Mark Dedrie

Mark Dedrie, moving artist Robin d'Arcy Shillcock At first glance, the attention of the viewer studying the sculptures of Mark Dedrie (1962) is attracted by the smooth aspect and the advanced stylization of these. Indeed, despite the fact that with Dedrie, color gives way to form, his approach is not strictly speaking classic. Rather, it is a question of the transfiguration of a world of color and action into a universe of presences, volumes and pure lines, and he manages to evoke lightness with the help of a heavy material: the bronze. This results in sculptures that are visually appealing and pleasant to the touch. There are not many sculptors capable of effectively capturing the style and allure of animals, and even fewer of achieving the refinement of Mark Dedrie. The result are fine and sensual sculptures, gracefully translating the style of ducks and other wading birds. Quite frankly, I can only name a few. François Pompon (France 1855-1933), made Rodin's marbles, before asserting himself as one of the most important animal sculptors of his time. His work aroused the current that I would qualify as 'Movement of Form', in reaction to the work of anecdotal Animaliers such as Barye and Fremiet who were mainly interested in the Struggle of the Titans; Gorilla kidnapping the beautiful innocent (theme of 'Beauty and the Beast' and later King Kong), Leopard wrestling with the snake etc. I will then quote Adrian Sorrel (England, 1932) and Claude Lhoste (France, 1929) who seek the same level of fluidity and perfection as Dedrie. Lhoste's field of action extends to a wider series of subjects, which is explained by his long experience. In the catalog of the annual Birds in Art exhibition, which has been organized for 25 years at the Leigh Yawkey Woodson Art Museum in Wausau (USA), I discover some artists whose work is comparable to that of Mark Dedrie: Emily Parlman (USA, 1927), Burt Brent (USA, 1938), plastic surgeon whose sculptures bear the imprint of his professional activity, Charles Almond (USA, 1938), Geoffrey Dashwood (UK, 1947) and Ross Matteson (USA, 1957). The latter is closest to Dedrie, but harsher and distant in the representation of birds. In fact, Dedrie's sensuality is closer to that of woodcarvers, such as Hank Tyler (USA 1944) and the Dutchman Jaap Deelder (1952), who polish their sculptures by coating them with oil, thus making the rib visible. wood. Quality artists do not come from the sky. So Dedrie, too, is the product of various impressions, influences and currents. Some of them are hardly detectable any more, while others can only be guessed. Dedrie is certainly influenced by his apprenticeship years, when he was the color of bronze - his basic profession. We are therefore dealing with an autodidact who seeks to transmit his vision and his emotion to the spectator, thanks to his know-how and his perfect knowledge of the technical means available, but also by his empathy with the birds. The Birds The bird is a symbol of freedom, says Mark Dedrie, but paradoxically all form of symbolism gradually disappears from his work. His human figures, symbolic and androgynous, give way to birds and animals that are recognizable, of course, but which require the quest for a deeper meaning. And yet, despite some knowledge of the world of birds, it remains mysterious and elusive to 21st century man, while remaining the messenger of symbolic meaning. Of all the creatures in the animal world, birds are the closest to angels! Mark Dedrie looks at the birds with empathy, even though he transcends that gaze. He observes the living bird as well as the stuffed specimen. He studies their silhouette, their attitudes. He uses photography to try to enter their world and lets himself be lulled by his dreams and phantasies. Even before he begins his work, the different layers of his eyes and his brain filter and interpret all the plastic characteristics specific to the mandarin duck or curlew. He designs the sculptures in wax or plastiline life-size and using his hands and fingers as in an act of love. Each new sculpture proceeds from a painful gestation, as he strives to capture what makes these creatures so inaccessible: their purity and their lightness. He believes that it is by simplifying his subjects that he will best succeed in conveying their state of mind. Because the birds themselves do not collaborate. Of course, each species has a typical silhouette that allows us to recognize the 'owl' or the 'crow'. Yet a bird is much more than that - there is also the personality, the special attitude and the characteristic behavior. In addition, the protruding parts, such as the legs and the beak, pose a problem of transposition, of recreation on the technical and artistic level and even risks breaking the unity of the sculpture. Despite these transpositions, it is easy to identify the curlew, the mandarin, the little owl, the graceful kingfisher. And the swan so fascinating. A striking presence emanates from this swan. The man who decided to acquire the large sculpture 'Crescendo', while Mark and I wandered through the gallery, will not soon tire of admiring this work. This one is a true Dedrie, and yet she is different: exuberant, majestic, a tour de force, created with the aim of impressing. To believe the Icelandic sagas, swans migrated to the moon after brooding; that's exactly what Dedrie managed to capture, the magical, almost lunar quality of the swan. It translates the anatomy of the swan in a personal way, while deviating from the morphological reality of the wings, this perhaps in order to avoid an overly heraldic pose. By suggesting the 'movement' of the wings, it does seem that the sculptor was inspired by photographs of birds in flight, their wings blurred and out of focus. Trying to suggest movement in a bronze often presents a difficult problem to solve. Dedrie approaches it from what we might call a modern angle, using all the means currently at our disposal. The profile of the wings exceeds anatomical accuracy: they seem to swell and capture air as if, at any moment, they could carry the bird through three-dimensional space. One discovers here concordances with the approach of Lhoste, in particular his Pelican in marble of 1966 and his Oiseau in bronze of 1988. Because the human eye does not perfectly capture this movement, the artist can appeal to new sculptural possibilities. In a very simple way, it seems, these two artists give us an impression or, even stronger, an imaginary evocation of these enigmatic creatures, evolving on the periphery of our world, always trying to escape our attention. .