Evans is a place on Earth: The Shape Of Him:Antony Gormley @ White Cube, Mason's Yard.

Back in November 2019, me and my friend Valia visited Antony Gormley's huge and impressive retrospective at the Royal Academy. Of course I wrote a blog about it. So if you want a deeper feel into how I feel about Gormley and his practice then click on this hyperlink. This blog here is an account of a much smaller show of Gormley's I attended, alone, this afternoon at the White Cube in Mason's Yard, Mayfair and, fittingly, it's much shorter - and possibly a bit sillier too.

Witness II (1993)

It's just a few thoughts about a pleasant afternoon spent visiting a couple of art galleries, strolling along the South Bank in the sun, having a 99 ice cream, buying a George Orwell book (Coming Up For Air), and making the most of my job's Friday summer hours (finishing at 1pm every Friday of June, July, August - work permitting).

On entering the gallery, the show's got the rather portentous title WITNESS:Early Lead Works, I was politely informed by two security guards (one who bore a striking resemblance to Nish Kumar) that I was to not stand within one metre of any of the artworks and in the case of some of them, no more than 2.5 metres. It was like covid all over again!

Untitled (Sleeping Figure) (1983)

There's very little information about any of the works except some writing on the wall telling the visitor that Gormley started making art during the "protracted geopolitcal tensions of the Cold War" although I'm not totally sure what relevance that had to anything I saw here. Perhaps it's a reference to the greyness of the materials he uses.

That's possible but how would that explain models of his own body sat on the floor, lying down with a rock as a very uncomfortable looking pillow, or indeed a striding man - almost Giacometti like but after a decent meal - with an elongated birdhouse as a head. Truth be told, birdhouse-head-man was my favourite thing in the entire show and there was only one thing in the show I didn't like. Or at least didn't understand.

Home and the World II (1986-96)

Untitled (Listening Figure) (1983)

Elsewhere, it was - essentially - a run through of Gormley's greatest hits. Not all of them were titled so I have not been able to provide titles here but there's a crouching man (Gormley himself again - it's almost always him), an image - as if paused - giving the illusion of a two dimensional Gormley in athletic motion, and, er, some stones. Which at least looked pleasant. I wanted to rub them. I like big stones.

The next thing though, the one in the picture above. What the fuck's that all about it? I don't get it. Possibly if it was explained it'd make sense but frankly its inclusion here was baffling and reminded me of the time I visited a gallery and wasn't sure if a thermostat on a wall was supposed to be a work of art or just a thermostat.

'Seeds' made a bit more sense and actually had some, if not much relevance, to the allusions to the Cold War earlier. They looked a bit like spent bullet casings. On the floor nearby them was a line of things that gradually increased, or decreased depending on how you read them I suppose, in size. They went from the size of a pea to the size of something like a baseball bat and they grew, I couldn't help noticing, a little more phallic in shape as they went on. That one looks like a hand grenade, that one an aubergine, that looks like a dildo, that's a banana, and that's an actual cock. About the size of mine, actually. On a good day.

Seeds II (1989/93)

Although there's less of them these days. I'm fifty-seven in two months time. Best bet is to catch me first thing in the morning and hope I've been having some nice dreams. If you think I'm cheapening Gormley's important art by making crude and base jokes then don't worry. Antony Gormley wouldn't mind. Because there's some drawings at the end and one of them's got a cock showing.

As we know that Gormley always models his work on himself we can safely assume that it is the esteemed artist's own member. Proudly on display in Mayfair, home of many private member's clubs. I enjoyed this little trawl around Gormley's back catalogue, I enjoyed writing this daft blog about it, and I enjoyed my day in the sunshine. I did say if you wanted a more thoughtful account to click on the link at the beginning.