Yoko VIII

source:tateorguk
Yoko VIII is a figurative sculpture of a young Japanese woman cast in white pigmented resin and meticulously finished. The sculpture was produced in an edition of six plus one artist’s proof; Tate’s copy is number four in the series. The figure is naked and she stands bolt upright, her shoulders back, her hands at her sides. She has a slim, boyish figure with small high breasts and a taut stomach. Her head is tilted slightly downwards, her long fringe framing her face. Her eyes are closed and her face is expressionless.

The sculpture is one of a series of works Brown began making in 1999 using his wife as a model. All the works are made to scale using Yoko Brown’s exact measurements; the sculptures vary between half and three-quarter scale. They are all cast in the same white acrylic composite resin but the figure is variously dressed and posed in each. In some versions she stands more provocatively in high heels with her hands on her hips; in others she is more demurely dressed in underwear; in one she is completely covered in a sheet-like veil. Yoko VIII is arguably the most subtle of the series to date; the figure’s inward focus gives the sculpture a quiet, meditative quality.

Writing about the Yoko series in the third person, Brown has acknowledged his influences, saying, ‘With this project Brown pursues a sculptural ideal, a perfection of the figure that looks to the formalism of classical sculpture from ancient Greece, contemplative religious sculpture from the East and the more animated sexiness of eighteenth and nineteenth century allegorical sculptures. Unlike classical portraiture, which was nearly always in bronze or marble, Yoko is not represented as a pompously elevated individual but more as a universal everywoman’ (unpublished artist’s statement, 2002).

Brown combines high and low cultural references. The slim form and precise stance of Yoko VIII recall Little Dancer Aged Fourteen, 1880-1 (Tate N06076) by Edgar Degas (1834-1917), which also replicates a female figure on a reduced scale. The pristine finish of the Yoko sculptures situates them in a fine art tradition and their clean white surface refers to the marble of classical and neo-classical sculpture. The small scale and variation of the works recall porcelain figurines or children’s dress-up dolls.

Brown’s previous work also played with archetypal forms and miniature scale. In the early 1990s he made a number of works based on the figures used by architects to populate architectural models and thereby indicate human scale. Before the Yoko series, Brown made a series of half-scale self-portraits all called Don. Each work in that series was cast from the same mould, showing the artist in casual clothes and relaxed stance, and was painted in a different high-gloss colour. The replicated figures and artificial colours recall the yellow multiple Madonna, 1982 by Katharina Fritsch (born 1956). Brown is also known for digital photographs made in collaboration with Stephen Murphy which depict imaginative landscapes.
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source:pairstorecombr
Yoko VIII é uma escultura figurativa de uma jovem japonesa em resina branca. A escultura foi produzida em uma série limitada; em exposição na Tate está a de número quatro da série. A figura é nua e sempre ereta, com os ombros para trás, suas mãos em seus lados. Ela tem um corpo esguio e com seios pequenos. Sua cabeça está inclinada ligeiramente para baixo, sua longa franja emoldurando seu rosto. Seus olhos estão fechados e seu rosto é inexpressivo.

Brown começou a fazer em 1999 com sua esposa como modelo. Todos os trabalhos são feitos em escala utilizando medidas exatas de Yoko Brown.
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source:parisartcom
Don Brown (GB) s’est tout d’abord choisi lui-même comme le modèle de ses sculptures. Invariablement intitulées «Don», elles firent l’objet de sa première exposition personnelle chez Sadie Coles en 1997 et déjà étaient de moitié plus petites que nature. Don s’y représentait dans la banalité parfaitement non héroï;que d’un homme du XXème siècle, loin des modèles triomphants de la statuaire antique qu’on a parfois convoquée à son sujet. Puis il a entrepris, il y a presque dix ans, de ne plus repésenter que son épouse. Comme les sculptures dont il était le sujet, celle consacrées à Yoko sont plus petites que le sujet lui même, de moitié ou de trois quart. L’effet est immédiat : on a envie de protéger ces figurines que l’on toise, et qui semblent comme pétrifiées dans la blancheur immaculée qu’elles arborent généralement — celle d’une fine résine acrylique, qui restitue à la perfection la précision maniaque avec laquelle elles sont sculptées. Car comme le laisse percevoir leur petite taille, elles ne peuvent avoir été moulées sur l’original, et ne peuvent donc être que le fruit d’un patient travail : en cela encore réside leur singularité dans le paysage manufacturé de l’art de notre époque.

Comme les statues égyptiennes dont la longueur d’une robe, la forme d’une coiffure ou la manière de représenter les yeux permettent la datation, ce ne sont que quelques accessoires qui inscrivent Yoko dans une éventuelle temporalité : la forme d’un bikini, une paire de plateform-shoes, une coiffure, une robe.
Yoko IX (2004), hiératique, frontale, dans une longue robe qui lui colle au corps, un bras plié vers le haut, ressemble d’ailleurs à une image générique de ces statues égyptiennes tandis que, juchée sur des talons aiguille, les bras le long du corps et la cassure de la taille marquée par un léger déhanchement, Yoko II (2002) évoque les «Large Nudes» de Helmut Newton. Réduit à un seul personnage, à une seule couleur et à peu d’accessoires, chaque décision, chaque variation de la pose, chaque détail prend une signification dramatique : Yoko évolue devant nous dans un ralenti absolu. Et c’est aussi dans une certaine manière que Don Brown semble vouloir les produire, quelques sculptures chaque année, tout au plus, dans un laborieux processus d’enregistrement du temps qui passe.