Figures are appearing across the rooftops of central London.
They stand proud, but inert. Guardian angels, or sinister aliens?
The epicentre is the Heywood Gallery.
These are the Gormleys.
I confidently predict that they will become the craze of this early summer. Virtual Gormleys will spring up all over the internet, as people try to record the location of each Gormley, and to photograph each Gormley from each possible angle. Accidents will happen because Londoners are wandering around, dazed, their eyes fixed on the skyline.
On one level, the installation by Antony Gormley of tens, if not hundreds, of statues of himself naked is a grotesque act of egotism, the apotheosis of our “look at me” culture.
Someone has already tried to steel the Gormley on Waterloo Bridge.
We will all fall under the spell of the Gormleys. Gormley has the knack of producing bold, simple art which somehow captures the imagination of the great British public. They say the Angel of the North is Britain’s best loved piece of public art.
The Gormleys make the living statues of Gilbert and George seem dead. The Gormleys make you rediscover things you’ve stopped seeing – architecture, the skyline, the colours of the sky, the play of shadows on a wall.
They are our defense against the coming Terracotta Army
We will all learn to love the Gormleys.
The Gormleys are coming.
there are more gormleys over at my sister site, grebson:digitalis
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