Boundless: Hepworth in London

Yesterday’s solar eclipse occurred immediately before a gallery talk discussing Barbara Hepworth’s stringed work. The alignment was entirely appropriate; deeply interested in modernity, the sculptor viewed that otherwise prosaic material as an analogue for many things, including the waves sent around the earth and into space by new technologies. After the war, a conflict won with the aid of those same advancements, London rebuilt using a radical Modernist architecture of steel and glass and Hepworth was an obvious choice to enhance these new buildings with bold artist statements of her own. In each case, her sculptures in metals – whether on the ground or above it – spoke of sun, light and air.

In the early Thirties Hepworth’s travels on the continent with her new partner Ben Nicholson and the artistic avant garde she began to encounter there increased her interest in abstraction. Her discovery of mathematical models from the previous century that employed string to describe complex shapes launched a specific thread in her work, initially explored through curving, geometric drawings and paintings and then with compositions in plaster and string. Though originally describing empty space, Hepworth soon saw wider resonance between string and other aspects of her life such as the weather, music and the sea. When more robust materials became available in peacetime, the contrast between the Cornish fishing twine she preferred and the shapes she forged from steel and gold brought its own power, and at a range of scales. The string now reflected tensions within and without her pieces, the connections between herself as artist and the surrounding landscape and much more.

All of these influences are seen in her responses to three commissions received in the Fifties and Sixties for three new buildings in the recovering capital, all located within a mile of each other and all using sculpture to enhance their architecture.

“The flight of birds” – Orpheus at Mullard House, Fitzrovia

Mullard Limited had been founded in the Twenties and was a major British electronics firm, albeit wholly owned by Dutch giant Philips. With manufacturing bases around the country, the foundation stone of a new headquarters was laid in 1955 in partnership with developer Capital & Counties Property Co Ltd. Architects Robert Sharp & Son’s design for 1-19 Torrington Place

featured a contextual block along Tottenham Court Road, mid-rise in keeping with the existing building line and faced in brick, but a tall tower behind that was clad in Portland stone with extensive glazing indicating the staircase. The two elements formed a letter T in plan and were entered from a light and airy two-storey pavilion on Torrington Place.

The following year Hepworth created Theme on Electronics (Orpheus) for the reception area of Mullard House, using her double title system of conceptual descriptor followed by everyday name to reference both the client’s ethereal activities and the mythical Greek musician; the elegant design of curved metal plates and crossed strings alludes to his harp, with which he charmed people and animals alike. Indeed in developing the piece Hepworth explained the freedom of this new field seemed nearer to the flight of birds than to “gravity-bound rocks and humans”.  It was mounted on a revolving turntable, bringing movement but surely also echoing the rotation of radar dishes (Mullard was involved in radio astronomy) and anticipating Hepworth’s visit to Goonhilly satellite station a decade later. Other versions, including editions, of Orpheus followed; Mullard moved into semiconductors and teletext circuits before the brand name faded, though the building remains as part of UCL.

“The arc of the sun” – Meridian at State House, Holborn

State House was developed by the United Real Property Trust between 1956 and 1960 on the north side of High Holborn. Many period properties were cleared to make way for Trehearne and Norman, Preston and Partners’ ambitious H-shaped block in Portland stone and glass with selected elevations highlighted by projecting vertical ribs carried over the roofs. Its central section rose sixteen stories above its neighbours but the entire building was set back from the street line behind a landscaped piazza, and featured raised lower wings and permeable undercrofts to further increase the feeling of openness. State House, which Pevsner described as far from run-of-the-mill, was largely let to the government’s Department of Science and associated bodies.

Hepworth was asked to create something for the forecourt, and was quoted at the time as saying “With this commission I felt no hesitation whatsoever. By next morning I saw the sculpture in my mind quite clearly. I made my first maquette, and from this, began the armature for the working model. The architect must create a valid space for sculpture so that it becomes organically part of our spiritual perception as well as our three dimensional life.” Composed of concentric rings like a kaleidoscope, Meridian eventually stood 15 feet high – the wall behind had to be modified to accommodate it. Explaining her choice of title to the architect, she said “it refers either to an imaginary arc of longitude (quintessentially, the Greenwich Meridian) or to the highest point in the arc of the sun”.

Impressively Meridian was unveiled by Sir Philip Hendy, the then Director of the National Gallery, and Hepworth was photographed with it to emphasise the importance of the project. State House was demolished in the late Nineties for a new development.

“Airborne in rain and sunlight” – Winged Figure at John Lewis, Oxford Street

John Lewis had begun to rebuild its flagship Victorian store just before the war, starting with the rear block facing Cavendish Square which was executed in a restrained Moderne style. When building licenses became available again in 1954, a change of architect to Slater & Uren brought a very different look to the façades put up in stages between then and 1960. Playing with division and recession, deep reveals sculpted the exterior whilst a subtle use of colour and materials added detail.

A large-format contemporary sculpture for the building, one that would immediately identify the retailer with the new London and bring art to its customers and passers-by alike, was always part of the plan even if the path by which Hepworth came to be chosen is complex and involves her challenging the brief. She though was clear as to her intentions: “I think one of our universal dreams is to move in air and water without the resistance of our human legs. I wanted to evoke this sense of freedom. If [my work] in Oxford Street gives people a sense of being airborne in rain and sunlight and nightlight I will be very happy.” Titled Winged Figure, the piece was developed from a pre-existing piece through a series of ever-larger maquettes, culminating in a full-size prototype nearly 20 feet high. The actual work was cast in aluminium, with stainless steel rods used in place of string for durability, and installed – again, amidst significant media coverage – part-way up the eastern elevation of the building on a small plinth, itself an abstract composition, in 1963; of this placement, Hepworth said “It is a project I have long wished to fulfil and this site with its wonderful oblique wall was quite perfect.”

Alone amongst these three buildings, John Lewis survives and so does its Hepworth sculpture. Perched above the bustle of the West End, sometimes guardian angel, sometimes dark spectre, it is a reminder of a period of deep trauma followed by one of boundless optimism, and one artist’s powerful thoughts on both.

Barbara Hepworth: Strings runs until 2 May at Piano Nobile, 96/129 Portland Road, London W11