I fell in love with the work of the Romanian-born sculptor
Constantin Brancusi who lived most of his life in Paris.
Last week I returned from a trip to Paris and visited the Brancusi Museum, built next to
Pompidou Centre, that houses much of his work. It is not so much a museum as a sacred
space and my visit felt more like a pilgrimage than a tourist visit. The museum
recreates his original atelier where he worked for 50 years. The main
difference is that the external walls are now glass. The contents of his studio
have been faithfully arranged as Brancusi stipulated in his will when he left
his work to the French state that his workshop be rebuilt as it was on the day
he died.
Seeing his sculptures alongside the tools of his trade
creates a powerful environment. His sculptures are very simple yet there is a
compelling, almost hypnotic quality to them. His fellow artists testify to his
remarkable work. Barbara Hepworth described, on visiting his studio in 1932, “the
miraculous feeling of eternity mixed with beloved stone and stone dust”. She
goes on to describe the inspirational character of Brancusi and his workshop
and reflects on her own feelings to what she beheld: “all this filled me with a
sense of humility hitherto unknown to me”.
I took many photographs of Brancusi’s work and his studio as
it felt like a unique opportunity to capture a bit of the spirit of the place (although
sadly the photographic quality may not be that good as the photographs were
taken with an old iphone and through the glass walls).
Interestingly, and to my surprise, I found the act of taking
images made me more aware of the sublimity of his sculptures. Each image
revealed a subtle aspect of his sculpture that was not so evident shielded
behind a glass wall. Although I could only spend an hour there the experience
has left a powerful imprint on my memory.
Constantin Brancusi is not a well-known artist in the UK yet
his influence is immense. He is known as the “patriarch of modern sculpture”.
He is perhaps best known for his philosophy of “Truth to Materials”. He sought
to understand and express the intrinsic nature of the materials he used. His
philosophy was adapted by the British Arts & Crafts movement and is a value
that I have regarded as part of the craftsman’s ethos. However, it was when I
was researching and experimenting on Ideas
in the Making that this approach began to expand into new dimensions.
I’ll stop here as I plan to develop the theme in Ideas in the Making for my Oxfordshire
Artweeks Open Studio exhibition (weekends 14/15 and 21/22 May). I will also be
putting some examples of Ideas in the
Making on my website soon.
