Word: sculptor
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Ralph Ortiz's Archaeological Find, No. 9, in which the sculptor did the excavator's work in advance; this abomination is composed of a crumpled French Provincial couch clotted with a gory semblance of mangled beef...
Sahara Noses. "I would love to make round, full bodies," says slender Giacometti, 63. "I just want to reproduce nature." Yet fleshing out volume, traditionally a sculptor's delight, appalls him. Said he: "The distance between one side of the nose and the other is like the Sahara." And so his stick figures present the long and the short of man rather than his breadth. As existentialist sculpture, Giacometti's work would be old hat. But, as Manhattan's Museum of Modern Art opens a retrospective of 140 works this week and London's Tate Gallery...
...within the graven image. "Heads, heads, heads!" he cries. "I've been doing nothing but heads for years. I'm no farther along than when I did my first bust at 13. Nothing I do will ever be finished, everything remains just another study." The sculptor maligns himself. Actually, his figures, singly and in groups, stand in ever more complex relationships. Increasingly, he has become discontent to leave his bronzes bare, painting their stark silhouettes as if providing the emperor's new clothes. Scale, too, remains a concern. A foot will bulk large with deliberate elephantiasis...
Died. David Smith, 59, noted U.S. metal sculptor, a onetime auto assembly-line welder who made an art of his trade with huge (up to 20 ft. tall), generally abstract creations, welding together metal bars, sheets, wheels, gears and grilles in a brilliant use of open form that, while long underestimated by the buying public, won him ranking by critics among such better-known sculptors as Calder, Moore and Giacometti; of a fractured skull suffered in an auto accident; in Albany...
...tramp Goldstein may be the elusive prophet Elijah, or perhaps Godot, or God, or the junk sculptor's father. He disappears, and the sculptor searches the city, but fails to find Goldstein, or even to get a fix on his own identity. Instead, the sculptor falls in with Novelist Nelson Algren, who is interviewed at home among portraits of relatives, nudes and famous boxers. To raise everyone's low spirits, a pair of Manhattan abortionists (Severn Darden and Anthony Holland) are flown in to minister to the sculptor's girl friend. In a campy comedy sequence played...