential branch of the traditional art was perhaps one of the most discussed topics during the cultural currents that swept over the world.
Impressive, revolutionary and elegant but also a spectacular way of freeing the beauty trapped in matter, the sculpture became during the last century a challenge of making the spectacular tangible.
The abstract has left its print over the sculpture world and so did the spectacular and weird. The hunger of creating art that does not imitate life or on the contrary that imitates it to perfection was certainly a challenge worthy of trying.
DEFINING SCULPTURE
Before the turn of the twentieth century, nearly all sculptures in the Western fine art
tradition were three‐dimensional representations of recognizable objects, most
often human figures. Most sculptures were freestanding objects, though bas‐relief
sculpture on buildings and altarpieces also constituted a notable form. Sculptures
were typically static objects made of durable materials such as stone, bronze, clay
and wood.
But over the past century, the range of sculptural materials, subject matters and
practices has exploded. Many sculptures, such as the abstract works of Barbara
Hepworth or Louise Nevelson, are not obviously representations of objects, even
imaginary ones. Kinetic sculptures, unlike their static predecessors, involve
movement and, sometimes, sound elements. Installation artworks frequently
involve an immersive environment that we explore by moving through it, rather
than an object that we view by circling it; and they may incorporate multimedia
elements such as film and video. Earthworks involve interventions, sometimes on a
very large scale, in exterior landscapes. Sculpture includes all of these developments,
since they are outgrowths of earlier sculptural traditions and practices. At the same
time, we should maintain the traditional divisions separating sculpture from
painting and architecture, and to distinguish sculpture from performance art, which
raises interesting but distinct issues. Sculptures must also be distinguished from
three‐dimensional non‐art objects, no small feat now that artists have begun to
incorporate a wide array of artifacts into their work. Sometimes a snow shovel is
just a snow shovel; other times it is Marcel Duchamp’s (1915) In Advance of the
Broken Arm.
A simple, neat definition of sculpture is thus precluded by the great diversity of
sculptural works and by the complex contours of the boundaries that distinguish
sculpture from other domains, which are the product more of historical traditions
and practices than of rational calculation. Moreover, there is no defining sculpture
without having already made some decisions about what to include, as indicated
above. And once those decisions have been made, much inquiry about sculpture
could proceed—and has proceeded—by looking at a variety of cases without trying
to unify them under a definition.
.An attempt at definition might, nonetheless, be helpful in allowing us to see where
philosophical inquiry is most needed. So let’s begin here: sculpture is the art form consisting of the articulation or presentation of objects geared centrally toward
appreciation in three spatial dimensions (and possibly the temporal dimension),
excluding substantially constructed buildings and works involving the living human
body.
In claiming that sculptures are “geared toward” rather than “intended for”
appreciation, the definition remains neutral about whether the artist’s intentions or
other factors, such as audience reception or artistic convention, determine the aims
or functions of an artwork. An account of what determines the artwork’s aims would
be needed to flesh out the definition.
The definition expressly includes sculptural works with a temporal component, such
as those with kinetic or time‐based media elements. It also nods to the fact that our
appreciation even of static sculpture is typically temporal in a special way, involving
our movement around or through the sculpture as we gain access to features that
are not available, even in principle, to a momentary glance. (See Martin 1981:
chapter 2.) It distinguishes sculpture from painting by invoking appreciation in
three spatial dimensions; while paintings are three‐dimensional objects, in standard
cases appreciation focuses on their (approximately) two‐dimensional surfaces. The
definition roughly separates sculpture from three‐dimensional arts such as
furniture and pottery by stipulating that sculpture is geared centrally toward
appreciation, as opposed to functions such as supporting the human body or
containing other materials. This division is somewhat porous, as it must be. It allows
that pottery and furniture geared centrally toward appreciation, rather than or in
addition to use, will count as sculpture. The definition roughly distinguishes
sculpture from architecture by ruling out substantially constructed buildings,
leaving open the possibility that some works of architecture that are not
substantially constructed buildings may occupy the boundary between the two
categories.
The
The distinctions between sculpture and other sorts of three‐dimensional artifact
might be firmed up by offering an account of the specific sort of appreciation that is
appropriate to sculpture. As discussed below, such accounts, which are often
especially concerned with the distinction between painting and sculpture, tend to
appeal to the role of touch and bodily or spatial awareness in the appreciation of
sculpture. In order to distinguish sculpture in the appropriate ways from furniture,
jewelry, couture and pottery, these accounts would need to be supplemented with
an understanding of the role of critical engagement in the appreciation of sculpture
as art: we appreciate sculptures not just by considering their effects on our physical
or spatial awareness, but also by considering them in light of specific artistic, art
theoretic and art historical traditions. To appreciate a sculpture as art, then, is to
engage with it critically in light of these traditions even while experiencing its bodily
or spatial effects.
A final note is that our definition leaves open the possibility that Duchamp’s In
Advance of the Broken Arm is not, in fact, a sculpture. If the work does not have appreciation in three dimensions among its central aims—if, instead, its central aim
is to prompt reflection on the boundaries of art, or to emphasize the artist’s
audacious gesture in presenting a purchase from the hardware store as an
artwork—then it may not be a sculpture despite involving a three‐dimensional
object.
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