Anna McNay

Review of Thomas Houseago: I’ll be your sister and Special Brew at Hauser & Wirth London

03/10/12

Thomas Houseago: I’ll
be your sister

Hauser & Wirth
London, Savile Row, North Gallery

and

Thomas Houseago:
Special Brew

Hauser & Wirth
London, Savile Row, South Gallery

7 September – 27
October 2012

“A show is a necessary evil,” bemoans Thomas Houseago (born
1972), readily agreeing with his progenitor Constantin Brâncusi (1876-1957)
that the best show of an artist’s work is in his studio. Nevertheless, Houseago
is currently exhibiting at both Hauser & Wirth galleries in London’s Savile
Row, as well as Hauser & Wirth Zürich (which was added at the last moment
when it was discovered that there was not enough room for all of his new works
in London), and the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts in Norwich, an intense
undertaking for which he “went through so much fog and mist” and “often
regretted taking them on.” The outcome, however, is phenomenal, and I am sure
that visitors, who would otherwise not be able to enjoy Houseago’s monumental,
terrifying, and yet vulnerable figurative sculptures in his studio, will not
leave disappointed.

When Houseago arrived in London for his foundation course
back in the early 1990s, he considered himself a performance artist, and this
side of his character remains well evidenced in his sculptures to this day.
Working typically with low-grade materials such as plaster, hemp, and iron
rebar, and leaving gaping holes and rips, so that the internal structure is
visible to all, finger prints, fist marks, and shoe prints are also evident
across the surface, testament to the creative process. Houseago himself
acknowledges the “highly sexual activity” of making a sculpture, which is “a
bit like fighting, also, or dancing,” referencing particularly the squeezing of
the clay.

At the Hauser & Wirth London shows, visitors can enjoy
some of the very best of Houseago’s works. The walls of the south gallery are
hung with six reliefs, including Face
Panel II (Landscape)
(2012), where the features are built up like plasticine
sausages, and creases are scraped out by hand; Hands/Feet Panel (Walking Man) (2012), a bronze with giant-sized
hands and feet protruding, recalling the marble head,
hand, and foot fragments of the colossal statue of Constantine at the Palazzo
dei Conservatori in Rome; and Finger
Panel I
(2012), where the various components appear like large-scale
anatomical studies.


From the centre of the floor tower a selection
of imposing, free-standing works, including 2
Fingers
(2012), one of which is almost as tall as me, and Standing Owl I (2012), with his hollowed
out eye socket revealing the interior of the structure, with its iron rebar
skeleton, covered, just about, by a rough plaster skin. This anatomical
revelation is also apparent in the case of Sleeping
Boy I
(2012), who lies on his back in a small side room, his face like a
skeleton, eyes hollow, and looking altogether flayed, torn muscles and tissues
on display. Contrarily, however, the pure white colour of the plaster seems at
odds with this sense of violence, clean and serene.


A few doors down, in the north gallery, stand
a further six giants. In the window are three penis
columns, one of which, Portrait Column I (2012)
towers proudly, suggestive of a Swiss Guard. Walking Figure I (City) (2012) picks up on the theme of anatomical
studies, taking a close look at the mechanics of movement and the working of
joints.

Most impressive, however, is the juxtaposition
of the cowering, white plaster Sitting
Woman
(2012), huddled as if vulnerable and seeking to protect herself (and
perhaps, indeed, she is), seated in the shadow of the immense black bronze Striding Figure II (Ghost) (2012), a
threatening, dark, and imposing monster, who yet, because of his charred
appearance, and the way in which his bare bones need the support of struts from
within, is perhaps equally fearful and fragile. The question is suggested:
tormentor or tormented?


According to Houseago, the best time to see
his shows is at midnight, looking in through the windows, when they are lit up
from the street lamps outside and throwing shadows. This may well be a striking
sight, but I recommend a visit during opening hours too, to stand below the
figures, overlapping your shadow with theirs, and marveling at the
contradictions of strength and fragility, power and weakness, pride and
vulnerability.



Images:


Thomas Houseago

Installation view, ‘I’ll be your sister’, Hauser & Wirth London, Savile Row, North Gallery, 2012

© Thomas Houseago

Courtesy the artist and Hauser & Wirth

Photo: Alex Delfanne


Thomas Houseago

Installation view, ‘Special Brew’, Hauser & Wirth London, Savile Row, South Gallery, 2012

© Thomas Houseago

Courtesy the artist and Hauser & Wirth

Photo: Alex Delfanne


Thomas Houseago

Installation view, ‘I’ll be your sister’, Hauser & Wirth London, Savile Row, North Gallery, 2012

© Thomas Houseago

Courtesy the artist and Hauser & Wirth

Photo: Alex Delfanne


Thomas Houseago

Striding Figure II (Ghost)

2012

Bronze

505.5 x 181.6 x 315 cm / 199 x 71 1/2 x 124 in

Installation view, ‘I’ll be your sister’, Hauser & Wirth London, Savile Row, 2012

© Thomas Houseago

Courtesy the artist and Hauser & Wirth

Photo: Alex Delfanne