Artwork of the 80's
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Artists & Works

Marisol
Venezuelan (b. 1930)
HAND (1978)
plastic
20.625” x 19.125”

STYLE: 70s SCULPTURE,
POP ART

 

Born Marisol Escobar in 1930 in Paris, Marisol first studied at the École des Beaux-Arts and Académie Julian. In 1950 she moved to New York and continued her studies between 1951 and 1954 at the Hans Hofmann School and the Art Students' League. Influenced by Duchamp, Native American art, the Italian renaissance, as well as many other, more personal influences, the artist began to experiment with assemblages made of discarded wood and other found elements in the fifties. In 1958 she had her first individual exhibition at the Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. Marisol was a major figure in the Pop Art movement, using pop culture images from magazines to paste onto her wooden figures; she created a John Wayne in this manner in 1963, the same year Warhol produced his first Marilyn. Another famous work from 1963 is the monstrous Baby Girl (Albright-Knox Art Gallery) in which a tiny figure of the artist stands on the lap of an six-feet-high seated wooden child.

In Marisol’s sculpted portraits, the element of the hand is always very important. For example, Picasso (1981) has two sets of hands, one set resting on a chair, the other on his knees; DeKooning (1980) has three hands. This plastic cast of her own hand clearly emphasizes the importance of the artist’s hand, the primary medium for most artistic creation. Marisol’s focus on the hand rather than the face also is a reference to her own silence about her work and her preference to let her creative actions speak for themselves.

Source for biographical information: Grove Dictionary of Art, MacMillan, 2000.

CRITICAL EXCERPTS

Eleanor Heartney, "Marisol: A Sculptor of Modern Life, Neuberger Museum," New York Times, 8/01
“For over four decades, Marisol has been engaged in weaving a marvelous tapestry of human foibles, tragedies and ambitions. From this end of her career, her distance from the conventional notion of Pop Art is increasingly clear. Yet there is no other movement which seems capable of encompassing the range of her achievements. As I suggested at the outset, she seems best placed with other social commentators like Ed Kienholz, Red Grooms, and George Segal. On a formal level, she is perhaps closest to Kienholz, who also created figures and human environments out of the detritus of modern urban life. But her tone is very different than his. Kienholz tends toward horrific portraits of the family and the American scene. His figures are composed of found objects -- sewing tables, tricycles and baby strollers, fish bowls, animal bones -- arranged to bring out a sense of dehumanization and degradation.
Compare this with Marisol's family portraits. She was capable of highly satirical depictions -- for instance, a 1963 The Family, which depicts an upscale middle class family with a distant, stalwart dad, a mindless fashionable mom and four children, two insufferable toddlers and two babies in a carriage. But she also can deal with the subject with great empathy, as we have seen in works like the 1962 The Family and Poor Family I. For Kienholz, the family is a nightmare, while for Marisol, it is the building block of society and subject to the same tensions and difficulties as the rest of the culture. She gives form to Baudelaire's remark, "The lover of life makes the whole world his family."
Another social commentator; Red Grooms, shares her cheekiness and astute observation of telling details, but he is also more completely a parodist. Like Marisol, Grooms has created numerous portraits of other artists, but these tend to focus on the absurdity of the avant gardist impulse as it appears to the non-art public. And when he deals with Native Americans, he tends to draw his references from immediately recognizable media images rather than direct experience.
Oddly, considering how different their work is formally, the artist whose vision comes closest to Marisol's is George Segal. His white plaster casts of anonymous urban types in generic urban settings share the sense of humanism and sympathy that has been increasingly apparent in Marisol's more recent work. Like her; he is drawn to the vulnerabilities and the poignant struggles of his characters. He reminds us that we are all part of the same crazy world.
In the end, labels like Pop or Abstract-Expressionism are less important than the enduring qualities of the art they describe. In Marisol's case what endures is the universality of the impulses she captures. Truly a sculptor of modern life, she evokes the venality of social climbers, the integrity of great artists, the contradictions of the powerful and the quiet dignity of the dispossessed. She feels both their absurdity and their pain and encourages us to do the same.”