Brian O'Dwyer 

Eliot’s observation that “human kind cannot bear very much reality” is a good reason for the existence of art… a good reason for the ongoing battle between art and reality. In Sculpture art starts of with stuff; and in Sculpture, stuff includes space. Stuff is real but is transformed by art into a double existence, of being two things at once - a rock and an idea. In order to accept a picture as believable, its frame provides a border between the reality of the wall and the reality of what is portrayed. With abstract sculptures the means of support, the base, has an obligation to be seen as part of the whole. With figure sculpture the pedestal performs the function of the frame. An unfortunate result of the pedestal is that it turns its figure into the side annex of viewing the work as ART and its consequent artificiality divorces it from our imagination. Figure sculpture is, by its traditions, tied to the ideal. From childhood I went from worship of the classic Greek to the bouncy Renaissance to hyperrealism, seeking a personal means of expression. But, growing up in the Age of Antihero I found to my surprise the opposite to the ideal was an intriguing endeavour.

The Kriss series attempts to avoid the figure plus base presentation by several means: the figure is not ideal, the proportions are falsified, it is sometimes weightless, sometimes overly massive. The stillness of the pose allows the figure to unite with the support apparatus Mass is the medium.

The Window series uses a different medium; space. The starting configuration with its geometric proportions of rectangle and circle could be that of a written page, or a TV screen or even a portrait bust. The double tilt provides a tension to induce a slight unease. The two sides occupy different scales of space and yet interpenetrate; an attempt to get the better of reality. The figurative elements disarrange space by themselves looking as well as being looked at.

For the other works, one consistent theme has been that of humour. A joke is a proposition of another reality (although the possibility of an alternate universe is no joke). A work of art can operate the same way. A joke asks us to compare our normal understanding with for instance, a ridiculous one – or we may be offered an aesthetic one. Imagination engages us to consider the differences and similarities of our two understandings. The fat man clothed has appeared in thirty-five of my sculptures; the largest being well over two metres and the smallest standing at 2.5 centmetres. He may be an icon, but he is definitely not an ideal. At times he could be a personage of ruthless power, at other times a foolish clown. He could represent an institution or he could be a hapless Everyman. In early works he was a pompous academic. At least half of his appearances carry architectural titles or three-dimensional references to an imaginary Faculty of Architecture. The fat man unclothed is different altogether. Theoretically I am leery of the figure in action – be ware the frozen moment! Yet he is for me a kind of Atlas with a big belly, ironic, but still a powerful primitive force. I enjoy turning stuff into something that never was – to use the irrational to go beyond the explicable and thus allow people to find from these sculptures a rhyme to complete their own verse. Brian O'Dywer