Sam Sherborne - Sculpture Narratives
All images credit: Sam Walker
Staying Alive
The title, 'Staying Alive', a semi-humorous title, attempts to bring some levity or gallows humour to a dire situation. The main figure is me after I woke in extreme agony from surgery to remove my prostate, when I was so ill I felt I was dying. I was tempted to call the sculpture 'Agony, nausea and delirium in South Yorkshire’. The best way I can describe the pain and fear is to draw on past experiences. So, it combines four of these. Firstly, being stamped in a sensitive place whilst playing rugby (except in this case the pain doesn't fade over a few minutes but goes on for days). Secondly, the pain of running a fell race, perhaps up Win Hill in the Peak district, except in this case there is no throwing-in-the-towel option. Thirdly, having sunstroke the first year I was strong enough to lift a bale of hay above my head and worked all day without a hat, enjoying my new 'useful' status. Finally, the terrifying experience of being mugged at knife point in London. To cap it all off, people who have this operation are normally not in pain, and the nurses intimated that they thought I was pretending, to get access to opiates. This situation was resolved after a few days by the consultant surgeon coming in on his day off, motivated by my statistics pointing towards an early exit, and putting in place the necessary initiatives. These are represented by the figures with ropes, a saw and scissors.
Living The Dream, 2022
This sculpture is about how the dream we aspire to might not be as idyllic as we imagine. The actual dream might not be what we think we want; it could be something opposite
Goes Forth, 2017
This sculpture was made to mark the moment I felt less of an individual interacting with the world and more part of a family unit, interlocked and setting out intrepidly.
Phonehead, 2018
I sometimes refer to this sculpture as 'Phonehead', though the official title is 'Cognisant or vegetative', a term borrowed from Siegfried Sassoon. By using our mobile phones, our humanity can be compromised and we become not-present and less physically linked. We allow ourselves to be a conduit for the information presented to us. I have noticed parents at a playground in my local park staring at their phones and taking little or no notice of each other or their children. The pursuit of dopamine allows us to be exposed to and manipulated by advertisers and politically biased news at the expense of important social interaction time. The internet in general can be seen, as Marx once described religion, as the opium of the people. It distracts those exposed to it from the hardships of the world and makes them less likely to mobilise and initiate change. They remain permanently mesmerised, distracted and inert.
Ritual depletion, 2019
This sculpture is concerned with the impoverished nature of modern-day rituals, which are limited to things like weekly shops, putting the bins out and feeding the fish. In the past, people were in touch with community-based rituals and festivals marking the seasons and life-transitions.
Debate on Ward F, 2022
This sculpture relates to a moment in time when I am lying in a hospital bed behind a curtain, fresh from the operating theatre shortly after cancer surgery and in huge pain. I can hear three nurses on the other side of the curtain debating whether I am actually in great pain or just pretending, so as to gain access to opiates.
Hot water, 2017
This is a trauma memory I processed through the artwork. My siblings and I were smacked for playing boisterously in the bath. This is my earliest memory of a negative experience and of injustice. The scene is remembered with photographic detail and then transposed into metalwork.
Beacon of Dad, 2018
My father has been dead 33 years. This portrait sculpture is normally placed close to my father's actual chair in my kitchen. It shines out constant 'Dadness’.
Carried to safety by Rhiannon, 2022
The skill and kindness of a particular nurse, Rhiannon, help me recover from a post operative infection. She is shown with an unnatural, exaggerated appearance reflecting my vision of her in my high fever. I come back to fight another day!
Earthly delights, 2024
The title is borrowed from Hieronymus Bosch and is processing my feeling about 'climate doom'.
Sulky arrogant saves my life, 2022
The subject of the sculpture is a Robot Assisted Radical Prostatectomy, a potentially life-saving operation for prostate cancer, but also one that can be massively traumatic to the body and mind. The surgeon is shown in an advanced Tai Chi pose to reflect his skill and dynamism. The patient is shown in an exaggerated ‘Trendelenburg’ upside-down position on the operating table. The crown and ornamentation reflect his honour in having access to state-of-the-art machinery and the surgeon’s focussed attention. The robot can be seen proudly holding the prostate, complete with brass urethra. The sculpture’s base reflects the brutality of the procedure, with the steel cut into and peeled back. The experience is of being a product of robotic mass production or a digital artefact, with very little human contact, a soulless experience, and with no answers to hand when it doesn't go to plan.
The glimpse, 2023
The sculpture tells the story of a glimpse of the numinous or a pleasure sensation induced by exercise, cold water, nature and history. It shows these experiences:
- Sunrise at Embleton Bay: footprints in the sand at the sea edge; the choppy water is shown by polished very old rusty iron
- I run along the sea edge
- I run alongside a curlew which sings loudly its mysterious call
- I run as far as the castle
- I swim in the very cold North Sea
- I lie in the surf
Wife and welder, 2019
My wife and I were diagnosed with cancer a few years ago within 15 months of each other. Being in it together, taking it in turns to be the carer, and being mutually supportive have turned things round.
Under the influence, 2018
This sculpture is about escaping the influence of an over-controlling mother.
Linkage, 2018
The inspiration dates back to when my wife and I ventured into parenthood - it is our walks in the park. Initially we got a dog as a kind of dry run and, when that seemed to work pretty well, two children followed. A walk in the park was a real treat then, a chance for everyone to get out of a cramped flat and enjoy the sunshine and be sociable. It was also achievable, unlike many of our pre-parenthood activities. For us as new parents it was a lifeline - all members of the household could have their needs met. Advice on parenting and dog-handling could be gathered, the babies would finally get off to sleep, and the dog could let off steam. Of course, not everything would necessarily go perfectly to plan!
Talking frame, 2018
This sculpture captures the healing process of the 'talking cure'. The benefits/challenges of psychotherapy, a lived experience, are solidified in a mnemonic icon, arranging therapy’s interlocking ingredients in a grid. The healing process is not a magical moment but a protracted one, characterised by bravery, risk-taking and shame. It promises more liberated, outward energy for creativity.