As a former lego fan, it was with nostalgic wonder that I noticed The Art of the Brick. Boldly going beyond the realm of spacecraft kits, the exhibition promised to elevate the humble plastic brick into an art form. Intrigued though not entirely convinced lego could be called art, I booked an afternoon off to discover the lofty heights my beloved bricks have now reached.
Achieving a cataclysmic career change from corporate lawyer to brick artist, Nathan Sawaya discovered he was more comfortable sitting sculpting on the floor than seated in the boardroom. What started as a slightly eccentric boyhood passion soon sky-rocketed into world-wide acclaim with commissions rolling in from Donald Trump and Bill Clinton.
Venturing into the gallery’s dark labyrinth, the sculptures’ bold, primary colours take on an energy of their own under the glare of the bright spotlights. Entering the ancient world of antiquity, perfect plastic embodiments of David, Venus de Milo and Rodin’s the Thinker shock me out of my sceptical “spacecraft” sensibilities. The brick is clearly an art form not to be taken lightly. As Nathan succinctly points out art nurtures the brain no matter what the medium used.
From sculptures to great works of art, the brick’s startling versatility is highlighted in the clever use of colour used to create the larger-than-life representations of Girl with a Pearl Earring and Munch’s Scream which leaps out of the page in glorious technicolour 3-D blocks.
But it’s his representation of human expression that packs the biggest punch. Life-size characters are imbued with the all too human struggles that we all experience on a daily basis. The exhibition’s most famous work, Yellow, depicts with unsettling accuracy the painful interior metamorphosis which takes place when we open ourselves up to the world.
Meanwhile close by, Green torso clutches her head in her hands in the way many of us feel by around 10.00am on a Monday morning. How nice it would be to have a detachable plastic head that could be emptied on a regular basis.
Continuing the work theme, a monochrome corporate man reveals a very different interior self struggling to get out. In a clear allusion to Sawaya’s own career transition, I wonder how many of us share a similar alternative identity struggling to get out?
For me, the most arresting sculpture of the exhibition is My Boy. Based on a story Nathan was told by a parent, the vulnerability of the subject’s kneeling posture and despairing look to the heavens is heart-breaking. Taking two months to complete, it’s a painstaking labour of love on an epic emotional scale.
I leave the exhibition with a new-found awe for lego but an even greater appreciation for the creative genius that can portray such raw human emotion from an everyday toy. Acknowledging that it all began with one brick, I idly wonder whether to invest in some plasticine on the way home. Somehow I think it may be a while before I get a call from Donald Trump.
The Art of the Brick runs until the 4th January at the Old Truman Brewery, Loading Bay, Ely’s Yard, 15 Hanbury Street E1 6QR.
My ticket was provided free of charge courtesy of Target Live.