Private commission, Virginia, United States,
RiverDance is a buoyant sculpture with a color, accelerating her movement. A staccato of form in space, she is chronometrically choreographed in no-use-of-computer calculations of weight distribution and bent stainless steel tubing/elements.
Is she diagonal, is she horizontal; is she vertical or a square, ending or beginning, moving or a standstill? It is none, and all of the above. The warmth of her entity expands beyond the strict numeric boundaries of her dimensions. Arthur Rimbaud notes that the poet is a “voleur de feu” and “porteur de progrès”.
A similarly boisterous hue struck me while walking amongst the summer flower cacophony – an eruption of a liberated spectrum, which cannot be more unconfined – in Cooperstown NY. I thought of another poet, in-music, Billy Strayhorn and his “Flowers Die of Love”.
Perhaps RiverDance is a wordless poem, reflective in color of inexhaustible optimism and unstoppable tenderness; an abbreviated verse with her presences and absences of matter unto three-dimensional space; and a color adventuring as a conduit into another dimension’s threshold, maybe the one where Rimbaud’s “voleur de feu” and “porteur de progres” might be living in..
Snapshots of her making as well as a first outing on the way to her home.