When I visited the Richard Deacon exhibition at Tate Millbank, there were quite a lot of single men of a certain age studying the exhibits with rapt attention — some even making notes. (I realise I’ve just described myself…) This is perhaps because the show is all about the glories of construction, and reminiscent of hobbies on an industrial scale. The exhibits are made of bent wood, looping metal, other materials cut or sewn or carved, exoskeletons of imaginary, or rather invented, things. Much of the early work in this fascinating survey is linear, the structures resolutely open, but the emphasis gradually becomes more volumetric and involved with three-dimensional plasticity. Richard Deacon (born 1949) is an object-maker of intriguing presence and diversity.
This survey is chronological rather than thematic and begins in the first room with three sculptures on the floor and five large drawings on the walls. The sculptures are all untitled and recall a seashell, the interior jointing for a plinth, and origami in fibreglass treated to look like galvanised steel. The drawings hold the attention, particularly in the way a final design seems to crystallise out of a matrix of linear possibilities. But I do take exception to the style of labelling exhibits now so prevalent in museums: I think the titles, dates and media should be presented beside the object in question, and not fashionably grouped near the door to ensure some sort of specious ‘wall purity’. And I think most visitors would agree with this, though their wishes are often the last to be considered.
In the second room are three open structures, two made of laminated wood, one of galvanised steel with wood and canvas, which are springing, optimistic yet oddly tranquil forms, resolved rather than tentacular.
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