Why "Dying King"

My first two series of small sculptures in the 1960s were titled "King" and "Queen". These were essentially abstract. In the 70s I inverted the elements that characterized the "King" and that inverted form provided the elements of the subsequent Dying King sculptures.

Several motifs are identifiable influences in the Dying King series of sculptures: the reclining or supine figure [Henry Moore reclining figures / sarcophagus figures], the fragmented or broken figure [Belvedere Torso / Moore's two and three piece reclining figures], the abstracted figure [in every art tradition], and the figure subsumed by landscape forms [hills, caves, valleys, eroded rocks (scholars' rocks)].

The horizontal axis of the work is essential: visual scanning from near to far reveals repetition and variation of edges, lines, surfaces, and masses.

The segments of the torso [thorax, abdomen, and pelvis] constitute the major structural elements of this work, though they are not recognizable representations. The thorax is characterized by a shield or scapula form and by a passageway from from to back, the abdomen by a large cavity opening to the back and by an arch spanning from thorax to pelvis, and the pelvis by bone, valley, and plow-like forms. No more specific representation of the body is intended.

The "Dying King" remains as the vital theme of my work. I have done other good work since the 1988 full-scale sculpture, most fully abstract, but the abstract work does not achieve the peculiar vitality energized by the amalgamation of landscape with the human figure.

So why the title? I have considered re-titling the 1988 piece "Torso/Landscape" which is more explanatory and less given to political, psychological, or mythological associations, all of which are inaccurate and distracting. Yet there it is: the title :"King" seems persistent in much of human history, and perhaps we can associate it with something dignified and substantial in ourselves rather than with those who have attached it to themselves as a symbol of power.

And we die, however dignified and substantial we were. The title reminds us that the work is not entirely abstract and that it reflects our vulnerable bodies and the complex landscape we live in.

I realize that there is some internal contradiction here in not simply numbering the work, leaving it as a visual object, free of conceptual baggage. But, after many years, the title still seems fitting for the work.

Help!

It's hard to sell sculpture. Please let me know if you want to hear some of the reasons.

Recently I sent a letter to the directors or curators of about eight Ohio art museums. Here's the letter. If you have suggestions, please let me know.

Dear _____________

I am a sculptor seeking a permanent museum home for the best works of my career.

My work is conservative rather than innovative, but I have assimilated my influences [primarily Brancusi, Arp, Moore, Calder] well and these are complex and beautiful works, achieved over decades of development. This is substantial abstract work that requires and rewards visual attention.

I am little known apart from those who visit a mountain in Japan ( Dying King '88, Utsukushi-ga-hara Open-Air Museum, Japan: Henry Moore Competition, 1991 ), so I am seeking a museum that appreciates my work and is not deterred by my limited reputation.

Would the __________ Museum be interested in considering this body of work, in part or as a whole, for its collection? I hope that you will be interested in seeing and considering the actual work.

I am sending this letter to museums, primarily in Ohio, and to individuals who might offer useful suggestions. I don't mean to take up the attention of anyone who is not interested in my work, but I will appreciate any responses of interest or advice.

If you find that you are interested in this work, I would ask that you pay particular attention to the Dying King '88. This, with its complex references to landscape and to the reclining torso, is the key work of my career. This body of work is varied and beautiful, and the Dragon Rock (2012) is a late tour-de-force: still, after thirty years, the Dying King remains as the culmination of my effort and the work I am most concerned with preserving.

Sincerely yours,

bruce macadam

[ It might as well be mentioned that this letter elicited only one response, from a curator who said he was too busy. Poets commonly receive rejection notes: this responsiveness appears to be absent from art establishments. Granted, most museums and galleries don't have a lot of extra room for sculpture, and a kind rejection note might generate more unwanted inquiries, complete with pictures. This letter is included here as an example of a hopeless project. Other examples could probably be found on-line under headings like "how to sell your art", "how to generate interest in your work", and such. It might be kind for a foundation to establish a dedicated landfill for unsold art, so future generations of anthropologists could dig there for unrecognized works of interest. ]

Dying King

If you came on this thing in a wild place

you would see that it belongs

with mountains and rivers,

with rocks and grasses,

with hills and valleys,

in any kind of weather.