MIKE: The fragility of the constructions in Delineate is almost beyond belief.
After his tenure of the Tylee Cottage residency in 2017, Peter Trevelyan has returned to the Sarjeant Gallery with an extensive exhibition of sculptures, ranging in size from the minuscule to the mighty. In his public discussion with Greg Donson, on Saturday morning, he revealed that, as a child, he had loved model making, using balsa wood, tissue paper, harakeke, etc. Later he proceeded to drawing, especially birds, and from here art school seemed a natural step.
His early penchant for precision, sketching countless delicate lines, changed to sculpture, after he was gifted a large amount of graphite pencil leads from a defunct engineering office. What had been work in 2D, "linear perspective", was not reality, so 3D forms became his raison d'etre, using these leads, a meagre 0.5mm in diameter, plus adhesives. Working from The Art of Science, a book containing many examples of line drawings, he "unpacked" these 2D exemplars into 3D images.
Peter explained to his audience how he developed the pyramid ("actually a tetrahedron") near the gallery entrance, by cutting up the leads into a large number of similar length, before assembling them into the required form.
When asked if he worked from drawings, he stated that there was no pre-drawing or formula to be followed. He simply started, added bits where needed and the construction was virtually self-propagating. It seemed obvious to me that the quality most required for such work would be patience. This notion was soon floored, as he claimed that he was not an especially patient person.
Several different aspects of his work are on view, since this exhibition is a selection of his sculptures over the past 10 years. Archives 1 I found extremely attractive. From long-sight of a few metres the objects seemed to be black at their centre, but, as one approached, it was the close positioning of the leads which caused this "fuzziness". These were termed "organic" sculptures, as they did not follow any rules, but grew from the core outwards. In addition, they required more application, as each individual lead had to be cut to an exact length, unlike the "regular" works. These "organically formed" constructions were most demanding on the accuracy and precision of his assembly with tweezers. Larger works also needed longer lead lengths, often of 60mm, but occasionally up to 120mm. Naturally, the longer the lead, the greater the likelihood of collapse under strain.
Among all the fascinating variations on display, I found that Book Works particularly appealed. The artist decided that old books could be hollowed out and a miniature sculpture placed inside, on the lines of spy films, where an innocuous book cover would be opened, revealing a gun neatly slotted inside. Taking a book titled Confusion, he placed it, having hidden a small sculpture inside, on a shelf in the semiotics section of the library at Victoria University, where it stayed for four months! Did anyone open it? Was it ever taken out of the library for a page-turning thriller? Does anyone use that recondite (there you go !) area of the library? Well, apart from being staggered by the skill of these sculptures, I've also added a new word to my vocabulary. "Semiotics" — the study of signs and symbols and their use or interpretation.