On statues and sculptures

On statues and sculptures

Sculptures have always intrigued me – or rather, the artistry that surrounds making sculptures. How a sculptor can start out with a block of marble, or a slab of wood, or whichever medium they choose and then start chipping away until a form reveals itself, is a wonderful mystery to me. I am not even remotely capable of such mysteries, but I am very much capable of admiring them.

I have often wondered about the distinction between statues, sculptures, monuments and the like. On recent travels in Europe I saw endless amounts of all kinds (although I still cannot distinguish between them) – some fairly traditional and expected, and others, well, not so much. Aside from the famous sculptures in museums and cathedrals, and statues on plains and squares, I found fascinating adornments on buildings and street corners of which the story and origins I could only imagine. And the imaginative tales I spun often ended up being far more … unique … than the sculptures themselves. I have to admit, if I were an artist and my work could inspire such leaps of imagination, I would not care too much about the true meaning or symbolism behind the work.

Dragon statue in Barcelona, Spain.

A statue (or sculpture, or monument, or adornment?) in Nice, France.

Sculptures (I am fairly certain that’s what these are) displayed in Leuven, Belgium.

A statue of Mozart in Salzburg, Austria.

A statue of Mozart in Salzburg, Austria.

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