In an art world saturated with instant digital documentation, the sight of visitors taking selfies with masterpieces has become commonplace. For Turner Prize-winning sculptor Tony Cragg, this modern phenomenon is not something to lament but to welcome.
From Liverpool to International Acclaim
Tony Cragg, the lean 76-year-old Royal Academician, could easily pass for two decades younger. Born in Liverpool, he has spent much of his life in Wuppertal, Germany, building an illustrious career that spans over fifty years. His journey began against his father's wishes. "He said, 'What a waste of time and education!'" Cragg recalls. "My father was an electrical engineer and thought sculpture was a very dull and unnecessary activity."
Despite this initial resistance, Cragg's decided views propelled him to success, culminating in winning the Turner Prize in 1988. His latest exhibition features at London's Lisson Gallery until 31 January, showcasing recent works that evoke twisted skeletons and dynamic, free-standing forms.
Embracing Change in the Gallery Space
While Cragg has previously expressed reservations about audio guides interrupting the direct dialogue between viewer and artwork, his stance on selfies is remarkably open. "No, I don't have a problem with that," he says. "People are bound to respond in different ways." This acceptance reflects his broader philosophy that a hundred people will have a hundred different interpretations of a single piece, each informed by their own background and education.
Technology isn't the only change he's witnessed. Cragg is astonished by contemporary art's current popularity. "When I was in France, the arts bodies were trying to take modern art out into the countryside – but the people threw food at it!" he laughs. Now, he notes, "everywhere you go has its own gallery."
A British Heart with a European Perspective
Despite his long residency in Germany, Cragg's British roots remain strong. "I've lived abroad for the main part of my life, but I still feel very British," he confesses. "When I come back to Britain, immediately I'm more relaxed. I love British humour. I love the weather. I love the food." He remains a devoted Liverpool FC supporter, ruefully comparing an artist's reputation to a footballer's form: "you're only as good as your last game."
This connection makes his view on recent UK developments particularly poignant. Brexit was a "bitter disappointment," he admits. "This idea of isolationism, stepping back – I think it's bad for the general population." He recalls the nationalist tendencies of his youth, where the French were 'Frogs' and the Germans were 'Krauts', and his parents' initial unhappiness about his move to Germany. His time abroad, however, broadened his perspective dramatically.
Cragg's early work, such as the frieze 'Riot' produced after the 1984 miners' strike, directly engaged with Britain's social climate. He left in 1977, at the beginning of the Thatcher era, which he describes as "a very extreme form of capitalism that paid no regard to the needs of the wider population."
The Enduring Power of Sculpture
For Cragg, the purpose of sculpture has evolved far beyond creating literal representations. "For me, representing exactly what's in front of you is a senseless activity," he states. He acknowledges masters like Bernini but believes the time for purely figurative work has passed. He traces a lineage through Rodin, who incorporated Freudian ideas, to Duchamp's readymades, and finally to contemporaries like Damien Hirst.
Having worked in a laboratory before his art career, Cragg is a firm advocate for STEM education. However, he issues a powerful warning: "Art is one of the best ways for people to have a better existence. It makes life more livable. To ignore that, in a way that has happened in Britain, is almost criminal." He argues that without art, children lose the ability to visualise what they are learning in science and technology.
His passion for his craft remains undimmed. "I hate holidays," he declares, preferring a summer retreat that combines nature with a studio. His creative process is relentless; a list of new ideas—"Recall, For a While, Long-stop, On and off"—read from his phone, was generated not over a month, but in a single restless night.
As his new works stand sentinel in a London gallery, ready for both deep contemplation and casual selfies, Tony Cragg continues to prove that his artistic journey is as dynamic and evolving as the sculptures he creates.
