by Mary Ann Hushlak I came upon Maurizio Cattelan’s staged sculpture Him (2001) in an exhibition at the Hayward Gallery ( The Human Factor: The Figure in Contemporary Sculpture 17 June – 7 September 2014). It was on the uppermost floor, though not amongst the many pieces in the more open-plan area. Instead, it inhabited its own space, a long, rectangular room. To reach Him , you entered through a doorway. At a distance at the far end of the room a single diminutive figure was kneeling in prayer. The figure wore a white-flecked mid-grey woollen jacket. The white of his shirt collar peeked above the collar to a neatly trimmed haircut. A schoolboy, a child, the bottom of his shoes clean, all very neat. I approached and my gaze moved from the bottom of those pristine shoes to the knee-high socks and fabric folds of his trousers at the knees. I continued, passing the figure and then I saw his face. An inner gasp. Far more than a double-take. Disbelief. Shock. The face – th
writings from and about this strange and necessary business of making performances.