SCULPTURAL FORM AS VISIBLE SPEECH

"With the use of many examples we have attempted to show how forms arise out of the gaseous elements, but above all how it is to movement that we must ascribe these forms...

 We have as yet only spoken in general about many possibilities of movement, but we will now call them by their true names. In the abundance of possible movements in the organ of speech, certain ever-repeated characteristic archetypal movements, which we know as the vowels and consonants, can be singled out... it is these archetypal movements of the vowels and consonants that give birth to all manner of forms."

In the fall of 1971, I read the above words in Theodor Schwenk's book, Sensitive Chaos. To indicate the deeper perspectives underlying his water research work, Schwenk added the following quote from Rudolf Steiner:

"The human being as he stands before us is a completed form. But this form has been created out of movement. It has arisen from archetypal forms that were continually taking shape and passing away again. Movement does not proceed from quiescence; on the contrary, that which is in a state of rest originates in movement. In eurythmy we are reaching back to primordial movement.

 What is it that my Creator, working out of original, cosmic being, does in me as a man? If you would give me the answer to this question you must make movements of eurythmy. God makes eurythmy movements, and as the result of His eurythmy there arises the form of man..."

Lecture One, Eurythmy as Visible Speech, June 24, 1924

Clearly, these imaginations inspired Schwenk's scientific research as surely as they were intended to inspire eurythmists. From the moment I first read them, they also fired my imagination and creative will as a sculptor. Even so, I had no way of knowing that these words were opening the door to a major aspect of my life's work.

I recall thinking to myself: If the human form arises through the artistic weaving together of all the vowel and consonant gestures, then is it possible that all other forms also originate from the gestural qualities of speech, just not all together? This question lit up in me as something to explore as a sculptor.  However, my ability to pursue this question as a practical matter depended on previous experiences I had already had as a sculptor.

I began sculpting in 1961, at the age of 15. I attended the Ontario College of Art in Toronto, majoring in sculpture, between 1964-66. I was totally in my element at Art College but left after two years. I was looking for a larger perspective that would give meaning and direction to my creative aspirations.

I met anthroposophy in the fall of 1969 and two weeks later arrived at Emerson College in Sussex, England. Very soon, I realized that I was encountering perspectives and experiences that offered the meaningful direction I was looking for. Everything at Emerson — the people as much as the content of the courses — spoke to me deeply, but I was especially moved by my experience of eurythmy, an art of movement introduced by Rudolf Steiner. I formed an immediate affinity with eurythmy and seriously considered pursuing a eurythmy training. In the end, eurythmy opened new directions for me as a sculptor.

At Emerson College, eurythmy, as well as painting, was approached from what I would call a listening gesture more than a speaking one. For example, instead of expressing ourselves through painting, we were asked to paint a page first in blue, and then a page of yellow, as a way to steep ourselves in the blueness of blue, and the yellowness of yellow. In this way, we were able to discover how the mood and quality of each color could resonate within us, similar to the way music resonates within us. Rather than feel sympathy for some colors and antipathy for others, we learned to feel the relative warmth or coolness, and stimulating or calming quality of different colors. I was fascinated by the way such felt qualities were simultaneously very intimate and personal, and at the same time, objective and universal.

I discovered something similar in eurythmy. Eurythmy was grounded in the basic possibilities of moving upwards and downwards, forward and backward, in straight lines or curves. As painting simple patches of color awoke the feelings of redness and blueness, in eurythmy the different dimensions of movement evoked feelings of levity and weight, expansion and contraction.  I remember one day in particular, when I was dutifully imitating the movements my teacher made for the vowel sounds. As I spread out my arms for the sound and gesture of 'Ah', I was spontaneously filled with a feeling of wonder and awe. The fact that a speech sound and a movement could share the same specific and objective feeling struck me as profoundly significant. From that moment, I trusted that I could experience in time, if not immediately, the  objective relationship between all the different sounds of speech and their corresponding eurythmy movements.

Learning to open myself to the qualities of color, speech sounds and movement inspired me to cultivate such a listening gesture with sculptural forms. First, what were the elements of form equivalent to the spectrum of colors and the range of human movement? And secondly, what qualities did those elements of form evoke? 

What till then had not been obvious, soon became obvious: the world of form was rooted in such simple elements as curve and angle, convex and concave. And so I began to model in clay simple convex domes, concave bowls, transforming a dome into an angular ridge and back again to the dome. Outwardly, these forms were nothing special, nothing to exhibit. But I soon realized that their true significance lay in the inner experiences I had while making them, not just once, but again and again. The world of form began to speak and sing to me in a way I had never experienced before. Music evokes joy or sorrow; stimulates us to dance or be quietly calmed. Now I began to experience something like musical feelings with natural and sculptural form. I felt like a musician who had heard and played music all his life but had never felt the music. I was a sculptor who had seen and made sculptures most of my life but only now was I beginning to feel more consciously the language and music of form.

In retrospect, it is clear to me that the views I quoted above from Schwenk and Steiner would not have spoken to me as something to take up practically if I had not already discovered the qualitative language of form through the repetition of my simple form exercises.  My creative will was ready to search for, not invent, forms that made visible the qualities of the various sounds of speech and their corresponding movements in eurythmy.

It occurred to me, but I was never imoved to create human figures making the eurythmic gestures of these sounds of speech. Instead, I tried to visualize and feel as vividly as possible the gesture, say of `B', so that the clay was formed by a particular quality of movement . The finished form would necessarily be static, nevertheless, having been created out of movement, the viewer could reverse the process and experience the form as living movement. If eurythmy makes the sounds of speech visible through particular qualities of movement, sculptural form also makes speech visible through the imaginative gestures that guides the sculptor's hands in creating a sculptural form. 

The Gesture of `B'

"So if one takes the consonants out of the human being, the art of sculpture arises."

R. Steiner, Dec. 2, 1922

I will now describe the process by which I came to the forms for a few of the consonantal sounds. Trying to capture the quality and gesture of `B' offered some early lessons in developing a method of working. When making the gesture of `B' in eurythmy, we make an enveloping or enclosing gesture. This led me to try bending a slab of clay into a concave surface. However, as soon as I did this, I was left unconvinced that this captured the quality of `B'. Through this experience I recognized two criteria for any forms I created: 1) they had to evoke the feeling of the eurythmic gestures for a sound, 2) they had to be forms that most likely could be found in nature as archetypal form types.

In making simple convex domes and concave hollows, I had already discovered that a ball-shape could be experienced both as expanding outwards from the center, as well as contracting inward from the periphery. In fact, I had experienced the surface of a ball as arising through the interplay of both an expanding force from within and a contracting force from the periphery. A ball shape was a picture of these two forces meeting each other so as to bring them to rest or stasis. I recalled that when introducing the `B' gesture, eurythmists would sometimes suggest imagining a baby or ball held within the enclosed arms. Without imaging something resisting the enclosing gesture the arms would continue to close in until no space remained. It was the tension between expanding and contracting coming to rest that seemed to be the essential quality of `B'. Sometime later, when studying the two-dimensional eurythmy figures Steiner had designed, I was encouraged to note that the cool enclosing blue of the veiled arms was countered by the warm expanding yellow of the dress.

So I came to see a simple ball shape as an archetypal form that had something of a`B' quality. Over time, however, I came to see there was an additional dimension that further enhanced the 'B' quality of a form. One day while working on the `B' motif, it occurred to me that the contracting gesture from the periphery could be intensified by introducing a slight flattening tendency into the curve. The pure convex curve of a ball over-emphasizes the expanding from within--such as we experience with a ripening fruit. However, if I brought too much flattening into the form the contracting quality would overpower the inner expansiveness so as to squeeze all life out of the form.

To create a harmonious equilibrium between the inner expansiveness of the convex curve and the contracting rigidity of the flattening tendency posed a fascinating artistic challenge. In trying to achieve this balance of forces for a 'B' form I had to avoid a mechanical blending of curve and angle. Instead I learned to be playful in weaving the enlivening expansiveness of the curve with the crystal clarity of a flat surface until a convincing harmony emerged between them. This playful weaving of round and angle was in reality a playful harmonizing of expansion and contraction as inner qualities. It reminded me of the way a good teacher or speaker can artistically---not mechanically--weave between objective thinking (angular) and enlivening anecdotes (round). 

Outwardly, a 'B' form arises through the harmonizing of roundness and angularity that often leads to simple bud-like forms. Inwardly, 'B' is the inner equilibrium between buoyant warmth and light-filled clarity.

`B' in many linguistic traditions is the `house'. The sculptural and architectural potential to create forms that show the living tension between inner and outer is only a new way to discover this ancient wisdom.

 "In `B' we have the imitation of something which protects and shelters us from outside ourselves. In `B' we feel that we are enveloped in something `B' is always enveloping a kind of shelter. "

R. Steiner, Eurythmy As Visible Speech (EVS) p 43-4.

The Gesture of `M'

With `M' we again have an interplay of outer and inner forces--the one expanding outwards from within and the other contracting inwards from the periphery. However, instead of a stasis created through a direct meeting of the two, we imagine the expanding outwards is dominant in one place while the pressing in is stronger in an adjoining place. This can be visualized as a gentle undulating surface flowing from convex to concave. Although each force predominates in some places, overall there is a harmonious balance between the two. Neither one dominates or overpowers the other creating a dreamy and fluid undulation of the surface. The human muscular system, with its undulating surfaces, is a good example of the 'M' form type.

While a form with convex and concave curves flowing one into the other has something of the 'M' quality, here too, there is another dimension that further enhances the 'M' quality. On a few occasions, Rudolf Steiner suggested that sculptors concern themselves with what he called, a "double-bent surface".

Double-bent surfaces can be found in many living forms, but most especially our human form, for example, between any two knuckles of our hands. The knuckles themselves are convex while the surface between them appears to be concave. If we move our fingertip from one knuckle to the other, the surface between indeed is concave. However, if we move our finger between the two knuckles we will see and feel it is a convex surface. The surface between two knuckles is actually both convex and concave curves interpenetrating each other, thus,`double-bent'.

With a little attention, we will observe that the high point of the convex curve is identical with the low point of the concave curve. in addition, we will discover that Mother Nature employs the double-bent surface, with seemingly infinite variations, where a living form divides into two or more parts. The concave curve separates while the convex curve unites so that the parts of a living organism remain united to the whole. For example, note the double-bent curve that separates a peanut shell into two lobs, containing two peanuts, without feeling they are stuck together or in danger of breaking in two. 

In addition to the above outer manifestation and function of double-bent surfaces in natural forms, the quality of a double-bent surface is comparable to a certain inner experience. If we observe the inner gesture of speaking, irrespective of the content, we will feel an inner welling up or expanding comparable to the felt quality of a convex curve. Similarly, when we observe the inner gesture of listening we feel an opening receptivity comparable to that of a concave curve. The double-bent curve reveals a secret about speaking and listening. A good speaker--such as a good teacher--not only attends to what she is saying but also attends to her listeners at the same time. In large part, the inspiration for what a good speaker says, and how they say it, originates from what she perceives from her listeners--how they are engaged, confused, bored, etc?. Conversely, a good listener is not an empty and passive vessel. A good listener must hold back their own thoughts in order to actively enter into the speaker's thoughts. A good speaker cultivates the inner gesture of a 'listening speaker' that is similar to the dynamic interplay of a double-bent surface. Similarly, a good listener strives to be actively receptive in a way that is comparable to the inner dynamic of the double-bent curve. Any question about how the double-bent curve can embody the qualities of both good speaking and good listening is resolved when we consider how both are essential to good conversation. The double-bent curve is a living image of good conversation. If the double-bent curve also embodies the quality of`M' , then the secret of 'M' is revealed to us as the quality of good conversation. Words like, mediate, moderate and meet point to this connection.

"`M' has the quality of entering right into something outside itself" (EVS, p.50)

" ‘M' contains within it the element of comprehension, of understanding. It conforms itself to everything and understands everything" (EVS, p 53) 

The Gesture of `D' 

If we look at a ball of clay from the side, we observe that the ball form is widest in the middle while narrowing to a point both at the bottom and top. We can redistribute the clay in the mid-region so that we bring the widest part closer and closer to the bottom until the widest part is actually touching the board, while maintaining the original convex curve of the ball. We could describe this change in form by saying the ball becomes a gumdrop or beehive form. 

If we have inwardly participated in this transformation we can describe the ball as feeling relatively buoyant compared to the gradual settling into weight through the transitional forms. Only when the widest part reaches the board do we feel the forms go from "settling" to "settled". It is the dynamic transition from the ball to the gum-drop form, most especially, the felt quality of going from "settling" to "settled", that is comparable to the downward gesture of `D'--as indicated even in the 'd' of 'settled.".

"D' is the pointing towards something, the raying out towards something" (EVA, p. 45) " `D' , as I told you, is a pointing downwards, or indeed a pointing in any direction." (EVA, p.67)

The Gesture of 'K'

If I say the sounds `M' and then `K' and then ask which one has the quality of a curve and which one feels angular, without fail I get an immediate response that `M' is curvilinear and `K' is angular.  The flat surfaces and angles of a three- or four-sided pyramid, as well as many crystal forms, are obvious examples of 'K'--the hard 'c' of 'crystal' supports this view. All manner of variations of the 'K' gesture can be created when a material substance such as clay is used to make visible multiple planes of light streaming through space and intersecting at a particular point. In addition to the outer expression of 'K' in crystal forms, it is not difficult to connect the 'K' quality to the inner experience of wakeful clarity or crystal clarity.

"In the sound `K', we have matter governed, mastered by spirit." (EVS, p. 78)

Not only are there many sculptural variations for the sound quality of`K', but for all the sound gestures. None of these archetypal sounds of the consonants can be narrowly reduced to one specific shape. At most, each sound constitutes a family of form types that share a common quality through one or more specific elements of form--such as roundness or flatness, convex, concave or double-bent, and so on.

Metamorphosis

A major contribution made by Rudolf Steiner was his introduction of metamorphosis to the visual arts. He showed how sculptural forms no longer need stand alone in space but could now be experienced in time.

A few years back, a possible commission led me to explore the "evolutionary sequence" of consonants for a large sculptural relief. The evolutionary sequence is a series of 12 consonantal gestures given by Steiner for eurythmy. The speech sounds proceed in the following order: B, M, D, N, R, L, G, Sch, F, S, H, T.

Given the name "evolutionary sequence", it is a mystery to myself, that I did not at first anticipate the obvious that I would be developing a metamorphic sequence of forms--but I did not. However, in retrospect, I am grateful for this oversight, for it was only as I was creating the `M' form after `B' and before `D', that my eyes opened spontaneously to obvious metamorphosis of one form into the next. Precisely because I was not trying to create a metamorphic sequence--but simply working with the inherent qualities of those consonants as I had come to know them--the living laws of metamorphosis became immediate and vivid experience as I had never experienced before.

Overtime, I have come to appreciate the significance Rudolf Steiner saw for artistically creating metamorphic form sequences at this juncture in human evolution. I believe Rudolf Steiner introduced the principle of metamorphosis into sculpture and the other visual arts at this time in order to help humankind develop new inner faculties and capacities. To perceive forms as a language of living dynamic forces that metamorphose from form to form in a lawful manner, rather than merely fixed material objects, will become increasingly vital to our capacity to resolve the dire social, economic and ecological challenges of our time.

Therapeutic Forms

A final direction I would like to mention is the therapeutic potential of sculptural forms that express the qualities of the consonants. Therapeutic eurythmy is founded on the reality that particular illnesses can be attributed to a spiritual deficiency with regard to the human organism's relationship to the qualities of one or more consonant and/or vowel.

"And when illness of some kind or another overtakes the human being, then the forms corresponding to his divine archetype receive injury ...we must go back to those divine movements: we must help the sick human being to make those movements for himself" (EVS, p. 37)

 "What is the lung? It is a consonant that has been spoken out of the cosmos and has taken on a form... The heart is another consonant which has been uttered out of the cosmos"

Rudolf Steiner, Dec. 2, 1922

If there are sculptural expressions of these divine archetypes we know as the consonants that have a bearing on the health of the human organism, then it seems reasonable to investigate the therapeutic potential of sculptural forms that embody these archetypes. It is possible to imagine conditions where a person, either in addition to or instead of doing therapeutic eurythmy, might benefit from modeling or carving particular form types related to particular consonants. Especially, if someone were unable to do eurythmy or sculpture, it would be possible for such a person to view and/or touch particular forms on a regular basis.

Future Potentials

I have come to see working with the different sounds of speech in relation to archetypal form-types to be an excellent way for students of sculpture, as well as experienced sculptors, to extend their technical and expressive repertoire of forms. The inevitable habits and limitations we have as artists can be countered by creating the full spectrum of form types related to the full scope of speech sounds. In this way, we extend our vocabulary for the language of form. 

It has been of the greatest significance for me as a sculptor to discover form types that mirror spiritual qualities active both in the outer forms of nature, as well as within our inner life of experience. My efforts to create sculptural expressions of the consonants has led me to discover an archetypal language of form qualities that enhances my work as a sculptor, but equally my life as a human being. I allow for the likelihood that some, if not all, the forms I have developed in relation to the sounds of speech may be imperfect or mistaken. Nevertheless, the very mystery and elusiveness of the challenge only enhances my sense that the very striving in itself has for me inherent meaning and value. Although it may not be obvious at first glance how the relationship between the sounds of speech and sculptural form has practical relevance to the the present needs of the world, I place these efforts into the world in the hope and trust that others will in time see their relevance and develop them further.