Doug Cocker An Introduction to the sculpture of Peter Bevan 1995

Over recent years Peter Bevan’s sculpture has had an increasingly notable presence in Scottish exhibitions – the Scottish Sculpture Opens; the Royal Glasgow Institute; the Society of Scottish Artists and recently in “SCANDEX”, the curated show of Scottish Sculpture currently in Scandinavia.

I have seen much of his work during that time and have been struck, initially by the energy and consistency of output but principally by the uniqueness of his use of three-dimensional imagery. His work has a signature of its own which confirms the distinctiveness of his voice as an artist.

There is a family of characteristics, some formal, some not, which collectively define that uniqueness of voice.

As a maker of sculpture he clearly takes pleasure from the investigation and use of a diversity of materials; surface treatments; formal devices and range of scale. This richness in diversity conveys very directly his enjoyment in making. (Perhaps his personal history of having been trained as a painter who subsequently turned to sculpture contributes to this relish?).

He says of the process of making, “It now appears once again to be a quite natural and familiar activity with a more exciting sense of discovery, invention and achievement than I had been experiencing in painting”

His freedom of treatment is underpinned by a parallel formal quality – the swell of volume which has a presence in almost all of his works. He displays an instinctive grasp of that quality common to so much authentically “sculptural” sculpture; from Egyptian and Indian through the work of Emilio Greco; Marino Marini to Martin Puryear. Defining the boundaries of sculpture is, of course, a vexed and continuing question and one which is outwith the scope of this essay. However it is gratifying to witness in the work of any sculptor, a concern for fullness of form – that orthodox but timeless quality that is the essence of sculpture.

This concern for volume has inevitably generated opportunity for him to explore and utilise internal space as in works such as “CORK BODY” or as the keystone of the work, “GAZEBO”, his most recent contribution to the Scottish Sculpture Open 8. It is possible, or indeed likely, that his engagement with volume has necessarily sprung from the demands of his principal chosen medium, ceramic hand-building. The ebb and flow of poetry and pragmatism which has traditionally conditioned the designing of sculpture has always generated a two-way flow – does the idea confirm the sculpture, or does the sculpture confirm the idea.

Whatever the underlying rationale, volume and exotic skin make for a potent formal mix. The visual combinations which register on the eye on witnessing his work give pause to the viewer: whether one’s eye is digesting the potent blue of “INCENSER”, the physical surprise of the monumental hand atop the timber framework of “CATHEDRAL” , or the satisfying pregnant symmetry of “VAULTING HORSE”.

These formal qualities, however, seem to me to be only half of the full story. Without their taut and considered platform of intention they would be merely effects. On closer scrutiny it becomes evident that the works invariably project an overtly conscious and direct reference to the human condition – and this in a specific way. This is his driving force, his consistent objective which informs the visual decision making.

Whether the narrative is established a priori of evolves in parallel with the evolution of the work, (one senses that the former more often applies) is hard to say. But it does become clear that the unexpected objecthood manifested in the imagery owes much to the specificity of his narrative concerns regarding human psychology.

Perhaps one of his most conceptually ambitious works “BELOVED”, built in 1993 of ceramic with a surface partly gold-leafed, illustrated this. The artist describes the work; “BELOVED looks like a heavy mould-casing enclosing and imprisoning the form of a figure in a submissive and innocent pose. The sculpture represents the potential for a one-sided love to be violently claustrophobic and possessive.”

The conceptual platform of “FATHER” made a year earlier and realised through a combination of sculpture and language, is perhaps somewhat more elegant. From the ground up, its patterns of construction diminish in scale and become more refined in their surface finish. The work clearly articulates its intended reference to how the growth of ideas can become established to the point of unquestioning.

“GAZEBO” provides, in its totality, a physical distillation of the notion of the human sourcing architecture.

The interior void of the hollow-built representation of the human figure offers, in this instance, an actual kernel-space for the occupation of the viewer, an invitation which promotes a conceptual full-circle of the idea through direct action on the part of the key player, i.e. the witness.

The title, “GAZEBO” (“ a place from which to gaze in wonder”) plays a major role in the fullest realisation of the work, as indeed titles do in all of his works.

While Peter Bevan’s most recent piece suggests an intriguing new addition to his armoury of devices, that of direct viewer participation; and the increased conceptual density that his might imply; “GAZEBO” nonetheless functions within the same consistency of purpose evident in his previous works.

It is not so much his intent (engagement with the human condition) as his means of projection, which to my mind puts his work interestingly outwith the mainstream of figurative sculpture.

On one level his work could be described as being preoccupied with “the figure in space”. But such a definition is altogether too dry – there is so much more involved here, within a complex series of tableaux involving interdependent elements, symbols, devices, skins and implied narratives.

The whole engages us with its distinctive imagery, but also with an undercurrent of warmth and concern which probes us with questions, causing us to reflect upon the perceptions we have of ourselves in the world, and of the relationships we have with each other.

Doug Cocker

December 1995