All of the sculptures had really harsh features, and I could relate to the notion of the sitter's features being ingrained into the artist's mind. "Repetition. Repetition. Repetition." It's what happens when you sit and look at something for long enough and draw or sculpt it. You can feel the lines and curves with your own hands and mimic them with a crazy kind of likeness. Yet, at the same time, you can't mimic them at all. Giacometti spoke of this saying something like the face looks incredibly flat from a straight-on perspective, then from the sides it's wonderfully rounded. He explained that it's somewhat impossible to capture this perfectly in sculpture. Maybe his frustration explains why his method is so repetitive and frantic.
The men in his sculptures are always acting, moving, working although in their still form while the women stand still. To me, this says that the Giacometti can connect with men; can see their purpose, and accepts that they are designed to work. He feels detached from women, like they are delicate, fragile, there to be observed and touched. I didn't want to interact with any of the 'moving' sculptures, yet felt myself wanting to touch and admire the still figures.
Existentialism was a theme that existed in the exhibition. What is the point of man in a seemingly pointless universe? Samuel Beckett had a similar problem to tackle in his plays Waiting For Godot, and Endgame. He creates a satire around man waiting for something that never arrives. Maybe this idea provides ground for why Giacometti applied himself to sculpture as well as painting. This way his work is tangible as well as completely viewable; if you create substance you have served your purpose to the world and your existence. By changing your surroundings you have left a mark for the people that follow and this is the most exciting thing man can do: evolve.

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