Modern art may not regard the realistic representation of the world around us as a priority, but the imitative power of art still exerts a powerful hold on the imagination. Mind you, Plato would have none of it, and was all for excluding artists from his ideal society. Representation was a lie, a pathetic imitation of reality, good only for fooling children and simpletons.
But what would he have made of Popliteo, the sculptural partnership of Luis Montoya and Leslie Ortiz, at the Solomon Gallery? Between them they make meticulously realistic patinated bronze sculptures of fruit and vegetables, convincingly lifelike right down to the highlight on the cherry, the withered leaf on the apple stalk. But because they are much larger than life-size, you know that (genetic modification apart) they cannot be the real thing. Plato might grumble a bit, but he'd have to admit that they're not trying to pull the wool over anybody's eyes.
In a way Popliteo's outsize fruit links two trains of artistic thought. One is the American penchant for making ultra-realistic sculpture, now in vogue on this side of the Atlantic as well. In fact, Montoya ran a foundry and used to cast bronzes for the late Duane Hanson, one of the foremost hyperrealist sculptors. The other is the Pop Art device of monumentalising everyday things, typified in Claes Oldenberg's vast hot-dogs and ashtrays.
Popliteo's work is technically brilliant. Immense skill goes into the simulation of minute subtleties of texture, the recreation of delicate flushes of colour by patination. The collaboration began some time after Ortiz went to work for Montoya at his West Palm Beach foundry in 1984. Of Mexican descent, she was making work inspired by the art of Mayan temples. Montoya, whose first teacher was his grandfather, a Spanish sculptor, was making more expressionist sculptures.
Then, at the beginning of the decade, they began their collaboration, which extends to every aspect of the long, arduous process, though unofficially it's said that he's particularly involved in casting, she in finishing and patination.
The end results are halfway between fine art sculpture and decorative art, and they can at times teeter on the edge of vulgarity. The sheer implausibility of the objects brings a smile to your face. Apples played a less than auspicious role in the Garden of Eden. While Picasso was by no means the first artist to realise the potential for erotic symbolism in innocuous-seeming still life, he was a genius at it. And Ortiz and Montoya are certainly aware of the erotic connotations of the lush, sensual forms and textures of their subjects, relishing every ripe bulge, curve and crease.
What of the duo's name? Is it a technical sculptural term, or something to do with the subject matter? Neither, it seems. It's a derivation of the Latin, popliteus, an anatomical term for the muscle behind the knee joint. They just liked the sound of it.
Popliteo's sculptures can be seen at the Solomon Gallery until August 3rd.
