Arts & Book Review
October 12, 2013
First Edition
'I believe in the object. It is through the object that I discover myself'
IN THE STUDIO Daniel Silver Sculptor
by Karen Wright
Daniel Silver works in a "barn in the middle of Hackney". I can see
why he calls it a barn, its lofty wood ceiling resembling an alpine
village cow barn. Ranged around the light space are shelves full of
sculptures, kin to the objects in Dig, Silver's impressive
proto-archaeological installation in Euston, central London.
Silver was born in England in 1972. His parents decided to emigrate to
Israel in 1973, arriving just before the war. His father, a doctor,
was immediately in demand. He claims he has memories of his mother, a
painter herself, and himself in a concrete "adjustment" shelter. His
grandparents remained in England and Silver returned to do his art
studies at the Guild School, the Slade and the Royal College. He
mentions that he studied with Phyllida Barlow and Mike Nelson,
respectively, and I can see their ghostly influences brushing by me in
the studio.
Silver sees himself as a sculptor, saying, "I believe in the autonomy
of the object. It is through the object that 'I discover myself'."
With his analytical style of discourse, it is unsurprising to find
that he discovered this rich bank of images at Freud's house in
Hampstead where Silver managed to convince the then-director to open
the cabinets of curiosity housing part of Freud's collection. He
photographed the images and blew them up to "understand more about
them and the man who collected them."
Silver moved into the space two years ago, sharing the building with
fellow artists Francis Upritchard and Martino Gamper, living nearby in
Dalston with his wife, Tali and young son, Irah. He uses his modest
canopied outdoor space to carve marble that he sources in Italy.
Silver has one assistant, Klaus, an amiable carver from the south
Tyrol who is engaged today with a large marble work that will
eventually be capped with a bronze head loosely based on an Armenian
monk, an image retrieved from Silver's childhood in Israel. When he
was "a five year old, I went with my father, then a young doctor, to
the old city, and we sat and ate pigeons in this huge workers hall
with one of his patients, an Armenian".
Silver found in Oxfam a book of photographs of Jerusalem taken in the
1970s, with an image of an Armenian monk, and they have become layered
in his mind. It is this conglomeration of multiple images that makes
Silver's sculptures mysterious and hard to pin down. Collaged of
materials - marble, clay, rubber and fabric - and ideas of present and
past: "The fact that something comes from 3000 years ago and some from
150 years ago. I see everything now".
Recently, Silver has been working on a project in Jerusalem and
determined to find the place of his encounters with the Armenian and
his father. "I found it, and it's not so big any more - that is
interesting in relation to perception." The archaeology of ideas is
embedded in the work but in the end, "I think it is about telling a
bigger story."
Daniel Silver: Dig, Artangel, London EC1 (www.artangel.org.uk) to 3 November
October 12, 2013
First Edition
'I believe in the object. It is through the object that I discover myself'
IN THE STUDIO Daniel Silver Sculptor
by Karen Wright
Daniel Silver works in a "barn in the middle of Hackney". I can see
why he calls it a barn, its lofty wood ceiling resembling an alpine
village cow barn. Ranged around the light space are shelves full of
sculptures, kin to the objects in Dig, Silver's impressive
proto-archaeological installation in Euston, central London.
Silver was born in England in 1972. His parents decided to emigrate to
Israel in 1973, arriving just before the war. His father, a doctor,
was immediately in demand. He claims he has memories of his mother, a
painter herself, and himself in a concrete "adjustment" shelter. His
grandparents remained in England and Silver returned to do his art
studies at the Guild School, the Slade and the Royal College. He
mentions that he studied with Phyllida Barlow and Mike Nelson,
respectively, and I can see their ghostly influences brushing by me in
the studio.
Silver sees himself as a sculptor, saying, "I believe in the autonomy
of the object. It is through the object that 'I discover myself'."
With his analytical style of discourse, it is unsurprising to find
that he discovered this rich bank of images at Freud's house in
Hampstead where Silver managed to convince the then-director to open
the cabinets of curiosity housing part of Freud's collection. He
photographed the images and blew them up to "understand more about
them and the man who collected them."
Silver moved into the space two years ago, sharing the building with
fellow artists Francis Upritchard and Martino Gamper, living nearby in
Dalston with his wife, Tali and young son, Irah. He uses his modest
canopied outdoor space to carve marble that he sources in Italy.
Silver has one assistant, Klaus, an amiable carver from the south
Tyrol who is engaged today with a large marble work that will
eventually be capped with a bronze head loosely based on an Armenian
monk, an image retrieved from Silver's childhood in Israel. When he
was "a five year old, I went with my father, then a young doctor, to
the old city, and we sat and ate pigeons in this huge workers hall
with one of his patients, an Armenian".
Silver found in Oxfam a book of photographs of Jerusalem taken in the
1970s, with an image of an Armenian monk, and they have become layered
in his mind. It is this conglomeration of multiple images that makes
Silver's sculptures mysterious and hard to pin down. Collaged of
materials - marble, clay, rubber and fabric - and ideas of present and
past: "The fact that something comes from 3000 years ago and some from
150 years ago. I see everything now".
Recently, Silver has been working on a project in Jerusalem and
determined to find the place of his encounters with the Armenian and
his father. "I found it, and it's not so big any more - that is
interesting in relation to perception." The archaeology of ideas is
embedded in the work but in the end, "I think it is about telling a
bigger story."
Daniel Silver: Dig, Artangel, London EC1 (www.artangel.org.uk) to 3 November