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拍品專文
The 1950s was a prolific period for Moore, whose international profile had risen considerably in the aftermath of the war. During this time there was a renewed interest in British art and cultural achievement, with the growing patronage of agencies, such as the British Council and the Arts Council of Great Britain and the support of influential figures like Kenneth Clark. Moore's work was now successfully promoted on a global platform, securing him a number of exhibitions and commissions worldwide. Of these some of the most important were the bronze Draped Reclining Figure, 1952-1953 for the new Time-Life Building in London; the large marble Reclining Figure, 1958, for the UNESCO headquarters in Paris; and the bronze Reclining Figure: Festival for the Festival of Britain in 1951.
One of the more unique group of works from this period was Moore’s Warrior Series that he began in the early 1950s, of which Maquette for Fallen Warrior is arguably most striking and dramatic. Conceived in 1956-1957, in an edition of ten, this work succeeds Reclining Warrior, 1953, the first of the male warrior subjects in three-dimensional form, and Warrior with Shield, 1953-1954. It would culminate in the 60 inch long work Fallen Warrior, 1956-1957, where Moore altered the composition slightly, repositioning the warrior’s shield from near his right foot to his left hand, so that it would create the illusion of a warrior using the shield in order to break his ultimate fall.
In a letter dated 15 January 1955, Moore describes his source of inspiration and the natural evolution his work took: `The idea for The Warrior came to me at the end of 1952 or very early in 1953. It was evolved from a pebble I found on the seashore in the summer of 1952, and which reminded me of the stump of a leg, amputated at the hip ... First I added the body, leg and one arm and it became a wounded warrior, but at first the figure was reclining. A day or two later I added a shield and altered its position into a seated figure and so it changed from an inactive pose into a figure which, though wounded, is still defiant’ (H. Moore, quoted in R. Crawford (foreword), Henry Moore War and Utility, London, 2006, n.p.).
This piece marks a stylistic change for the artist, who by the early 1950s, began to incorporate more classical and romantic elements into his sculptures, looking to Greek Classicism for inspiration. This stood in stark contrast to his attitude in the 1920s and 1930s during which Moore turned his back on the classical teachings of Greek and Renaissance art, preferring instead the more primitive examples of New Ireland Malangan figures, Dogon Mother Masks and the sculpture of Egypt, Mexico and Africa he saw at the British Museum. Moore explained, ‘There was a period when I tried to avoid looking at Greek sculpture of any kind and Renaissance. When I thought that the Greek and Renaissance were the enemy, and that one had to throw all that over and start again from the beginning of primitive art. It’s only perhaps in the last ten or fifteen years that I have began to know how wonderful the Elgin Marbles are’ (H. Moore, 1960, quoted in R. Cardinal, Henry Moore In the Light of Greece, Turin, 2000, p. 17).
In 1951, Moore travelled to Greece with his wife, Irina to visit the ninth and final venue on his two-year European tour, which ended in Athens at the Zappeion Gallery. Moore's first-hand experience of Greece and his witnessing ancient sculpture and monuments in their natural settings, had a renewed impact on his work, evident in the draped reclining figures of the early 1950s and the Warrior Series, as seen in the present work.
In 1961 Moore recalled this journey in a conversation with John Russell: ‘My first visit to Greece came late in life - it was 1951, when I was fifty-three - and I thought before going that I knew about Greek art, because I'd been brought up on it, and that I might even be disappointed. But not at all, of course. I'd say that four or five of my top ten or twelve visual experiences came in Greece. For example, Mycenae had a tremendous impact. I felt that I understood Greek tragedy and - well, the whole idea of Greece - much, much more completely than ever before ... And the Greek landscape was another revelation for me - that stark, stony quality, with the feeling that the sea may be round the next corner. I can understand why they were sculptors - the stone just had to be used, it was the one thing they had to hand’ (H. Moore, quoted in, A. Wilkinson (ed.), Henry Moore: Writings and Conversations, Berkeley, 2002, p. 69).
The Warrior Series, not only marked a stylistic departure from Moore’s pre-war years, but also stands in stark contrast to the majority of his oeuvre in his deployment of the male figure. Previously the role of the male figure had been subsidiary or taken on a supportive role to his female counterpart, as seen in the Family Groups or the Shelter Drawings. But now, for the first time in the Warrior Series, the male is depicted alone and is presented as an individual for contemplation. Moore reiterates, ‘Except for a short period when I did coal-mining drawings as a war artist, nearly all my figure sculpture and drawings, since being a student, has been of the female, except for the Family Groups, but there the man was part of the group. [Warrior with Shield] is the first single and separate male figure that I have done in sculpture and carrying it out in its final large scale was almost like the discovery of a new subject matter; the bony, edgy, tense forms were a great excitement to me’ (H. Moore, quoted in, ibid., pp. 283-284.)
Now that the male figure had finally made its appearance in his work, Moore elected not to treat it in a freely exploratory series of formal variations as he normally did in his reclining female figures, or as he would undertake later in his interpretation of landscape forms, which often assume a feminine aspect in his hands. Moore's conception of the male figure required instead that he imbue it with immediate and overwhelming expressive power that derived mainly from the traditional social role of the man as a warrior. Male figures would appear again but infrequently in Moore's work, but when they do, the viewer is quickly alerted to the fact that these men herald a moment of supreme human drama, and they bear in their virile attitude and forms an especially weighty and portentous significance.
Moore’s treatment of the male figure, however, follows that of his drawings, and was never presented as aggressive, bombastic or militaristic. Instead they seem almost defenceless, or as seen in the Family Groups are contemplative and supportive, rather than dominant. In Maquette for Fallen Warrior, Moore presents his male as a fallen soldier, defiantly heroic and yet convulsively tragic and powerless. Here Moore alludes to the terrible outcome of the warrior's combat and his struggle with an unseen adversary, which he seems unable to fight. As in many of his shelter drawings, Moore presents here the impending threat from above, as the warrior lies on his back, his shield once held upwards is now discarded, as he lies mortally wounded on the ground. This skyward danger has been attributed to the perils of the Blitz, which plagued Moore during his time as an official war artist in London when he worked on the Shelter Drawings of 1940-1941. Moore fittingly compares this impending danger, which is personified in Maquette for Fallen Warrior, as ‘the chorus in a Greek drama telling us about the violence we don’t actually witness’ (H. Moore, quoted in, R. Crawford (foreword), Henry Moore War and Utility, London, 2006, p. 27).
The shield, helmet head and other insignia of warfare were to feature heavily in Moore’s work of the 1950s, where there seems to be a deliberate return to pre-war concerns and anxieties. Moore believed that the power of sculpture was about opening one's eyes to the outside world, not shutting it off from reality. One of Moore's most valuable strengths was his ability to present universal symbols, such as the helmet head, the mother and child, or as seen here the fallen warrior, a motif, which could be understood internationally but in turn would resound on a personal level. Indeed the symbol of a powerless, fallen warrior resonated particularly with the post-war generation, who had not only lived through the horrors of two world wars but were now, in the 1950s, immersed in the threat of the Cold War and the accelerating arms race. Moving away from depicting the sufferings of the collective, portrayed huddled together in the London underground tunnels, Moore sought in the 1950s to capture the individual and the menace imposed on them by war, of which Maquette for Fallen Warrior is one of the most poignant examples.
Other casts of Maquette for Fallen Warrior are in the collection of the Tate, London; the Henry Moore Foundation; the British Council; and the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Washington, D.C.
One of the more unique group of works from this period was Moore’s Warrior Series that he began in the early 1950s, of which Maquette for Fallen Warrior is arguably most striking and dramatic. Conceived in 1956-1957, in an edition of ten, this work succeeds Reclining Warrior, 1953, the first of the male warrior subjects in three-dimensional form, and Warrior with Shield, 1953-1954. It would culminate in the 60 inch long work Fallen Warrior, 1956-1957, where Moore altered the composition slightly, repositioning the warrior’s shield from near his right foot to his left hand, so that it would create the illusion of a warrior using the shield in order to break his ultimate fall.
In a letter dated 15 January 1955, Moore describes his source of inspiration and the natural evolution his work took: `The idea for The Warrior came to me at the end of 1952 or very early in 1953. It was evolved from a pebble I found on the seashore in the summer of 1952, and which reminded me of the stump of a leg, amputated at the hip ... First I added the body, leg and one arm and it became a wounded warrior, but at first the figure was reclining. A day or two later I added a shield and altered its position into a seated figure and so it changed from an inactive pose into a figure which, though wounded, is still defiant’ (H. Moore, quoted in R. Crawford (foreword), Henry Moore War and Utility, London, 2006, n.p.).
This piece marks a stylistic change for the artist, who by the early 1950s, began to incorporate more classical and romantic elements into his sculptures, looking to Greek Classicism for inspiration. This stood in stark contrast to his attitude in the 1920s and 1930s during which Moore turned his back on the classical teachings of Greek and Renaissance art, preferring instead the more primitive examples of New Ireland Malangan figures, Dogon Mother Masks and the sculpture of Egypt, Mexico and Africa he saw at the British Museum. Moore explained, ‘There was a period when I tried to avoid looking at Greek sculpture of any kind and Renaissance. When I thought that the Greek and Renaissance were the enemy, and that one had to throw all that over and start again from the beginning of primitive art. It’s only perhaps in the last ten or fifteen years that I have began to know how wonderful the Elgin Marbles are’ (H. Moore, 1960, quoted in R. Cardinal, Henry Moore In the Light of Greece, Turin, 2000, p. 17).
In 1951, Moore travelled to Greece with his wife, Irina to visit the ninth and final venue on his two-year European tour, which ended in Athens at the Zappeion Gallery. Moore's first-hand experience of Greece and his witnessing ancient sculpture and monuments in their natural settings, had a renewed impact on his work, evident in the draped reclining figures of the early 1950s and the Warrior Series, as seen in the present work.
In 1961 Moore recalled this journey in a conversation with John Russell: ‘My first visit to Greece came late in life - it was 1951, when I was fifty-three - and I thought before going that I knew about Greek art, because I'd been brought up on it, and that I might even be disappointed. But not at all, of course. I'd say that four or five of my top ten or twelve visual experiences came in Greece. For example, Mycenae had a tremendous impact. I felt that I understood Greek tragedy and - well, the whole idea of Greece - much, much more completely than ever before ... And the Greek landscape was another revelation for me - that stark, stony quality, with the feeling that the sea may be round the next corner. I can understand why they were sculptors - the stone just had to be used, it was the one thing they had to hand’ (H. Moore, quoted in, A. Wilkinson (ed.), Henry Moore: Writings and Conversations, Berkeley, 2002, p. 69).
The Warrior Series, not only marked a stylistic departure from Moore’s pre-war years, but also stands in stark contrast to the majority of his oeuvre in his deployment of the male figure. Previously the role of the male figure had been subsidiary or taken on a supportive role to his female counterpart, as seen in the Family Groups or the Shelter Drawings. But now, for the first time in the Warrior Series, the male is depicted alone and is presented as an individual for contemplation. Moore reiterates, ‘Except for a short period when I did coal-mining drawings as a war artist, nearly all my figure sculpture and drawings, since being a student, has been of the female, except for the Family Groups, but there the man was part of the group. [Warrior with Shield] is the first single and separate male figure that I have done in sculpture and carrying it out in its final large scale was almost like the discovery of a new subject matter; the bony, edgy, tense forms were a great excitement to me’ (H. Moore, quoted in, ibid., pp. 283-284.)
Now that the male figure had finally made its appearance in his work, Moore elected not to treat it in a freely exploratory series of formal variations as he normally did in his reclining female figures, or as he would undertake later in his interpretation of landscape forms, which often assume a feminine aspect in his hands. Moore's conception of the male figure required instead that he imbue it with immediate and overwhelming expressive power that derived mainly from the traditional social role of the man as a warrior. Male figures would appear again but infrequently in Moore's work, but when they do, the viewer is quickly alerted to the fact that these men herald a moment of supreme human drama, and they bear in their virile attitude and forms an especially weighty and portentous significance.
Moore’s treatment of the male figure, however, follows that of his drawings, and was never presented as aggressive, bombastic or militaristic. Instead they seem almost defenceless, or as seen in the Family Groups are contemplative and supportive, rather than dominant. In Maquette for Fallen Warrior, Moore presents his male as a fallen soldier, defiantly heroic and yet convulsively tragic and powerless. Here Moore alludes to the terrible outcome of the warrior's combat and his struggle with an unseen adversary, which he seems unable to fight. As in many of his shelter drawings, Moore presents here the impending threat from above, as the warrior lies on his back, his shield once held upwards is now discarded, as he lies mortally wounded on the ground. This skyward danger has been attributed to the perils of the Blitz, which plagued Moore during his time as an official war artist in London when he worked on the Shelter Drawings of 1940-1941. Moore fittingly compares this impending danger, which is personified in Maquette for Fallen Warrior, as ‘the chorus in a Greek drama telling us about the violence we don’t actually witness’ (H. Moore, quoted in, R. Crawford (foreword), Henry Moore War and Utility, London, 2006, p. 27).
The shield, helmet head and other insignia of warfare were to feature heavily in Moore’s work of the 1950s, where there seems to be a deliberate return to pre-war concerns and anxieties. Moore believed that the power of sculpture was about opening one's eyes to the outside world, not shutting it off from reality. One of Moore's most valuable strengths was his ability to present universal symbols, such as the helmet head, the mother and child, or as seen here the fallen warrior, a motif, which could be understood internationally but in turn would resound on a personal level. Indeed the symbol of a powerless, fallen warrior resonated particularly with the post-war generation, who had not only lived through the horrors of two world wars but were now, in the 1950s, immersed in the threat of the Cold War and the accelerating arms race. Moving away from depicting the sufferings of the collective, portrayed huddled together in the London underground tunnels, Moore sought in the 1950s to capture the individual and the menace imposed on them by war, of which Maquette for Fallen Warrior is one of the most poignant examples.
Other casts of Maquette for Fallen Warrior are in the collection of the Tate, London; the Henry Moore Foundation; the British Council; and the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Washington, D.C.