concrete-neon: a paradoxical alliance in modern sculpture

Leonardo

Concrete-Neon: A Paradoxical Alliance in Modern SculptureAuthor(s): Alain BuscarletSource: Leonardo, Vol. 23, No. 1 (1990), pp. 31-34Published by: The MIT PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/1578461 .

Accessed: 12/06/2014 15:25

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

The MIT Press and Leonardo are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access toLeonardo.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 195.78.109.119 on Thu, 12 Jun 2014 15:26:01 PMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=mitpress

http://www.jstor.org/stable/1578461?origin=JSTOR-pdf

http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp


ARTIST'S NOTE

Concrete-Neon: A Paradoxical

Alliance in Modern Sculpture

Alain Buscarlet

Science is periodically subjected to intrusions from the irrational. These intrusions must be taken seriously. Indeed, they remind us that science raises questions and that the answers to these questions are not always comprehensive enough to confine the debate within the limits of the rational.

-Philippe Kourilsky, Les artisans de l'heredite

GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS

Besides the emotional content conveyed by it, each artistic reflection stands within a specific historical context, as evi- denced by the level of the technology employed to accom-

Fig. 1. Untitled, slatted, glued and lacquered white wood, 200 x 1220 cm, 1972. This work, a nonmatter and its shadows, uses no element of colour.

plish it. For over 100 years, dis- coveries have come tumbling over each other, becoming popularized almost instantly. In the heat of this industrial revolution, some turn-of-the- century artists believed they could eliminate lapses of rationality in their works. A growing trust in the virtues of reason led them to speculate on an austere art that would seek the vibrations of sensitivity at their source, abandoning there the anecdotal preten- tions of the past, "striping painting of its documentary, utilitarian, sycophantic, social and other elements .... But it is so hard to face all these suc-

ABSTRACT

The author presents his cur- rent work in concrete and neon, two apparently paradoxical materials, which he has been using since 1984. After placing his work in a general context, he then explains the evolution of his creative process. He defines the specific techni- cal qualities of concrete and neon, describing both the contradiction and the interaction between the two as well as their relation to space and their influence on the environment. He considers works in concrete and neon to be both images of the modern world and reflections of an ancient one.

cessive renunciations without remorse" [1]. Today, we find ourselves confronting a pool of knowledge

that opens up vast fields to creative endeavors. But while scientists, advancing their investigations, are induced to include the irrational in their reasoning, artists are keeping their distance from it, while watching with fascination the future that is being constructed before their eyes. A work of art is built on several levels: by using a technique that responds to a specific concept, it conveys a dominating emotional charge. Each level offers multiple choices and, inevitably, the irrational comes into play-the attempt to distance it appears quite illusory. A work of art is, above all, a work of art and is defined not by its more or less conscious origins but by its finality. Imagine a cube consisting of its 12 angles placed before us. What exactly is it? The remains or the start of some framework? The sketch of a model of intercellular connections? One of those tiny protozoan skel- etons? A building set? A work of art?

It may be each of these things, and many others, since its true significance appears only as a function of its scale, the materials from which it is made and its finality. However, it cannot be more than one of these things, since each choice irremediably refutes all the others. If a work of art can be justified as such, no matter what the scale and the material, it is obvious that the one finality underlying its creation was precisely to make it a work of art.

Alain Buscarlet (sculptor), 19 Domaine du Versant Sud, Mont-Gabriel, Mont-Rolland, Quebec, Canada,JOR 1GO.

Received 9 December 1987.

Manuscript solicited by Brigitte Kessel.

? 1990 ISAST Pergamon Press plc. Printed in Great Britain. 0024-094X/90 $3.00+0.00 LEONARDO, Vol. 23, No. 1, pp. 31-34, 1990 31



Fig. 2. Untitled, brushed stainless steel, artificial yellow light, 240 x 120 cm, 1981. Through the progression of the elements from thin to thick, in contrast to their uniform width, through movement created by changing direction of force, the ray of light becomes the Pssential element in the composition.

PERSONAL MOTIVATIONS

Defining the precise reasons that lead an individual to artistic creativity is evi- dently impossible. Personally, my first teenage inclinations were directed more toward mathematics or biology: the interplay of the mind and the science of the living. Yet here I am, a sculptor! Doubtless I felt the need to step back from these too tangible reali- ties-only the choice of a medium re- mained to be defined.

Rejecting the anecdotal character of the representation-I quickly felt closed in by colour and its obvious at- traction-I started to construct large white reliefs, working with the interplay of volume and hollows, shadows and luminosities (Fig. 1). I then wanted to charge this neutral material with more meaning, more presence; to set it, no longer against simple shadows, but against light, a sort of anti-matter, pure energy; to elaborate a system using the most simple and impersonal means, which would offer the widest space for depicting an emotion. In my case, it was a matter of selecting the most banal materials and playing on their contra- dictions. Concrete, with its many tech- nical, cultural and linguistic connota- tions, quickly seemed to me the ideal material to set off against artificial light.

CONCRETE: A CHOICE, A

TECHNIQUE

My work is based entirely on geometric forms, into which I insert luminous coloured signs in or on a structure built of concrete. Initially, I worked with wood,

using its grain and texture to build my work, but then later I switched to stainless steel, polished or matt (see Fig. 2), which I organized in specific rhythms and lit up with a shaft of light, often in counterpoint to those rhythms.

This type of work required much manipulation (e.g. making cutouts, folding or bending sheets several me- ters long), which I had to have executed by specialized companies. This left me with direct control over only the design, implementation and assembly of the various elements.

For several years, I have worked almost exclusively with concrete, a material that is omnipresent in our indus- trialized environment. Concrete is a composite material made up of variable proportions of four essential ingredients: cement, sand, aggregate (e.g. gravel) and water. It is characterized by a surface, or 'skin', which, unlike almost all other materials, is not repre- sentative of the internal structure, though it is an integral and indissoluble part of the mass. In fact, this 'skin' consists only of the fine particles of sand and cement and of the calcic precipi- tates resulting from the mixing of sand, cement and water. In practical terms, working with concrete requires three distinct stages: preparing the mould, pouring the mixture and removing the concrete from the mould.

Building the mould is the most im- portant task for constructing the framework of the creation and thus realizing one's intentions. It is then a matter of properly choosing the materials with which one wants to work. Although

concrete can be poured into practically anything, each case poses specific prob- lems that can be classified according to the degree of the mould's absorption. The water in the mixture has a strong component of lime, which, if not absorbed by the mould, is deposited on the surface as a pale film. The less absor- bent a mould, the paler the result. Fur- thermore, a mould with smooth, imper- meable inner walls considerably increases the risk of surface bubbling, since excess air cannot escape. Using a polyvinyl product during the casting process lowers the surface tension and limits this risk.

Wishing to affirm the industrial use of concrete, I work mainly with moulds of rough wood, experimenting with the design of parallel planks, pieces of sup- porting walls and ends of construction columns, which, in a Dadaist fashion, have been recovered and transcended. When the concrete has a rough surface, the characteristics of each plank-each design in the grain of the wood, the way the plank was hewn, the saw marks, the traces of resin or bark, the very essence of the wood, thus its greater or lesser porosity-are all factors of prime im- portance. Once all the materials have been selected, it is vital to ensure max- imum rigidity for each mould: since the wood is dry at first, it absorbs part of the water and expands transversally. If this movement occurs while the concrete is in the process of hardening, surface cracking may result. In addition, the mould must be able to resist the consid- erable pressure exerted by liquid concrete; it must have no weak point. The

32 Buscarlet, Concrete-Neon: A Paradoxical Alliance in Modern Sculpture



joints in particular, must be watched, since any leak of concrete, liquid lime or even water will leave an indelible trace.

The choice and proportions of the different ingredients used in mixing the concrete influence not only the de-

sign of the structure but also its appearance. The finer the sand, the more vis- ible it will be, since only the extremely fine particles (less than 0.15 mm) can be seen on the surface. The richer the cement is in metallic oxides, the darker it will be and the more it will neutralize

possible variations in the texture of the sand. Choosing the aggregate is also

complex. Although the aggregate has a

strong influence on reducing the final

weight of the concrete, one must know whether a hollow aggregate, owing to its great porosity, will absorb part of the lime in suspension, thus making the result darker and, if not distributed

equally, causing irregular patches. Since the hollow aggregate tends to

float, one must also ensure that it stays in place by using a series of wire meshes, which also provide the concrete with a

rigid framework.

Finally, the water, although colour- less, is also a determining factor in the tint. The more liquid the mixture, the more the lime may rise to the surface and the lighter the colour of the concrete will be. Excessive water prevents the cement from hardening and makes the concrete crumbly. Too little water makes the concrete granular, dark and

fragile. Removal from the mould is usually

done after a minimum of 72 hours. The time may vary, of course, depending on which of the possible additives have been used (e.g. setting retardants or

accelerators, antifreeze, waterproofing, fixatives). One can remove the work from the mould sooner to obtain a

paler concrete by preventing the lime from being absorbed by the mould.

Concrete, in the process of setting, is

extremely fragile, but it is possible to

give it all kinds of retouches by remov-

ing or adding material. If the sought- after result involves an abundance of small surface details or surfaces with

pronounced angles, it is essential to allow the setting to proceed for as long as possible. Retouches become riskier at this point: not only is the mass harder but any added material will no longer be an integral part of the piece.

a first coat of mortar (which is cement without aggregate and thus is richer in fine particles and helps the formation of the 'skin') and accentuate the small indentations by pressing with the

palette knife. I then embed a metallic mesh into the mortar, and, without

waiting for it to set, I cover it with coarse concrete, which will form the mass of the piece.

Concrete is a material that is at first

fluid, can be infinitely varied when it is used and, after it has hardened, is not

only more solid than most natural stones but also offers the possibility of

producing enormous, monolithic works. In addition to its physical char-

acteristics, it somehow forms an affec- tive link between our technological environment and nature; it can reflect our craziest dreams (particularly through architecture and civil engineering) and violate or enhance the beauty of a site. In its surface, it can retain forever the trace of the wood that gave it birth, the minute petrification that, through a sort of alchemy, transfers the grain of the wood onto the cement and the hardness of the cement to the grain of the wood. In fact, an actual exchange occurs between the form and the con-

crete. After I use the same planks several times, a noticeable mineralization

occurs, removing all the wood's absorb- ent properties.

The concrete, through the structure of its mould, takes on the appearance of wood grain; this appearance, however, has no effect on the solidity of the result. So much seeming imbalance, so

many apparent conflicts in direction of forces created through simple shifts in lines! Is there not a kind of revenge in

using concrete, which remains for

many people a negative symbol of our

technological civilization, concrete, a material with a thousand and one fac- ets, so poorly known and, often, so des-

pised? Is there not a kind of revenge in

cutting out pieces from those 'soulless walls', hanging them in full display and

proclaiming them a work of art? Is there not a kind of revenge in pushing to the extreme the sophistication of the image precisely where there is only apparent crudeness, in allowing oneself to be carried away by strength and tender- ness at the same time and then putting everything in balance with a ray of light?

But it may happen that this 'dough' with which one works becomes fascinat-

ing and seduces us so that this brutal

Fig. 3. Untitled, compact mortar on an infrastructure of light, smooth concrete, traversed

by two angles of artificial pink light, 50 x 100 cm, 1988. The light becomes a full-fledged material, seeming to levitate the central square.

Since most of my work is done flat on the floor, I can often work with succes- sive layers when I want to obtain a more detailed result on the surface. I spread

Buscarlet, Concrete-Neon: A Paradoxical Alliance in Modern Sculpture 33



Fig. 4. Untitled, four panels of concrete with a pink neon light, 250 x 250 cm, 1986. The embedded central square sits up at an angle and the lit neon tube on the ground serves as a sort of 'auto-shadow'. The lines of the planks on the concrete accentuate the apparent movement of the light.

material can be softened, polished and cajoled, leaving an open field to the display of all its richness (see Fig. 3 and Color Plate A No. 1).

An obvious problem resulting from the use of concrete is weight. Despite the use of hollow aggregates (expand- ed clay, microballons, etc.), it is sometimes difficult to reach a satisfactory compromise between size, rigidity and weight. The rigidity can be improved by using a metallic netting, but as soon as a certain size is exceeded, a split work is the only alternative: either the assembly of the various elements or the creation of the work itself must be done directly at the site (Fig. 4). The scale and the environment, and the interplay between the two, then reach their true meaning, and in this environment there remains the element essential to all visual perception: light.

LIGHT: A COUNTERPOINT

In my work, light assumes two forms: the light in the surrounding space and the light that is part of the object. This creates a double conflict: between matter and light and between light and light.

If the surrounding space is restricted, the second conflict is settled once and for all byjudicious balancing of the exterior and interior light sources. But cases in which surrounding space is not restricted are rich in possibilities; for

example, when the luminosity of the site cannot be controlled and thus comes into play no longer only in terms of highlights and shadows, the intensity and even the colour of the internal light source will vary. I quickly excluded in- candescent light, which produces too much heat, in preference for domestic, fluorescent light tubes, the light of which I filtered with bands of coloured Plexiglas. But this process required that the light source remain inside the object, with the light showing through narrow slits set into the mass. I soon found this constraint too limiting and decided to use high-voltage neon tubes (another symbol of a certain 'vulgar- ity') for the light sources that had to leave the framework defined by the concrete.

Neon tubes are made from large glass pipes, the diameters of which vary from 8 mm to 25 mm (1/3 in to 1 in). After the tube is sectioned to the neces- sary length, it is heated with a blowtorch until the temperature is hot enough that it can be bent in accordance with a preestablished diagram. To compen- sate for the outside pressure and to keep the inside diameter constant-an essential factor for the good circulation of the arc-air is blown into one end of the tube while the other end is closed off. When the desired shape is attained, an electrode is welded onto each end of the tube. On one of these is placed the becquet (beak), a small tube connected

to a pump that replaces the air inside with a rare gas: neon, argon or krypton. Each of these gases burns at a specific temperature and in a specific colour- red for neon, yellow-green for krypton, blue for argon-but requires variable electric power. Argon burns at a low temperature, has a neutral hue (pale blue) and is the gas generally used. By lining the inside wall of the tube with a phosphorescent powder, one can vary the hue (to date, almost 3,000 different hues have been counted). In addition, the glass itself can be tinted. In the absence of electric power, when all the powders are whitish, tinted glass keeps its tint, but it also absorbs part of the luminosity, which is sometimes impor- tant.

Thus neon, like concrete, is a material that too often is restricted to a utilitarian and minor role; yet it is rich in possibilities and meaning.

In my work, I seek to tauten forces, to trace axes with matter that is actually only a flux of energy charged with colour. When I succeed, the light, spilling beyond its shaft, invades the space surrounding it, giving a larger presence to the concrete, which, in contrast, is con- fined by its contours. These two materials, both of them close to us through the constant use in our urban environment and yet so different in nature, are required to communicate a higher degree of sensitivity. Here impalpable light confronts the imposing mass of concrete, which, worked in narrow layers, becomes transparent and catches fire. Or would it be the light that, with the aid of its framework, materializes?

Reference

1. Jacques Villon, "Documents r6unis par R. V. Gindertael", in Art d'aujourd'hui (Paris, 1952). Translation by Alain Buscarlet.

Bibliography

Cahiers Techniques, published by Federation de l'In- dustrie Cimetiere Belge, 1982-1987.

Pierre Francastel, Art et technique (Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1956).

Marcel Joray, Le beton dans l'art contemporain (Neu- chatel: Editions du Griffon, 1976 and 1987).

Christin Losta and Rudiger Schottle, Neondekora- tionen (Stuttgart: Fex Verlags, 1979).

Rudi Stern, Let There Be Neon (New York: Abrams, 1979).

Michael Webb, The Magic of Neon (Salt Lake City, UT: Peregrine Smith Books, 1983).

34 Buscarlet, Concrete-Neon: A Paradoxical Alliance in Modern Sculpture

