I have enjoyed art in foreign places; I’ve been in awe of Michelangelo’s ‘David’, admired Rodin’s ‘The Thinker’ and stood perplexed at Moore’s ‘The Archer’ in front of city hall in Toronto, Ontario. As a young person growing up there, I heard the great debate over Moore’s “art”. It was condemned by many and lauded by a few, but when Toronto’s new landmark city hall was finished, ‘The Archer’ was placed in front to the amusement of most. Nobody knew what it was supposed to be; the citizens of Ontario in the 1960’s were still pretty conservative. At no time, looking at these pieces of art, did I consider the work that had gone into them, although I realize now that any of those great artists were able to hand off the grunt work to their hired help if they wanted to.
Five years ago, I was fortunate enough to be able to spend a little time in China between Shanghai and Beijing. We toured around by train and bus with a local guide as translator. On one particular day, our bus was taking us somewhere wonderful when I noticed in a yard beside the highway, a large number of stone statues. The sight caught my eye but I didn’t have much time to react. When I realized that we would be taking the same route back, I determined to somehow get the driver to stop for a closer look. That is where the guide came in handy! She must have explained that one particular eccentric foreign woman needed to see the dusty stone yard because we made an unprecedented unscheduled stop!
Limestone sculptures as tall as about 15 feet were scattered around a large yard but only three men labored, all with only hammer and chisel; no safety equipment was in sight! As I gazed around, I heard voices, “Always wear a dust mask,” “Make sure you drink plenty of water.” Ward and Vic were there in my brain. Dust was flying in all directions and the noise by the highway was terrible. One lone old angle grinder lay in a pile of rubble.
The detail on the various pieces was quite fine. There were animals representing strength and endurance, and tall, stern gentlemen emanating intelligence and wisdom. Here in this place, beside a highway, out in the open, not great, but good and enduring art was being created.
What amazed me was that so few people could do so much work on such a grand scale. At the Kong Family tombs, the family of Confucius, and the place of his burial, we had seen many similar statues; the more important the family member the larger the statue. The stone yard had all sizes of statue! I can’t even imagine how much or how little money was paid for these works, but I do know that a hand done ink painting went for approximately seven Canadian dollars (and you all know how much that is!) near the Kong tomb and all of us snatched them up to be taken home as treasures of the trip.
As I work away in my studio at home, with the stereo playing and my respirator and ear plugs in place, I often think of those men and the conditions they laboured under in China
