Lot Essay
Originally intended as a public commission for the Jean Bouin Stadium, Richier's Le Coureur presents us with an interesting point of departure from the work of her early mentor Émile-Antoine Bourdelle. Whereas his depictions of athleticism (most famously in Heraklies Archer, 1909) concentrate on the physical power and staged theatricality of the pose, Richier manages to convey a sense of disquiet and anxiety which goes beyond any traditional depiction of sporting activity.
Richier's decision to use Lyrot, a particularly slender professional model (who also acted as model for Richier's Griffu from 1952), underlines the artist's intention to question the prevailing image of a heroic sporting figure who is in control of his destiny. Instead the work draws parallels between the solitary urgency of the long-distance runner and the solitude of man's existence.
Richier shared with artists such as Jean Dubuffet, Jean Fautrier and Alberto Giacometti a concern for seeking more authentic experiences than those provided in the prevailing culture. An expressive emphasis on gesture and the material aspect of the work characterises the artists' attempt to come to terms with the trauma brought upon by the Second World War.
Simone de Beauvoir eloquently summed up the predominant feeling when she commented: "The war was over, it remained on our hands like a great, unwanted corpse, and there was no place on earth to bury it."
Indeed, there is something almost morbid about the emaciated figure of Le Coureur, though its determined and unwavering steps lead us to believe that this particular runner is moving towards a more positive and restorative future. In a letter to her first husband, the sculptor Otto Bänninger, dated around the period of Le Coureur's conception, she states: "I think we are slowly re-entering the decade of the beautiful. I am speaking primarily of myself, as some sculptors never have abandoned it (the beautiful). At a gathering at Royaumont, a meeting of intellectuals and artists, beauty was insistently discussed. Brutally I was asked by Francis Ponge what I thought of beauty, and, instinctively, I responded that this was now a question that was weighing on my mind. As a matter of fact, that same evening, upon entering my studio in the early hours of the morning, I saw the plaster model of nothing more than faith, and that morning I felt a page turning; but what was already there had to be done". (In: Germaine Richier, Galerie Creuzevault, Paris 1966, unpaginated).
This sense of hope and redemption is also present in Le Coureur. The surface of the sculpture is roughly pitted and uneven; external space is not repelled by a smooth, armoured exterior, but allowed to penetrate and interplay, giving a sense of vulnerability to the figure of Le Coureur. Particularly on the face of the figure, where layers seem to be peeling off, like the old bark of a tree, to reveal a glimpse of a fresher, more optimistic face of the future.
Richier's decision to use Lyrot, a particularly slender professional model (who also acted as model for Richier's Griffu from 1952), underlines the artist's intention to question the prevailing image of a heroic sporting figure who is in control of his destiny. Instead the work draws parallels between the solitary urgency of the long-distance runner and the solitude of man's existence.
Richier shared with artists such as Jean Dubuffet, Jean Fautrier and Alberto Giacometti a concern for seeking more authentic experiences than those provided in the prevailing culture. An expressive emphasis on gesture and the material aspect of the work characterises the artists' attempt to come to terms with the trauma brought upon by the Second World War.
Simone de Beauvoir eloquently summed up the predominant feeling when she commented: "The war was over, it remained on our hands like a great, unwanted corpse, and there was no place on earth to bury it."
Indeed, there is something almost morbid about the emaciated figure of Le Coureur, though its determined and unwavering steps lead us to believe that this particular runner is moving towards a more positive and restorative future. In a letter to her first husband, the sculptor Otto Bänninger, dated around the period of Le Coureur's conception, she states: "I think we are slowly re-entering the decade of the beautiful. I am speaking primarily of myself, as some sculptors never have abandoned it (the beautiful). At a gathering at Royaumont, a meeting of intellectuals and artists, beauty was insistently discussed. Brutally I was asked by Francis Ponge what I thought of beauty, and, instinctively, I responded that this was now a question that was weighing on my mind. As a matter of fact, that same evening, upon entering my studio in the early hours of the morning, I saw the plaster model of nothing more than faith, and that morning I felt a page turning; but what was already there had to be done". (In: Germaine Richier, Galerie Creuzevault, Paris 1966, unpaginated).
This sense of hope and redemption is also present in Le Coureur. The surface of the sculpture is roughly pitted and uneven; external space is not repelled by a smooth, armoured exterior, but allowed to penetrate and interplay, giving a sense of vulnerability to the figure of Le Coureur. Particularly on the face of the figure, where layers seem to be peeling off, like the old bark of a tree, to reveal a glimpse of a fresher, more optimistic face of the future.