Notes on some Large-scale Works
This powerful and semi-abstract work began as a homage to the albatross, that most legendary of birds. It does not attempt to be literal; it is simply a bird in flight, with all of the attendant symbolism. It carries the burden of its own legends, and offers to carry us with it.
Flight (2018) is a large (2200 x 850 x 750mm) bronze, with powerful wings emanating from strong shoulders, suggestive of the ease with which the albatross can fly over very large stretches of ocean, carrying its message, its questions, its dreams of landfall. . .
Wings have become an integral part of much of Llew's work over the last decade or more. His winged forms suggest the spiritual dimensions of existence, ever more important in our increasingly secular world. With these wings he asks us to consider uplift, transformation, and transcendence, while at the same time this work can be viewed purely as an elemental ode to the magnificent solitary voyager, the toroa / albatross.
Mercury – the Winged Messenger
Llew’s Mercury certainly has wings – big and powerful wings to carry Mercury on his way. The power of the wings has been achieved by moving them, in Mercury’s case more usually associated with his feet and on his cap, to the shoulders, replacing the arms. Large and powerful as he is, he is still fleet-footed, and there is a real sense of movement in his stance. What message he is carrying is open to the viewer to decide. Llew’s work, in particular the angels, do speak of the spiritual aspect of humanity.
Wings often, but not always, attached to bodies, are an integral part of most of Llew’s current output. It is difficult to know exactly what has inspired (and the term is used advisedly) the artist to explore the wing form in its many manifestations (though the Winged Victory of Samothrace, seen many years ago in The Louvre, left an indelible impression). However, in an increasingly secular world, he believes that there is a need to affirm the non-physical dimension of life – the spirit or spiritual. However, neither the physical or spiritual is subjugated to the other in this work rather the two aspects are melded and in balance. Mercury is a bronze work, approximately 1800x1800x1300mm.
Peace is a 2-tonne bronze measuring 2650x2100x1400mm.
It is currently exhibited in Colombo St, Christchurch.
In 2012 Llew made a large bronze, Encircling the Baroque (now installed on the Piazza in Timaru) comprising a circle of life; four human bodies flowing in a circle. Returning to his other major preoccupation – wings – either solitary, on angels, horses or, more conventionally, on birds, he has now scaled up the smaller work, Birds of a Feather which was first carved in wood, and later cast in bronze, into another circle of life – this major bronze work: Peace.
The critic John Ruskin wrote: "For nature is all made up of roundnesses, not the roundness of perfect globes, but of variously curved surfaces. Boughs are rounded, stones are rounded, cheeks are rounded, and curls are rounded; there is no more flatness in the natural world than there is vacancy. The world itself is round and so is all that is in it, more or less, except human work which is often very flat indeed." (The Elements of Drawing). No such charge can be levied here – Peace is a work that speaks of the plump roundness of that avian symbol of love and peace: the dove, within a large circle of roundness.
Doves are most often associated with the concepts of pacifism and civil peace, and Llew is himself a pacifist, coming from a family with a heritage of pacifism; his mother was imprisoned during the Second World War for demonstrating against the war when it was illegal to do so. It is natural then that this trio of birds is emblematic of his belief in peace as the greater, and only, solution. As with Picasso, the work takes a stand for life against death and for peace against war.
The Power and the Glory
The earthquakes that devastated large areas of Christchurch in early 2011, not only shook up the ground, but altered many people’s perceptions of life and its stability. For many it was the most tangible experience of the knife-edge that is life and coming face to face with that has led to some deep-seated trauma. In a flight or fight response, some have left the city and the country, while others demonstrate their resilience by riding the waves of the thousands of aftershocks and getting on with their lives as best they can. For an artist this obviously includes trying to respond to the disaster and create art that somehow deals with it.
In this symbolist work, Llew portrays nature as a horse, towering over a small human, and poised on hind legs ready to crush, if not the man, at least the earth. The man stands his ground, looking up in amazement. The beauty of the horse defuses the otherwise overwhelming fear and there is awe in the contemplation of the sheer force of nature unleashed. The man’s hands are slightly outstretched – are they ready to embrace, or just firmly fixed in a stoic gesture waiting for the inevitable? The horse’s rounded belly is echoed by that of the man and they are thus connected as fellow creatures who inhabit the same environment.
The Power and the Glory was carved in wood, before being cast in bronze and is approximately 625mm high.
With this 2012 work Llew has come full circle to his first preoccupation as an artist; man and woman together. The great television playwright Dennis Potter talked about “ploughing my little patch” in connection with his writing as he continued to re-revisit and explore the universal themes that interested and drove him. Perhaps it is true that all artists have a piece of ground – a patch – that is theirs and that, in one form or another, they are compelled to continuously find new ways of treating.
So, Llew’s themes are men and women, their need for one another and the pleasure and joy that is a most welcome part of that equation. The connection of human beings to one another is a high point in their existence – the importance of which was emphasised by British novelist EM Forster in the epigram at the beginning of his fine novel Howard’s End: Only connect.
This is not to leave out spirituality from the mix and for Llew the Lord of the Dance is self-evidently present in this couple’s embrace. It is a work that is both joyous and full of engagement as the couple is absorbed in their dance of life with total commitment both to the dance and to each other – to the end.
It is now, with the maturity of many years of sculpting, as demonstrated by the sureness of line and certainty of modelling, that such a work can be scaled from its initial creation as a small ceramic into a work of such compelling substance and stature.
To the End of Love
To the End of Love stands just over 2 metres in height, is 1400 mm wide and 900 deep. The title of the work comes from the Leonard Cohen song, Dance Me to the End of Love.
Wings often, but not always, attached to bodies, are an integral part of most of Llew’s recent output. In Heaven Sent the slightly stylised nature of the wings contributes to its overall form being in the shape of a cross.
Llew’s primary artistic interests and concerns are twofold: the sensual or real physicality of the body and the spiritual aspect of humanity. Neither is subjugated to the other in this work rather the two aspects are melded and in balance. Like any work its interpretation is properly left open to the viewer but it can be viewed as the soul flying down to meet the body. Another viewer might see the lower figure of the male looking (or aspiring) to heaven. In an alternative interpretation of this idea, the male could even be calling to his muse, or the combining of the male and female spirit.
Heaven Sent is around 2200x1100x600mm and is cast in bronze.
The Burden of Wings
The Burden of Wings continues Llew's recent exploration of wing forms: sometimes a single wing, but more often combined with the human form. The angel bears the moral weight of her wings and the wings in some sense could represent the cross.
To have been made an angel brings with it a moral imperative to take an ethical position - to stand up for what is right. This particular angel, unlike most seen historically in painting and sculpture, does not have arms; the wings have fully taken the place of those, in this case, superfluous appendages.
The work is in Takaka marble and is around 1300x600x500mm.
Ariel is a further development of Llew’s fascination with winged forms; both for their simple beauty and for their angelic – or spiritual – resonance. In this case it is the sheer beauty of the wing form – abstracted from its connection to a body – that has been the starting point for its creation. Ariel , a character in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, is a spirit of the air – and this wing, though unattached, or detached, from a bird or angel requires air to bring it fully to life, to become aerial / airborne, to enable it to fly. Extremely tactile and of magnificent stature, it seems ready and capable of flight. It wants to soar and is a metaphor for humanity which, without air, cannot exist and which also aspires to rise above the earthly to connect with its spirituality.
The work is 2300x1700x66mm and is cast in bronze.