From the start, I loved the location...

right in the middle of traffic, alone, without

any other context.

 

on a small island created by the

angular conjunction of two adjoining

street grids. The plot was in one of two

voids that resulted from splicing 4 street

approaches together with 5 intersections.

 

plenty of sidewalks and the entrance

to one of Atlanta’s signature hotels

provided pedestrian access... though

essentially, exposure to the work would

be vehicular;  fleeting and, for many locals,

repetitive.

 

. . . . . . .

 

I wanted to make your awareness of

the piece from one direction radically

different than from any another.

 

I wanted moving around the sculpture to be

a continuous transition, revealing and

enigmatic, capable of surprise and

new observations, even over time.

 

. . . . . . .

 

The contradiction of the piece is basically

between observing the work as an object,

with shapes and surfaces that vary as you

move around it, and thinking about the

work as a subject, a figure, trailing all the

questions we consider because of that.

 

When you view the piece from certain

points, the figurative presence is enough

that you can overcome its cropping and

project the wholeness of the figure

into the space beyond the forms you can

actually see. That sensation brings a feeling

of symmetry and animation that really isn’t

present at all in the structure of the piece.

 

So, depending on where you are in the

space around the sculpture, the balance

between what’s in your head and what’s in

your vision varies and promotes different

assumptions and perspectives.

 

For example:

 

The natural sense of balance and

symmetry we project on the human

element is contradicted by the cantilevering

of the whole upper part of the sculpture

from a narrow, almond-shaped connection

at the top of the left leg. Without the hidden

and constant structural strength at just that location, the whole upper portion of the piece would simply fall down...hardly the

impression the figure itself presents.

 

. . . . . . .

 

I framed my only narrative clue about

my position in the drama between the

sculptural and figurative forms by one

particular act:

 

...just where I sliced the figure’s head

away and what expression I gave to

the remaining portion of the face.

 

I thought that my cut would seem the

most dramatic if placed right at the tip

of the nose. But because that’s a pretty

brutal move, I was determined that nothing

in the facial expression reinforced an

implication of violence or negative intent.

The subject itself would clearly show no discomfort or even acknowledgement

of that act.

 

. . . . . . .

 

I left a hand print in the plaster to be

cast with the outside of the left leg. I

did it as an personal act of graffiti, to break

the narrative surface tension of the

whole piece but also, like my prehistoric

predecessors, just to mark my spirit

in place and time.

 

. . . . . . .

 

didn’t especially like the idea of placing

the piece on a pedestal, but I just had to

get it up above the traffic.