![]() |
Phillip King, Through, 1965 |
Phillip King was a key figure amongst the ‘New Generation’ sculptors who emerged from St Martin’s School of Art in the 1960s – students, there, of Anthony Caro. Other ‘New Generation’ sculptors included David Annesley, William Tucker and Tim Scott. The label ‘New Generation’ derived from the title of a series of exhibitions held at the Whitechapel Gallery in the early 1960s which showcased their work. The work was characterized by a forthright formalist abstraction – pioneered in the UK by Caro, in response to the ambition of the American Abstract Expressionist painters and the associated sculpture of David Smith. The work embraced industrial materials (including the ‘new’ material of fibreglass) and highly coloured surfaces, and was in extreme contrast to the natural materials and organic humanism of Henry Moore, who until then was the dominant figure in British sculpture – and for whom both Caro and King worked as assistants. It was also, as Charles Harrison put it in an article for Artforum in 1968, a reaction against the post-war angst of European sculpture in the fifties.
King, studied modern languages at Cambridge before enrolling at St Martin’s – but quickly established himself as one of the finest artists of his generation – witty and inventive. He will, undoubtedly, be best remembered for a series of striking works from the 1960s and early 70s, including his distinctive use of the cone (eg Rosebud, 1962-5).
Just as the ‘New Generation’ work was a rejection of Moore and a previous generation’s preoccupation with humanist expression, so too a subsequent generation of St Martin’s sculptors, taught by Caro and King, turned away from the ‘school of Caro’ to the relative ‘formlessness’ of land art, performance art and conceptual art – artists such as Richard Long, Barry Flanagan and Gilbert & George. Bruce McLean famously described a typical sculpture ‘forum’ of the Caro/King era, as Twelve adult men with pipes who would walk around for hours and mumble.
Although the high Modernism of formalist abstraction became, and perhaps still is, unfashionable, pieces by King from this period, appear, today, as refreshingly bold and satisfying.
Articles and obituaries
Jo Baring (2021) “He Transformed How Sculpture is Made – a tribute to Phillip King”, Apollo
Charles Harrison (1968) “Phillip King, Sculpture, 1960-68”, Artforum
Tim Hilton (2021) “Phillip King Obituary”, The Guardian
Addendum
Letter from Christopher Frayling, published in The Guardian 22 August 2021
Phillip King became professor of sculpture at the Royal College of Art, London, in 1980, succeeding Bernard Meadows. Jocelyn Stevens took over as rector of the RCA in 1984. He was volcanic and impetuous, whereas Phillip was easy-going and thoughtful – predictably, they did not get on.
At a senate meeting in 1990, Stevens in the chair was at full throttle, shouting at one of the other professors for something or other and slamming his big black notebook on to the table – a sure sign that he was about to explode.
Phillip stood up mid-flow, said: “I don’t want to play this game any more” (I was sitting next to him at the time), and walked out of the room. Stevens barked: “And where do you think you’re going?”
Phillip didn’t even turn round. He knew exactly where he was going – back to his studio and his practice as a sculptor. He never attended another meeting at the RCA and resigned shortly afterwards. His noble exit-line soon became college folklore. As well as being a great sculptor, Phillip was a man of integrity and courage.
![]() |
Phillip King, Rosebud, 1962-5 |
![]() |
Phillip King, Genghis Khan, 1963 |
![]() |
Phillip King, And the Birds Began to Sing, 1964 |
![]() |
Phillip King, Slant, 1966-2013 |
![]() |
Phillip King, Nile, 1967 |
![]() |
Phillip King, Green Streamer, 1970 |
![]() |
Phillip King, Dunstable Reel, 1970 |
Phillip King |
No comments:
Post a Comment