carcass › Nick Turvey

Relic
2011. Acacia wood. 168 x 27 x 25 cm.
Host
2011. Jelly – 50 x 30 x 30 cm.

We are meat, infected by language.
The Binding Problem
2011. Carrara marble. 80 x 65 x 65 cm.

Dying in his cell or hospital bed, trapped in memories, Beckett’s character Malone recounts: “When I open staring wide my eyes I see at the confines of this restless gloom a gleam and shimmering as of bones, which was not hitherto the case, to the best of my knowledge. And I can even distinctly remember the paper-hangings or wallpaper still clinging to the walls in places and covered with a writhing mass of roses, violets and other flowers …”.
The Binding Problem
2011. Carrara marble. 80 x 65 x 65 cm.

Dying in his cell or hospital bed, trapped in memories, Beckett’s character Malone recounts: “When I open staring wide my eyes I see at the confines of this restless gloom a gleam and shimmering as of bones, which was not hitherto the case, to the best of my knowledge. And I can even distinctly remember the paper-hangings or wallpaper still clinging to the walls in places and covered with a writhing mass of roses, violets and other flowers …”.
The Binding Problem
2011. Carrara marble. 80 x 65 x 65 cm.

Dying in his cell or hospital bed, trapped in memories, Beckett’s character Malone recounts: “When I open staring wide my eyes I see at the confines of this restless gloom a gleam and shimmering as of bones, which was not hitherto the case, to the best of my knowledge. And I can even distinctly remember the paper-hangings or wallpaper still clinging to the walls in places and covered with a writhing mass of roses, violets and other flowers …”.
Conscience
2011. Bronze resin & nylon rope – 200 x 64 x 60 cm.

What interests me is the embodied nature of consciousness, the fact that our sense of ourselves is the product of a visceral, muscular materiality. Yet, at the same time, this body can seem like a prison, in which we are shackled by brutish desires and appetites. Identity is not monolithic. The brain and body are a parliament. It is a constant struggle, a dialogue, a story. We believe whatever we must, in order to continue living.
Conscience
2011. Bronze resin & nylon rope – 200 x 64 x 60 cm.

What interests me is the embodied nature of consciousness, the fact that our sense of ourselves is the product of a visceral, muscular materiality. Yet, at the same time, this body can seem like a prison, in which we are shackled by brutish desires and appetites. Identity is not monolithic. The brain and body are a parliament. It is a constant struggle, a dialogue, a story. We believe whatever we must, in order to continue living.
Conscience
2011. Bronze resin & nylon rope – 200 x 64 x 60 cm.

What interests me is the embodied nature of consciousness, the fact that our sense of ourselves is the product of a visceral, muscular materiality. Yet, at the same time, this body can seem like a prison, in which we are shackled by brutish desires and appetites. Identity is not monolithic. The brain and body are a parliament. It is a constant struggle, a dialogue, a story. We believe whatever we must, in order to continue living.
Methuselah
2010. Corten steel. 320 x 320 x 400 cm.

Interesting properties emerge at the interface where one kind of order meets another. You could call it algorithmic form, a cognitive hack of the eye and brain to exploit our figurative bias, akin to the mathematical simulation involved in image compression.

Acquired by Newhall Projects for the Harlow Art Trust collection, and permanently installed in the new park at the centre of Newhall. To visit, drive to the end of The Chase, CM17 9JA. A map of Harlow’s extensive sculpture collection can be downloaded from here or here.
Methuselah
2010. Corten steel. 320 x 320 x 400 cm.

Interesting properties emerge at the interface where one kind of order meets another. You could call it algorithmic form, a cognitive hack of the eye and brain to exploit our figurative bias, akin to the mathematical simulation involved in image compression.

Acquired by Newhall Projects for the Harlow Art Trust collection, and permanently installed in the new park at the centre of Newhall. To visit, drive to the end of The Chase, CM17 9JA. A map of Harlow’s extensive sculpture collection can be downloaded from here or here.
Methuselah
2010. Corten steel. 320 x 320 x 400 cm.

Interesting properties emerge at the interface where one kind of order meets another. You could call it algorithmic form, a cognitive hack of the eye and brain to exploit our figurative bias, akin to the mathematical simulation involved in image compression.

Acquired by Newhall Projects for the Harlow Art Trust collection, and permanently installed in the new park at the centre of Newhall. To visit, drive to the end of The Chase, CM17 9JA. A map of Harlow’s extensive sculpture collection can be downloaded from here or here.
Venus
2010. Polyurethane rubber, foam & stainless steel. 300 x 140 x 140 cm.
Venus
2010. Polyurethane rubber, foam & stainless steel. 300 x 140 x 140 cm.
Venus
2010. Polyurethane rubber, foam & stainless steel. 300 x 140 x 140 cm.
Chief
2010. Corten Steel & enamel paint. 400 (l) x 135 (w) x 170 cm (h)

The timeless word ‘Chief’ aims to provoke reflections on our need for heroes, and this toppled giant, slumped in defeat, alludes to propagandist embodiments of power laid low, the pathos of the heroic body. There is something clearly skeletal about the form, which, just like historical or political reputations, appears and dissolves, depending on one’s point of view.
Chief
2010. Corten Steel & enamel paint. 400 (l) x 135 (w) x 170 cm (h)

The timeless word ‘Chief’ aims to provoke reflections on our need for heroes, and this toppled giant, slumped in defeat, alludes to propagandist embodiments of power laid low, the pathos of the heroic body. There is something clearly skeletal about the form, which, just like historical or political reputations, appears and dissolves, depending on one’s point of view.
Chief
2010. Corten Steel & enamel paint. 400 (l) x 135 (w) x 170 cm (h)

The timeless word ‘Chief’ aims to provoke reflections on our need for heroes, and this toppled giant, slumped in defeat, alludes to propagandist embodiments of power laid low, the pathos of the heroic body. There is something clearly skeletal about the form, which, just like historical or political reputations, appears and dissolves, depending on one’s point of view.