Readings
Naomi Evans, Stephen Ralph: Life is long, The Commercial, 2021
"It is certainly a miracle that a formless block of stone could ever have been reduced to a perfection that nature is scarcely able to create in the flesh."
Giorgio Vasari on Michelangelo’s Pietà (1498-99), St Peter’s Basilica, Rome.1
The three sculptures presented in Stephen Ralph’s solo
exhibition Life is Long at The Commercial are the culmination of three years’
work, starting in 2018 with the challenge of procuring marble from a remote
quarry in Chillagoe, located 300kms inland from Cairns in Far North Queensland.
Once a thriving mining town, now a few marble quarries and a small zinc mine
are operated by a population of about 250 people. The 7 tonne block selected by
Ralph was received in Sydney by the end of 2018 where its colossal size
impelled Ralph to build from scratch a piece of equipment that was capable of
sawing the marble into manageable pieces without compromising its structure.
During 2019 and 2020, Ralph cut several large sections from
the block. Who could have known that a material so deeply associated with the
so-called seat of Western civilization would also be found in great chunks
across the country of the Wakaman people2 with a colour comparable
to the Carrara marble favoured by sculptors of the Renaissance. And yet, of
course, it is an absurdity to think any place on earth was not the result of
geological processes, pressures and forces. The timelines of stones far eclipse
mortal histories.
The new sculptures by Stephen Ralph are titled Looking for
love, How to sleep and More dust, and all completed in 2020-21. In the way that
the exhibition title elicits a sense of time as distended and subjectively
experienced, so too the name of each work is for Ralph ‘a metaphor for
eternity’.3 The figures are redolent with sensuality and physical
details that recall old myths like Pygmalion and Galatea, or stories of dryads
emerging from trees. The whiteness of this Chillagoe marble, however, allows
for the remarkable, lifelike representations to be read as abstractions; even
with their fine grey veins and the occasional birthmark in iron rust, no living
tree or being ever appeared with this pallor. Ralph’s coaxing of limbs from
rock is a study in light and shadow, phrasing the light-emitting radiance of
marble in contrast with deep modelling, or areas of waxy polish and jagged
chisel strikes.4
The way certain art materials are intrinsically vulnerable
to damage is described by art conservators as their ‘inherent vice’. In Life is
Long, Ralph’s marble never gives away its risks overtly, however the forms he
echoes quote from 16th century sculptures; the tree stumps and logs which are
set behind or beside figures served a function that was more than allegorical.
Marble is soft when first cut, though it hardens over time to produce an
extremely durable stone. When humanist Italian sculptors made marble copies of
Hellenic bronzes, they conceived of methods to provide robustness, including
supportive buttresses and struts to mitigate against the risk of fracture. As
Ralph observed, more often than not, these took the form of tree stumps, an
idea that directly gave rise to his first piece in Carrara marble, titled
Stardust (2018).
The provenance of this idea can be traced even further back
to a 2016 sculpture titled My sister’s doll, made from glazed porcelain and
carved wood that Ralph exhibited in an exhibition UN LEG, curated by Nick
Strike at 55 Sydenham Rd, Marrickville. The smooth undulating timber was far
from the perfunctory functioning of a peg-leg, and yet the analogy between legs
and logs with surrogate structural or formal operations was there in its
nascency.
Ralph’s earliest artworks drew on his training in carpentry
and from an interest in built architecture. His oeuvre has included series that
feature windows, doorways, pedestal carvings and his highly regarded column
works that explored the Surrealist’s exquisite corpse method in three
dimensions. The new group of marbles likewise hold with his sustained interest
in engineering structures, and the observation that the framework that makes a
narrative possible has a complex and intertwined relationship with final form
of a composition
In Life is long, Ralph’s marble sculptures explore lines of
transformation and states of flux that we can appreciate in the ‘S’-like shapes
synonymous with contrapposto or dynamic poses. Detailed, naturalistic
figuration frozen in rock coexists with the appearance of uncanny plasticity,
tensioned and arced further into curlicues, ampersands, helixes. Looking for
love, How to sleep and More dust elongate interstitial spaces for exploration.
Logs and legs are no longer disguised as figurative elements and instead morph
one into the other—their fortifying, doubling, and inextricable dimensions are
simultaneous. Engineering considerations are conversely made invisible through
Ralph’s emphasis on the plot line – where plant transforms to human, where
rough bark graduates into smooth epidermis.
It is the relationships between structural components and
concepts like stress points and load that perhaps offer us insight into the
mechanics of Ralph’s art, where unity still allows for individuation. Ralph’s
visionary abilities persuade us that there are riddles still to be drawn out of
megaliths and this aspect makes the existence of these sculptures all the more
rare in the era of early 21st century contemporary art.
1. Giorgio Vasari, The Lives of the Artists’ (First edition 1550), translated by Julia C. Bondanella, and Peter Bondanella. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998
https://britishinstitutehoa.files.wordpress.com/2014/05/vasari-the-life-of-michelangelo.pdf, last accessed 11 May 2021
2.Register of Native Title Claim by Wakaman People (#5), lodged 26 March 2018, http://www.nntt.gov.au/searchRegApps/NativeTitleClaims/RegistrationDecisionDocuments/2018/May/Q C2018_001-1%2002052018.pdf, last accessed 14 May 2021
3. Stephen Ralph email to author, 13 May 2021
4. For a thoughtful exploration of Vasari’s hagiography of Michelangelo, consider Stephen J. Campbell, ‘"Fare una Cosa Morta Parer Viva": Michelangelo, Rosso, and the (Un)Divinity of Art’, The Art Bulletin, Vol.84, No.4, 2002, College Art Association (CAA), New York, pp.596-620