Below the thunders of the upper deep;
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His antient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides: above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumber'd and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages and will lie
Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
Lord Alfred Tennyson
The Kraken Wakes is part of my continuing investigation of ideas on perception, of things that engage the forces of nature, of things that change and grow. The creatures inhabiting the seas are the inspiration for this dynamic abstract exploration of nature and the laws of physics and biology: of resistance to the crushing weight of the deep ocean, of the lightness of a soaring rise through the open sea, of arrival at the inhospitable surface.
Inspired by observation of the natural world, this work embodies complexity, movement and a sense of motion frozen in a moment of time. Kraken pursues that moment between balance and flight where the precise distribution of mass, form and space activate the sculpture: a creative engineering that aims to imbue a potency of lightness, of energy and action.
The title of this work is taken from John Wyndham's book about the invasion of dry land by creatures from the abyssal deep – but the work itself is pure Tennyson: an ancient abyssal ('abysmal') creature, sleeping for millennia amongst sponges and enormous polyps, its giant arms feeding on huge sandworms, now risen to the surface to be seen by Man and the angels, to die. |