Bove’s studio is in a handsome, stone-built
hangar that had once housed a small brick
factory. When she took it on 18 months ago,
initially as a place to plan out an exhibition
at 1:1 scale, it was filled with silica dust. Now
it is full of machinery that is as sculptural as
the work it helps to create. ‘We call this the
crusher,’ says Bove’s studio director Teneille
Haggard, pointing to a large red contraption
from which a hefty weight is dropped onto
steel tubing. Nearby is a bright yellow
A-frame hung with heavy chains, also used
to beat metal into submission.
If the process is brutal, the results, which
sit serenely in the ‘clean room’ next door,
are anything but. This is Bove’s new work,
which will soon be on its way to London forLEFT, ASSISTANTS AT WORK
IN THE STUDIO, A FORMER
BRICK FACTORY
BELOW, A WORK IN PROGRESS
IS PARKED NEXT TO BOVE’S
1993 FORD PICK-UP TRUCK‘My work is spontaneous
and improvisational’
an exhibition at David Zwirner’s Mayfair
gallery. In its dazzling use of colour, it marks
yet another new step on her artistic journey.
‘I’m experimenting with a narrower set
of variables,’ she says. In one grand red work,
the original steel has been manipulated into
folds so soft and fluid it could be a close-up
of Renaissance drapery. ‘There’s something
very open-ended about it,’ says Bove as the
changing light deepens the shadows of its
folds. ‘It looks like taffy to me right now, but
there are always new narratives, interstitial
moments.’ Others are assemblages of forms- that love of collage again – one in spring
green and pink, colours that recall Memphis
and the glass works of Ettore Sottsass.
‘That pink makes me think of Sarah Lucas,’
says Bove. ‘It’s fleshy, like pantyhose.’
Bove has never denied the direct influence
of other artists’ work. She has referenced
John Chamberlain in her crushed metal
sculptures, and the big boys of the 20th
century such as Tony Smith and Anthony
Caro in conversation and her forms. But
the way she works is very much her own. ‘My
process is completely expressionistic,’ she says
of a method that allows the material to speak
very much for itself. She never sketches,
though she does walk around the studio
endlessly manipulating pieces of brightly
coloured Play-Doh in her hand. ‘Not even the
big work is prefigured by a drawing,’ she says.
‘It’s spontaneous and improvisational. That’s
why I need the gantries and the hoists!’
An extra-large work, currently being born
in the main space, was created by swinging
together three massive metal plates more
commonly seen patching up roads in the
US. They come complete with found text
scratched onto them, like scores in skin, and
deep orange bursts of rust. ‘First we had
to put soft bends into them by leaning them
upwards and driving over them with a sort
of tank,’ says Bove. ‘Then I picked each one
up with a separate crane and swung them
together until they made a perfect kind of
contact. That’s where they are now welded
together.’ A red painted scrunched section
of steel has been wedged into the space
between them and studded with a black
lacquered disc. ‘There’s a story of movement
and pressure, force and softness,’ says Bove.
This piece will be seen in June in Art
Basel’s Unlimited section, where galleries
show their largest works. ‘I like the idea
of the human scale,’ says Bove, ‘but I like the
idea of bigger too.’ One suspects that, in that
respect, she is far from reaching her limits. ∂
Carol Bove is at David Zwirner, 24 Grafton Street,
London, 8 June-4 August, davidzwirner.com
094 ∑
Art