Any artist's work should be seen in its collective variety, but it is especially edifying to see Herbert Simon's work in this way. Having worked geometrically in metal for the past ten years, his course has been consistent and evolutionary, a chain of variations upon an initial idea leading ultimately to another idea and another set of variations.
His primary starting points in the history of modern sculpture have been Constructivism, particularly David Smith's American version; and the more recent Minimalism, both of which have based themselves upon geometric forms and assemblage techniques. Simon has been exploring an area generally lying somewhere between the more complex, sometimes expressionistic style of the Constructivists and the spare, often inert manner of the Minimalists. Although his works are highly reductivist in character, their simplicity does not obscure their complexity.
Simon creates visual fugues; in this day and age, we might call them "cybernetic" variations. They result from the method of playing and replaying upon a basic module, in a kind of rationalist improvisation. This technique may apply to a single piece; simply, as in Reorient I[, where the two modules are placed on different axes; or more complexly, as in Facets (see fig. 1), where sixteen modules are grouped in different planar relationships to create a hidden symmetry. The method may also apply serially, where the module is carried through a set of individual sculptures, so that comparison of two or more pieces within the set provides another level of interrelational interest.
The present exhibition is made up mostly of two such series, the Mazes and the Thrus, plus a number of pieces from earlier series. In the Mazes, executed in 1978, Simon recalls the words of Paul Klee by "taking a line for a walk." An aluminum line travels through space, from a horizontal plane to a vertical one, from inside to outside and back, or vice versa. By working within a strictly limited modular system, the artist is able to explore and analyze a greater number of possible variables. Minor physical shifts within the system result in subtle but often significant differences in psychological effect.
Nexus, for example, seems to rise from the floor while it links the plane of the floor to that of the wall; but it also appears to hold those planes apart, like some fragile but perfectly positioned buttress. The Wall Fall pieces seem to drop from the wall to the floor, suggesting two delicate cataracts just beginning their journey across the horizontal plane which extends before them. Juncture 11 has a classically uniform perpendicularity, but Reorient 11 uses the same module to suggest something playfully dynamic and "baroque."
In another sense, all of the Mazes are dynamic. They are not closed systems, but could easily continue on indefinitely. The spiralling movement is open-ended. Even when it reaches the point of internal constriction, as in Ravel Up, the metal line suddenly breaks into a vertical direction an begins a soaring ascent. Perhaps it could become another Nexus, or perhaps something altogether different. Ravel Up alludes to potentiality, while Nexus takes us to a further level of resolution (but not finality; the ends are still open).
It is possible to think about and react to many separate aesthetic events in individual works as well as in their collectivity. Points of convergence or tangency, shifts of direction, interplays of void and mass, patterns of light and shadow - all these become more conspicuous in sculpture which is geometrically uncomplicated. Therein lies its complexity.
As the Maze series explores linear movements in space and is essentially open in character, the Thru series takes us into a realm of cubical spaces enclosed by flat planes. Suggesting architecture or even stage sets, these structures invite us to enter vicariously. Here our eyes are not following the route of a linear form through space. Rather, we imagine ourselves passing through the shaped spaces of the boxes. Sometimes the passage is open, but sometimes it is unclear where we will end up, or whether we will be able to pass through at all. An element of mystery or of potential frustration ensues. This effect is only heightened by the play of shadows within the box, sometimes suggesting ominous cul-de-sacs, but at other times giving way to a "light at the end of the tunnel."
To some extent, the variables in the Thrus are more intriguing than those of the Mazes. The constant of the outer cube establishes strict boundaries which are absent with open space, and which force the sculptor to work within the given configuration. Still, the possibilities are virtually limitless. The interior partitions may be straight, bent, or curved, slanted or erect, contiguous or separated, so that each sculpture ends up with a distinct character. Never do these interiors become fussily complex, however. The planes remain large and limited in number. The essential aspect of each work is easily comprehended, even when the eye is prohibited total entry.
The brushed aluminum surfaces of most of Simon's pieces create another kind of variation, by compounding the dynamics of a "line" or a plane. The shimmer fluctuates from soft to sharp, often in optically teasing ways, to quicken or retard the eye's movement along a surface. In some of the Thrus, it even creates momentary mirages by "floating" a plane in or out, depending upon the spectator's viewpoint. This kind of surface lighting also enhances the effect of lightness of weight by clothing every mass with diaphonous glitter, allowing it to merge with surrounding space. In Wall Fall, both plain and brushed surfaces are used, enabling us to consider directly their different impacts.
Like most sculpture which employs space as a positive element of form, Simon's work is invariably environmental. Nexus, for example, actively engages wall and floor, forcing them into complicity rather than allowing them to remain neutral. Even when the works are small, they are architectonically conceived - the Mazes like bridges, the Thrus like buildings. A Thru enlarged to the scale of Simon's Coal Street Park sculpture (see fig. 5) would provide us with another level of experience by allowing us to enter it, but even the small ones we see in the exhibition should be explored from all possible angles.
Although similar materials, surfaces, and geometric shapes prevail in both Thrus and Mazes, the two series lead to opposing responses. The closed Thrus are experienced as interiors in which space has definite, but not always immediately comprehensible, volume and shape. The open Mazes are experienced as totally visible exteriors inhabiting endless space. They appear extroverted but somewhat vulnerable, while the Thrus seem introverted but comparatively invulnerable. Both sets of works are about movement through space. In the Mazes, the tube itself is the moving element, linear and open-ended. But in the Thrus, the sculptured form becomes a channel for movement; curved or glancing planes define our journey. The Mazes convey an order, clarity, and precision which verge upon the militaristic, while the Thrus, for all their cleanness of edge and surface, suggest the indefinite and the secretive. As the most recent of Simon's works, the Thrus seem to constitute a movement toward greater complexity and introspection, a kind of reductivist turning from the classical to the romantic.
The cool adjoins the playful. The clear confronts the enigmatic. Clean, precisionist forms become animated and dramatic. Rationalist restraints are surmounted by the idiosyncratic and unpredictable. Addressing the contemporary sculptural concerns of minimalist form, serial development, and environmentalism, Simon demonstrates again that one can work within the seemingly limited and rigid system of geometric abstraction, while retaining a distinctive and highly personal style.
WILLIAM STERLING, PhD
(Former) Director, Sordoni Art Gallery
Wilkes University, Wilkes-Barre, PA
