By Hyon O'Brien
The very first time I felt any real appreciation for sculpture was exactly 30 years ago at the Rodin Museum in Paris, looking at his famous ``Thinker."
Up to that time I had not connected any sculpture with an expression of a slice of life. The Thinker changed my concept of sculpture. Shaped as a sitting man in a solid dark bronze, the figure seemed to be engrossed in life's profound questions and struggles. I remember pressing our older daughter, five at the time, to look at it closely and memorize the sight of that man sitting and thinking so intensely. I was so determined for her to share with me that awesome moment.
The next time I was struck with a similar intensity was looking at Henry Moore's (1898-1986, British) ``Reclining Connected Forms," an abstract rendition of a mother and child piece at the Storm King Art Center in Mountainville, 55 miles (89 km) north of New York City.
This bronze sculpture captured a child inside a mother's sheltering body in the reclining form and evoked a strong emotion in spite of its abstract form. It managed to evoke a universal response to a strong mother and child relationship almost at its primitive level. Somehow I developed a certain affinity to Moore's art so that his work is instantly recognizable. As do all remarkable masters, he has a unique signature that can be recognized even from a distance.
In later years, some Alexander Calder (1898-1976) pieces near the City Hall in Manhattan always stopped me in my tracks to gaze and take in. He redefines my view of urban surroundings with his big and colorful, almost playful pieces.
``Struck by a thunderbolt" best describes my reaction to Antoni Gaudi's (1852-1926) Sagrada Familia (Holy Family Church) in Barcelona, Spain. Influenced by his mother, he early on looked at nature for clues and inspiration for his art. He found that curves not sharp edges and rough crudity best expressed his feelings in his architectural design and sculptures. He worked on the Nativity facade of this amazing church during the later part of his life and the rest of the church is still under construction, expected to be completed by 2026. I will always remember the gentleness and softness that the massive stone structure managed to convey.
Last month, I visited a friend I hadn't seen for 20 years in Seattle, Washington. One of the highlights of my visit was to walk and talk with her at Seattle's many waterfront spots. Upon visiting Myrtle Edwards Park, a narrow old shoreline park named after a city councilwoman, I was impressed by a huge sculpture piece comprised of three giant concrete slabs and three corresponding granite boulders by Michael Heizer (1944- ).
What intrigued me the most was its title: ``Adjacent, Against, Upon." Installed there in 1976, this public art takes up a huge amount of space. One smooth concrete slab has on its top a crude surfaced granite boulder, the second concrete slab has one granite boulder leaning against it, and then the last concrete piece has a granite boulder standing nearby keeping it company.
This image stayed with me for days and I finally yielded to my mind's insistence to write this article on it.
What are the characteristics of a healthy sustainable relationship between people? I thought this sculpture summarized it in a nutshell.
UPON:
A desirable relationship has intimacy, the ``closeness'' nothing can separate or interfere with. This closeness should be its foundation, the quality of strong commitment, respect, trust and accountability with strong sense of responsibility each for the other.
AGAINST:
What we talk about here is the supportive nature of a relationship. One should be able to ``lean against'' the other person in time of weakness and discouragement and feel sheltered. If one has this with another person in the relationship, he/she will not hesitate to call for help at 3 o'clock in the morning in any emergency.
ADJACENT:
In a healthy relationship, one expects the other person to stay close by, ready to give a listening ear, to share moments that are both ``top of a mountain" joys and ``down in the valley" despairing moments. As the Swedish proverb puts it, "shared joy is a double joy and shared sorrow is half a sorrow."
This ``standing by'' for someone allows space for each other and there is no stifling sensation and smothering one resents. As Leo Buscaglia aptly put, ``A loving relationship is one in which the loved one is free to be himself _ to laugh with me, but never at me; to cry with me, but never because of me; to love life, to love himself, to love being loved. Such a relationship is based upon freedom and can never grow in a jealous heart."
To know instinctively when to go away to allow space for the other person and to know when to come closer comes from the deepest understanding of the other person's needs and reflection of a growing and lasting relationship.
Rainer Maria Rilke articulated it very well: "Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue, a wonderful living side by side can grow, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole against the sky."
Yes, even looking at sculptures we can receive advice on life. I am thankful to all the sculptors of past and present for their effort to show us some aspects of our life. Our life becomes richer because of their wisdom.
Hyon O'Brien, a former reference librarian in the United States, has returned to Korea after 32 years of living abroad. She can be reached at hyonobrien@gmail.com.