Richard Long

Richard Long

Richard Long

© Richard Long, courtesy: Lisson Gallery, foto: James Wainman, detail

On the occasion of the 'BANG! Festival of the Big Bang', M is presenting an exhibition by the British artist Richard Long (born 1945), one of the most unique voices in contemporary art. Very early on in his career, he went his own way. A path he has continued to follow to this today.

Richard Long

© Richard Long, courtesy: Lisson Gallery, foto: James Wainman, detail

When Richard Long was in his third year at the West of England College of Art, his parents were summoned by the management. They were told that their son was to be expelled from school, and that he was no longer allowed to have contact with his fellow students. Not even outside of class. According to them, young Richard was 'quite mad'.

 

It was not down to his attitude, he was a withdrawn, quiet boy, not a troublemaker. It was all because of the art projects he made. For example, he rolled a big snowball down a slope and then took a picture. Not of the snowball, but of the trail it had left.

 

At his second art school, the progressive Saint Martins College of Art in London, things were a little better. He experimented with what he loved doing: going for long walks, creating works of art with materials found along the way, and then capturing them in photographs. But he was not guided or encouraged. One of the teachers did take him aside once and said fatherly: 'I'm sure you'll find a job with the Forestry Department when you graduate.'

 

Long made his first known work in 1967, 'A Line Made by Walking'. He walked back and forth in a grassy field until a path had formed. He photographed that. By the time the film was developed, there was nothing left of the track in the grass. The only witness was the photograph. Nicholas Serota, former director of Tate wrote about this: With that work, which he made when he was 22, Long changed our conception of what a sculpture is. He gave new meaning to an activity as old as mankind itself. Nothing in the history of art could prepare us for the originality of what he did there.' A sculpture no longer had to be something tangible that you could put on a pedestal, so to speak. It could also take the form of a fleeting, disappearing trail in the landscape.

 

Long himself does not consider this transience to be the core of his work. In an interview with the British newspaper The Guardian, he put it this way: When I make a work, I'm interested in realising a certain idea. Of course, some of my stone lines will just disappear. They end up overgrown, or sheep move the stones, or what do I know. That's fine, that's the way it is in nature. But it has nothing to do with why I made that work.'

Richard Long, 'Footpath Waterline', India, 2003

© Richard Long, 'Footpath Waterline', India, 2003, courtesy: Lisson Gallery, photography: Ken Adlard