Self-taught sculptor Sonia Keogh has a keen eye on the world. Her vision of
humanity manifests as small figures which are at once familiar, incongruous,
heartfelt and often discomforting.
None more so than Gene (2003),
a chicken-man which featured as a touring finalist in the Wallace Art Awards.
This grim-faced commentary on the GE debate captivated the Wallace jury and was
later likened to work by Patricia Piccinini. This was the first time one of
Keogh's pieces had been shown.
Other comparisons have since
been drawn with Australian sculptor Ron Mueck, whose hyperrealistic reflections
on human forms and frailties transfix audiences young and old.
Keogh, from Central Otago,
continues to turn out similarly evocative yet highly original work.
If she is observing the world
closely, the same must be said of her lifelike characters. Penetrating
expressions tell individual stories: some hopeful, some humorous, some poignant,
some painfully sad.
Keogh starts each character
with the face, incorporating expressions or physiognomic features of people she
encounters both in person and through newspaper images which fire her
imagination. Layers of flesh are painstakingly built up by moulding polymer clay
over a metal armature. Her figures are baked in an oven then expertly
hand-painted: veins revealed, blemishes brought to the fore.
Keogh explains that “sculpting
each piece is an intimate process that takes me up to 250 hours to complete. I
become deeply connected to each one and often find it difficult to part with
them.”
Her messages arise from the
human condition and may be obvious or not. They are imparted in mysterious,
quirky, tender, confrontational, realistic or fantastical ways.
By spending time with these
characters, one becomes aware of one's own values, prejudices and
vulnerabilities. This viewer awareness is an important objective for the artist.
The stripped-back figures seem
so much bigger than they are in reality, possibly because they inhabit a finite
physical space, but also perhaps because they are metaphors for universal
themes.
They are vessels for the
emotional energy and empathy with people from which Keogh draws her inspiration.
They are also beings in
transition; equivocal, hypnotic even, and their tiny glass eyes will engage and
challenge the viewer if you will let them.
artist statement
I'm fascinated by our
innate ability to interpret facial expression and body language, and our
struggle to adapt to change. My last series of work expressed the pain,
anger and utter loneliness of grief and the unspoken social pressure to mask
it. I'm currently focusing on more positive emotions that explore inner
strength and humility. I've drawn on my observations of human behaviour,
instinct, spatial awareness, life experiences and core beliefs to bring my
work to life. Many of us draw on these exact same qualities to overcome
personal crises. I hope that by developing my sculptures to provoke
questions, we can make important discoveries about ourselves.
