Trafalgar Square, formerly a mews, has since the 1800s been a public space used for rallies and demonstrations, concerts and protests.
Why is Cock there? Because the Square - as well as having Nelson's Column , stone lions, fountains, the National Gallery and the church of St Martins in the Fields - has four plinths. Three carry statues of notable men from earlier centuries, but then the money ran out. The fourth plinth remained empty until 1999 when a series of specially commissioned artworks began to occupy the space, each with a tenure of 18 months. Marc Wallinger's Ecce Homo, a life-sized figure of Christ, hands bound behind his back and wearing a crown of barbed wire, was the first to fill the plinth. In 2005 Marc Quin's marble statue Alison Lappert Pregnant was a powerful torso/bust of an artist who had been born with no arms and shortened legs. Yinka Shonibare's Nelson Ship in a Bottle 2010 (4.7etres long) is a replica of Nelson's flagship Victory.
And now a giant rooster (15.4ft tall) has taken up his perch. The photo can't do justice to his size: he's a mini Trojan horse. I'm sure you could get two or three people inside. His grandiose posturing is said to mimic the military gentlemen and grandees occupying the other plinths. The brilliant Kleinian blue seems to zing through the air and spin through the grey and whitish buildings of the Square, the azure sky (at the moment) and the pale aqua of the fountain pools. Otherwise the only colours Cock can see from his perch are the red of passing London buses and the multi-coloured moving dots as tourists amble beneath him.
Some have called Cock 'lively and controversial', others 'a feeble distraction'. I think it's fun, it lifts the spirits, you cannot but smile at the sheer audacity of the creature.
The German sculptor Katherina Fritsch is no stranger to controversy. I fell in love with her work when she had a big exhibition at Tate Modern in 2001. Her sculptures imprint themselves on the mind, as if they were gestalts
of things we have seen and experienced before, touching some of our
deepest fears, reminding us of myths and cultural history. But she transforms them through colour and material into something open and mysterious.
One of many works which stay with me is Man and Mouse (1991-2). A life-sized man is lying motionless in bed. The man and his bed are pure white. On top of him sits a monstrous black mouse. ‘Mousi’ is a German term of affection for a woman. Is it a reference to Henry Fuseli’s painting The Nightmare (1781) in which a male incubus squats threateningly on a sleeping woman? This time the roles are reversed. Is it a sly bit of feminist fun-poking? Or is it an ironic image of unrequited love? Perhaps someone pinned down by a stalker? Or a more general reference to the fears which weigh heavily on us in the night?
One of many works which stay with me is Man and Mouse (1991-2). A life-sized man is lying motionless in bed. The man and his bed are pure white. On top of him sits a monstrous black mouse. ‘Mousi’ is a German term of affection for a woman. Is it a reference to Henry Fuseli’s painting The Nightmare (1781) in which a male incubus squats threateningly on a sleeping woman? This time the roles are reversed. Is it a sly bit of feminist fun-poking? Or is it an ironic image of unrequited love? Perhaps someone pinned down by a stalker? Or a more general reference to the fears which weigh heavily on us in the night?
Though massive and monstrous, the mouse is somehow cute and appealing.The artist writes 'the poor fat heavy mouse is sitting on him, with its little eyes open, wide awake, and could actually crush him to bits but doesn't want to...that is an image of a completely unbalanced relationship in which two persons are missing each other completely. It's a terrible image but I find it funny as well'.
No comments:
Post a Comment