I was dining in the front room of Fanelli’s one night when two very tall, young, attractive people came in, looked around, and then went outside, where they were joined by a couple of friends who were also tall, young, and prepossessing. Watching them through the window, I felt I was observing an evolutionary step on our way to becoming Homo sapiens 2.0. I was reminded of that group when I visited Thomas J Price’s large figurative sculptures in his exhibit Resilience of Scale, currently on view a few blocks away on Wooster Street at the Soho gallery of Hauser & Wirth. I remembered the group not only because the five bronze figures on display are tall – they range from 8.5 feet to 12 feet high – but also because I think Price is helping to evolve large-scale representational sculpture. His approach to figurative work is conceptually astute. He skillfully integrates the use of digital technologies with traditional techniques. He is pushing boundaries in nuanced and playful and provocative ways, and it’s exciting to witness.
In keeping with the sizable work, the exhibition title, “Resilience of Scale,” is itself expansive. It clearly refers to the large dimensions of the sculptures. Scaled up, the figures retain their proper proportions and casual attitudes. In a large space like Hauser & Wirth, you are almost tricked into thinking they are normal sized. It’s disorienting when you see an actual person next to them.
More subtly, the title implies the strength and resiliency found in scaling-up communities, which this work seems to be doing on a global scale. Price is a British artist working in London. Besides mounting shows and installations of his work in the U.K., his large sculptures have made appearances around the world, including Australia, The Netherlands, San Francisco, and Philadelphia.
(A large sculpture called “Grounded In the Stars” has been installed in Times Square and will be on display until June 17th. Also in Times Square, Price is screening short and disarming, stop-motion videos called the “Man Series.” These are shown nightly from 11:57 pm to 12 am until May 31st. It’s worth looking them up online if an in-person viewing isn’t possible.
The sculptures at Hauser & Wirth have an anti-monumentalism that prompts inquiries on multiple levels. Intellectually, we wonder what they mean. Sensually, we ask how they make us feel. Aesthetically and historically we question how they compare and contrast to other large figurative works.
Starting with the last question, the most obvious difference is between the people Price chooses to present and the people large bronzes usually depict. Our world is dotted with commemorative monuments and statues of cultural, political, historical or allegorical figures, usually White men in period clothes or women swathed in complicated drapery. Price’s sculptures of Black men and women enlarge the pool of people we see represented in public spaces, galleries and museums. Rather than basing the works on single individuals, Price combines attributes from multiple real people whom he’s met or seen in photographs to create fictional composites. He refers to them as “characters,” and like a director he casts them in roles. As a result, they come across as relatable and familiar. We see them in private moments with eyes closed, or looking at their phones, or gazing off into the distance. They are dressed in clothes we or our neighbors might wear. By not immortalizing an individual, these composite identities become egalitarian mirrors.
Within the context of art historical figurative works, we can look at the group of standing figures through the dichotomy of contrapposto and kouros poses. In art terminology, the word “contrapposto” in Italian or “counterpoise” in English describes the “S” shaped movement of a body when weight is concentrated mostly on one leg. One side of the pelvis hikes out and the opposite shoulder hikes up, resulting in dynamic diagonals and beautiful curves. Classical examples are the “Venus de Milo” from the Greek Hellenistic period and Michelangelo’s “David”.
Two of Price’s sculptures employ contrapposto: “Time Unfolding” and “As Sounds Turn to Noise.” Both female figures wear close-fitting outfits. Barring recent red-carpet trends, we usually don’t see public nakedness, but leggings and sports bras are common inside and outside of gyms. Both figures strike poses that are inwardly focused. In “Time Unfolding” the figure is looking down at a cell phone, her active arm comfortably resting on the other arm that is drawn across her waist. The pose feels compact and protected. Tendrils of curls in relief delicately frame her face. Viewed from the side you see the beautiful cascade of hair that is gathered behind her and adds another volumetric curve to the flow of anatomical forms. Wrinkles in the clothes at the knees, hips, waist, shoulder and undercuts give a hyper-realistic feeling to the works.
Similarly, in “As Sounds Turn to Noise,” the contrapposto pose is relaxed and natural, but where the other sculpture contracts, this pose expands. Elbows jut out as she places her hands backwards on her hips, with her shoulders corralling the long braids that fall below her waist. Her head is tilted to one side, her eyes are closed, and her expression is introspective yet confident. The version on view at Hauser and Wirth has a black patina and was temporarily installed outdoors in San Francisco. A version with a gold surface was shown at the Philadelphia Museum of Art earlier this year in the exhibition The Time Is Always Now: Artists Reframe the Black Figure.
When a standing figurative sculpture is not engaged in axial contortions, the stance is straight. In artspeak, the Greek word “kouros” or the plural “kouroi” describes the ancient Greek, Egyptian-influenced freestanding sculptures of young, naked men, created in dedication to the gods. Those sculptures were not portraits. Instead, they were meant to idealize the concept of beautiful, noble male youths. They stand rigidly with arms at their sides, the left foot slightly forward, and convey no emotions.
The two male figures in the show recall kouroi, but they are clothed. The young man in “A Kind of Confidence” wears a suit. It fits well. His pants break at the ankles above nice shoes, just a bit of shirt cuff shows below the jacket sleeve, he sports a ring on his left pinky and gazes straight ahead into what makes me hope is a bright future. But to be a young Black male, well, there are no guarantees.
The slightly older man in “Within the Folds (Dialogue 1)” comfortably wears sweatpants and a hoodie. Sigh. Hoodies. It’s a painful reality that a piece of clothing is so loaded. The figure gazes ahead without indication of what he’s thinking, but can we look at this work without acknowledging how racial stereotypes affect perceptions of Black people’s bodies in public spaces? What does it mean to be a tall Black man in this society? At 12 feet high, this is the largest piece in the show, yet because of its clothing, it is the softest and most relaxed looking. Price’s work is impressively executed on a technical level but it stands out in its sophistication of creating objects of deep empathy.
The fifth piece, “A Place Beyond,” breaks the pattern of the others by taking a hybrid stance where the female figure is frontal with one foot forward but her head is turned to one side and she gazes into the distance. She is small, she is gold, she is a gem. Her quiet dignity is both contemporary and transcendent.
All of the works have a quiet dignity and feel conjured by some magical process. In reality, they have been laboriously designed using a digital modelling program. There is some grousing in the stodgy part of the art community about using digital programs. We can just get over that. All the decisions you make when modeling figures in clay are there when you work digitally. The beauty of Price’s process is that he can play around with bits and pieces, much the way Rodin would cut up works in wax or plaster and try different arrangements. Sculptors are efficiency experts and have always looked for shortcuts. The introduction of new technologies still leaves plenty of manual work. Price 3D prints the figures in sections. Wax positives of the sections are then cast in bronze. Those parts are welded together, then the weld seams must be chased and the surface polished, and finally multiple layers of a patina or another finish are applied. The pieces take months to make. Someone who isn’t an artist might ask why. I imagine part of the answer is that Price finds joy in the challenge to capture how we can see ourselves in others.
Resilience of Scale isn’t just about the impressive dimensions of these works – it’s about the expansive humanity they contain.
Thomas J Price,’ Resilience of Scale,’ 24 April – 14 June, 2025. Hauser & Wirth New York, Wooster St.
Read more reviews by Sharon Garbe on Artblog.
