Mobilising

Calder: The Conquest of Space by Jed Perl has been sitting in my BookOutlet wish list for nearly four months. Whilst clearing out said wish list last night, I came upon the aforementioned book and wondered why it was there. As much as I love Rodin and Giacometti, I’m not particularly knowledgeable about sculpture; Too much of what’s called sculpture these days looks nothing more than a mish-mash of nonsense with a pseudo meaningful title attached, so I don’t pay it too much mind. Yet, I digress.
One can always recognise a Calder. I’ve been able to since I saw my first Calder at 12, at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. Since then, in certain pockets of this country, all over this globe, I have come across either a gliding mobile or a static several ton steel behemoth with his signature. With every siting I stop, stare and smile. In physics, kinetic energy is defined as the energy an object has when it’s in motion. When I watch an Alexander Calder mobile in motion, the energy that object has is one of immense elation. A happiness that passes on to me, knowing I am alive in the here and now.
During his formative years, Calder lived a peripatetic life with his artist parents. Once he settled in place he moved to another, a pattern that continued into his adult life until he found renown. Could this early existence of constant movement be the reason for his creating the mobile? A construct of many pieces that makes a whole, which when in contact with natural forces moves. It’s extraordinary that before he was 13 he’d made various smaller versions of what he’d in later life make on a larger scale. Testament that nature nurtures what’s inherently biologic in us. Growing up as child who moved around a lot, I searched for an anchor to keep me in place; That was writing. My formative years are quite foggy, but what’s vivid are the stories and plays and show’s I’d create to entertain myself. These worlds were my own, homes that would remain the same when people, places and things around me constantly morphed.
Why do I like Calder? Because when I find myself before or underneath his mobiles, I think of what it’s like to be a child. There’s a joyful sense of play in his swinging metal works, a magical wonder as to where a piece will fly. Like the paintings of Joan Miro, the simple silliness in the construction of Calder’s piece’s is like that of kinder at play, full of merriment and wonder. Too often art is thought to be a very serious medium, one of heavy meaning and rigidity. We forget that the creation of art is basically grown-ups at play. We may often create to make a statement, yet we must not forget that to evolve, there has to be jubilation.
Maybe I will get that book after all.

‍