I’ve been thinking about sculpture a lot lately (art major) and I was pondering, and marveling, at its history, ex. Bernini (seriously look up Bernini if you don’t know about him, which, by my experience, a lot of people have not) and Michelangelo, and its future. It got me thinking about the possible next progressions of the art form. Then I started thinking about when there might be an end to the possibilities of sculpture. So then I started thinking about it’s limits and I was picturing Bernini’s sculptures, and was caught awestruck by the highly religious subject matter, but I see the faces, and they are exquisitely well done, and I feel for them, I empathize with them and I marvel at how close they are to capturing life itself. But they will never be alive.
Then I realized, that is the final frontier of sculpture. Life. And when I say life I mean self-awareness, or self-consciousness and control. Life is just an experience of the giant mechanism we are placed in, but life requires time. To create a sculpture that is self aware but ultimately, inescapably, self involved. It will change itself to it’s own accord after the moment of creation. I think that is the last act of sculpture. To that sculpture, it must have seemed that it’s creation happened at once, but that would not be the case.
I don’t necessarily believe that there is a god. But if there is an omnipotent being, I imagine him with the mind of a sculptor looking upon his creation knowing all of its inner workings and creation and yet still naive to its destiny.
But then again, I might be biased because I consider myself a sculptor.
P.S. The word sculpture just doesn’t look right after writing it so many times. It’s just strange.