My
lover is but flesh and bone and if I decide by his mere
corporeal measure, how do I equate his margins to my own.
Sex, sexual or sexuality, each determined by perceptions
on the boundaries of flesh. Flesh delineated by societal
conventions and inherited predilections. The body. Here
Gormley has mass produced himself, metalised self portraiture,
sculptures which pervade the horizon on a North West of
England beach. A provisional region of suburbia, 'darling,
we have a house by the sea side'. Middleclass sensitivities
modified to the acceptability of 'but it is art!' The
ghostly figures, multiple, the form of a naked male, the
metal exposed to the elements of the salt air and corrosion
visible. The imperfections whether from the original casting
to the oxidisation by the salt air imbue the differentiation
in each of us. Britain a multi cultural society, protestations
of politic correctness, assertions of diversity but one
nation, such modified in accordance with our own preference.
Yet, I have a choice of Gormleys' to select, explore within
lascivious intent and I wonder as I kiss his cold lips
and taste the salt and rust whether I am one of the seaside
residents, critical of everything and everyone else in
my social status, but my measures of sex and sexuality
actually structured on pure titillation, my abode, my
castle and kingdom, clandestine, while I fornicate with
multiplicity and hypocrisy. How to be British!
This
installation by Gormley is exceptional and offers a different
experience for each individual who visits it. For further
information on Gormley, please visit
www.antonygormley.com.
