Ron Mueck
Woman with Shopping, 2013
Mixed media
113 x 46 x 30 cm / 44 1/2 x 18
1/8 x 11 7/8 in
Installation view: Fondation
Cartier pour l'art contemporain, Paris, 2013
Photo: Patrick Gries
Artist Quote:
"At
least that way the baby has a hope." ~Ron Mueck
Biography:
Ron Mueck was born in Melbourne, Astralia in 1958. He currently lives and works in Londan, England. He has no formal art training, yet his parents were toy makers where he was able to watch, learn, and perfect his techniques. He grew up making creatures, puppets and costumes in his spare times, experimenting with materials.
His first job was on a children's television show until he was noticed for his talent working with David Bowie in special effects for films such as "Labyrinth," in 1986.
Muck then started his own company in London, making models to be photographed for advertisements. These were dolls that were meant to be photographed from one angle and had an unfinished side to them.
In 1990's Mueck turned to fine art and sculpture and was commissioned to make something highly realistic. At this time he used Latex less frequently and started to work with
silicone and fiberglass resin to achieve the realistic yet enigmatic sculptures that portray humans at key stages in the life cycle., from birth through middle age, to death.
In 1996, Mueck came to the attention of collector Charles Saatchi, who saw his half sized figure of Pinocchio in the studio the painter Paula Rgo. Muck's mother-in-law. Saatchi commissioned more work by Mueck, who began with an
oversized baby, as a response to the birth of his child and the baby's sudden
domination of the household. In 1997, Mueck achieved immediate international
recognition when his Dead Dad appeared in the controversial exhibition Sensation:
Young British Artists from the Saatchi Collection, a show that one critic
summarized as "realism with a vengeance."
In 2000, Mueck became the fifth Associate Artist at the National
Gallery in London.
(http://nga.gov.au/mueck/Bio.cfm)
(http://www.hauserwirth.com/artists/52/ron-mueck/biography/)
Artist statement or Art critic:
Ron Mueck makes ‘realistic’
sculptures. At first this may seem to refer to the fact that his
naturalistically-proportioned figures are awash with signs of both life and
mortality: wrinkles, liver spots, excess fat, mottled skin and brushable hair.
But it’s clear on looking at Mueck’s work that it’s neither the acutely
observed surface phenomena, nor the impeccably formed underlying mass, that
make his sculptures so persuasively lifelike. As he says, ‘I’m just
trying to make them ordinary. I don’t want people to see the wrinkles, just the
person.’ Rather than being wowed by his extraordinary technique, we might
instead forget all about it in favour of imagining the thoughts and feelings of
the figure being depicted. In opposition to the modernist passion for truth to
materials, Mueck invites us to forget that these objects are made of fibreglass
and silicon and, instead, to invest them with life. In doing this, he also
sidesteps postmodernism — by taking human subjectivity seriously. All his
attention to surface detail is at the service of something else. But how might
it be possible to think about what this ‘something else’ is?
Each
of Mueck’s new sculptures depicts a relationship: there’s a giant elderly
couple in swimsuits, the man reclining on the woman’s lap; there’s a half-sized
adolescent boy and girl in casual sportswear, seemingly sweetly head-to-head,
until you discover that the boy is gripping the girl’s wrist tightly behind her
back; there’s a scaled down mother and baby, the baby nestled inside the
mother’s coat, its head sticking out of her collar. All of the works take as
their starting point a moment spotted in passing — something that happened,
unannounced, in public and caught Mueck’s interest. In these works it’s not
just the individuals we might wonder about, but whatever is going on between
them. The ‘something else’ here goes beyond the interiority of a single being
and extends into the invisible forces that link people together. What you see
will depend a great deal on your own inclinations.
The multiple maquettes for
the mother and baby show a number of possibilities. In one, the baby’s face
points outwards. In another the mother looks off to the side. Mueck settled on
an inward-facing baby and forward-looking mother for the final work because, in
his words, ‘At least that way the baby has a hope.’ But a hope of what exactly?
Of seeing and being seen by its mother? Of a response? Of recognition? Although
the mother stares out over the baby’s head as she lugs her shopping along,
there seems a chance that she might look down at some point. The pair are
missing one another — in spite of being literally tied together — but perhaps
not indefinitely.
By seeing and being seen,
recognising and being recognised, addressing and being addressed, babies become
socialised beings. The things that come back from a mother couldn’t come back
from a robot. While our psyches may be constructed from complex networks
of signifiers, they are always signifiers that are problematised by something
else. Becoming a person involves an interrelation; it can’t be done alone. We
absorb the troubled, haunted signifiers of the Other. It’s a flawed and faulty
process — mothers don’t always do what babies want, and vice versa — but the
glitches are as important as the bits that go well. Babies learn by looking and
interpreting, sending out signals — cries, smiles — and trying to piece
together an understanding about the world from whatever comes back. They
speculate in order to develop. Looking at other people, and imagining what goes
on inside them, is an enormous part of how we become ourselves. It’s a painful,
pleasurable, exasperating, fascinating process that begins at birth and, if we
are curious and generous, continues until we die. Artists who can show us
something about that process, who are sensitive to what it means to love,
suffer, worry and be misunderstood, do us a huge favour. They accompany us and
help us to keep looking in a lively way — not only at exteriors, but at the
infinitely captivating forces that underlie and animate them. Ron Mueck is
surely among the best of these artists because he appears to understand so well
how invisible things look. And if we feel that other people can see them too it
makes life far less lonely.
Elements of art:
The three-dimensional additive process of Mueck's art is a fundamental component. He uses perfect proportions of the body, which gives the sculpture balance, yet distorts the scale of the human size. Distorting the realistic scale or perfect proportions of the human body challenges the viewer to look at the familiar in a new way. The realism of the people in the sculptures explores the human in the natural form, conveying emotions, feelings, vulnerability, and alienation. The realism of the proportions of the human body and appearance and distorted scale of size allows the viewer to feel the life within the sculpture and elicit a feeling of empathy, understanding, or connection with the sculpture.
About The Artist's Technique
The magical appeal of Mueck’s hyper-realistic sculptures is the result of a long, meticulous process, which begins with the crafting of a series of small clay models, letting him decide on the figure’s position. When the pose is determined, he makes decisions about scale, often making a series of drawings in different sizes. Next, Mueck sculpts the figure in clay, incorporating all the fine details of expression and skin texture that appear in the finished work. If the artist is making a very large figure (like In Bed), he first creates a metal frame which is then covered by wire mesh and covered in plaster strips before being covered with modelling clay.
When the clay figure is finished, a mould of the sculpture is made using silicone (or in the case of larger works, fibreglass). When using fibreglass, individual hairs are glued into holes that have been drilled by hand. Removing the sculpture from the mould is not an easy process, with the silicone at risk of being stretched or torn. Once removed, Mueck paints finer details (like veins and blemishes) on the surface, by hand, before finally sculpting the eyes, bringing his creations to life. (https://www.nationalgalleries.org/whatson/exhibitions/ron-mueck/about-the-artists-technique)
Connection:
This work of art has a profound statement on how most mothers feel in the most insignificant times of their lives. Many mothers will feel worn down, tired, and insignificant. I feel that that this art piece captures the moment of when a mother under appreciated of the daily activities she must accomplish with a baby. Her eyes tell a story of obstacles, hassles, and defeat. The relationship between the baby and her mother grows as you look into their eyes and see struggles to accomplish her daily chores. The scaled down proportion of size compared to the human body give the daily chore an insignificance to the viewer. Mothers may feel that these daily chores are insignificant or go unnoticed by the family, but it has a profound effect on the baby. You can almost imagine the hassles and obstacles this mother had to endure through the day to keep her baby healthy and happy by looking into her tired eyes and face of defeat. This art piece captures the raw feelings, emotions, and interest of what happened to bring them to this moment. Motherhood is not always enjoyable, it can be tiresome.
Other works from Ron Mueck:
Video: http://nga.gov.au/mueck/
Celebrating
motherhood is a perennial function of art, but to come upon such a vivid
likeness of a naked and heavily pregnant woman in an art gallery is a
confronting experience. Our initial impulse is to avert our eyes, and yet the
powerful presence of Ron Mueck’s Pregnant woman demands our attention.
We are misled into thinking that the larger-than-life woman is alive – for
varnishes and painstaking implants to the fibreglass body and silicone head
achieve a miraculous replication of skin and hair – and are drawn into
identifying with her, into experiencing the sculpture with reference to
ourself.
The
empathetic attraction comes from her size – at twice the height of many
viewers, she seems to monumentalise the human – and from the extreme physical
exhaustion conveyed in her posture, strain marks and facial expression. Her
closed eyes and nakedness invite us to share her inward focus and on the child
she is carrying.
As well as
consulting anatomy texts and photographs, London-based Mueck worked with a
model for three months, beginning when she was six months pregnant. The model
gave birth before Mueck had finished the sculpture.
More
information about the making of Pregnant woman can be found at nga.gov.au/Mueck
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