1990
February 1990. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 69 × 44 × 39 in (175 × 112 × 99 cm).
Private collection.
February 1990. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 86 × 30 × 36 in (218 × 76 × 91 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
March 1990. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 21 × 35 × 13 in (53 × 89 × 33 cm).
Over the years I have created many sculptures that feature openings or portals suggesting entrance or passages into spaces and places, both real and figurative. In Portal (ad augusta per ad augusta)” 1990, a small, narrow “portal” or archway is created by an arc of steel bookended by two pieces of found granite.
Occasionally I use Latin (the one foreign language I briefly studied) in my titles as a way to “bridge” the romance languages and expand the work’s communicative power. The sub title literally translates “to honors through difficulties” (augusta refers to holy places, angusta to narrow places) all suggesting that to achieve great results, we must pay the price, a maxim that was very much a part of my upbringing and perhaps a fit motto for dieters.
August 1990. Green marble, steel. Dimensions: 107 × 131 × 72 in (272 × 333 × 183 cm).
Private Collection
August 1990. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 52 × 91 × 41 in (132 × 231 × 104 cm).
Private collection - San Francisco
Pique à terre is a term from classical French ballet for a pose with one toe touching the ground, the other foot firmly planted, and a sweeping arm gesture. Once you are aware of the title, when you see the piece the connection is clear. I am in a sense choreographing these works, getting a heavy weight off the ground and making it dance—taking what is often seen as a negative, the fact that stone is damn heavy and a big hassle to move around, and turning it into a positive. It is this transition that helps give theses pieces their magic.
October 1990. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 65 × 56 × 29 in (165 × 142 × 74 cm).
Private collection - New York
Charting the Course (1990), in bronze and granite, encapsulates John Van Alstine’s exploration of navigation as a metaphor for human agency and the necessity of choosing one’s path in life. Anchored by a grounded granite base and animated by outward-reaching bronze elements, the sculpture suggests a moment of poised decision—where direction is not predetermined but actively set. Reflecting his broader use of tools and structural tension, Van Alstine evokes navigation as an engaged, responsible act requiring balance, adjustment, and intention. Like related works such as the Tiller series and Charting the Course II, the piece embodies his belief that life is a continual process of orientation and movement, shaped by the risks we accept and the courses we choose to follow.
October 1990. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 21 × 28 × 12 in (53 × 71 × 30 cm).
Fenestra (Latin for "window") refers to a small opening, pore, or perforation, primarily used in biology to describe openings in bones (e.g., ear fenestrae) or cells. It also refers to a window-like architectural opening, transparent spots on insect wings, or specialized medical imaging tools.
October 1990. Slate, bronze. Dimensions: 23 × 50 × 26 in (58 × 127 × 66 cm). Private Collection
Corvus (ˈkȯr-vəs) — A small constellation adjoining Virgo to the south. The name derives from the Latin corvus, meaning “raven.”
October 1990. Slate, bronze. Dimensions: 36 × 39 × 19 in (91 × 99 × 48 cm).
Private collection - Aspen, CO
October 1990. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 42 × 41 × 18 in (107 × 104 × 46 cm).
An adze (/ædz/) or adz is an ancient and versatile cutting tool similar to an axe but with the cutting edge perpendicular to the handle rather than parallel.
November 1990. Slate, bronze. Dimensions: 46 × 56 × 26 in (117 × 142 × 66 cm).
Fornix is a Latin noun (masculine, third declension) meaning "arch," "vault," or "vaulted chamber".
November 1990. Green granite, bronze. Dimensions: 117 × 60 × 46 in (297 × 152 × 117 cm).
Private collection - Santa Fe
November 1990. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 24 × 25 × 12 in (61 × 64 × 30 cm).
Private Collection
December 1990. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 28 × 48 × 16 in (71 × 122 × 41 cm).
Pes is the Latin word for "foot,". Anatomy: Defines the foot or footlike structure of humans and four-legged animals.
1989
January 1989. Black granite, bronze. Dimensions: 9 × 26 × 17 in (23 × 66 × 43 cm).
Collection of the artist.
Employing the universal metaphor of the vessel or boat—associated with passage and as a container of the “self”—Eden (1989) makes both a personal and universal statement. The title shares the name of my daughter, born on the last day of 1988, while also evoking the biblical Eden and its associations with purity and the “garden of paradise.”
Looking down at my newborn child, I saw an open vessel. Like the open cast-bronze form of the sculpture, she suggested a shell or container—unfilled and untainted. I associated this open, placid form with our newborn: pure, receptive, and poised to stake out her own destiny, yet to be filled with society’s contaminations, impurities, burdens, rules, and expectations.
January 1989. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 6 × 15 × 16 in (15 × 38 × 41 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Pyxis (/'p?ks?s/; Greek: box) is a small and faint constellation in the southern sky. Abbreviated from Pyxis Nautica, its name is Latin for a mariner's compass
January 1989. Red stone, bronze. Dimensions: 3 × 10 × 6 in (8 × 25 × 15 cm). Private Collection.
Private collection - Washington, DC
Pyxis (/'p?ks?s/; Greek: box) is a small and faint constellation in the southern sky. Abbreviated from Pyxis Nautica, its name is Latin for a mariner's compass
January 1989. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 36 × 17 × 19 in (91 × 43 × 48 cm). Private Collection
January 1989. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 40 × 20 × 12 in (102 × 51 × 30 cm). Private Collection
January 1989. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 84 × 22 × 26 in (213 × 56 × 66 cm). Private Collection Aspen, CO
February 1989. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 78 × 22 × 10 in (198 × 56 × 25 cm).
Corporate collection - Health South Inc., Burmingham, AL
February 1989. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 78 × 29 × 38 in (198 × 74 × 97 cm).
Collection - the Hyde Collection, Glens Falls, New York
“Many of my works incorporate anvils, either real or cast. Anvils have the shape suggestive of a boat or vessel which implies journey which interests me. But further, as a metal worker, the anvil is the place where I physically and conceptually forge things together, there is an art spirit that comes off the anvil. It‘s almost like an altar. I've titled many of these pieces Ara, which is Latin for altar. Also, to me the anvil is the quintessential heavy object, and to get it up in the air creates a wonderful sense of tension.”
John Van Alstine
from, Bones of the Earth: Spirit of the Land
Grayson Press, 1999
April 1989. Granite, steel, found object. Dimensions: 103 × 29 × 22 in (262 × 74 × 56 cm).
Kouros statues are iconic Archaic Greek sculptures (c. 615–460 BC) representing nude male youths, serving as votive offerings to gods or grave markers for elite individuals. Influenced by Egyptian art, they feature a rigid, frontal pose with one foot forward and stylized hair. These figures symbolize idealized youth, strength, and aristocratic honor rather than realistic portraits.
April 1989. Wood, bronze. Dimensions: 85 × 12 × 8 in (216 × 30 × 20 cm).
Collection: Ringling Museum of Art, Sarasota, FL
August 1989. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 82 × 32 × 19 in (208 × 81 × 48 cm).
Carina - A constellation: the Keel.
October 1989. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 48 × 48 × 18 in (122 × 122 × 46 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
1989-91. Aluminum, granite, stainless steel. Dimensions: 12 × 30 × 45 in (30 × 76 × 114 cm).
Commissioned by the Super Computer Research Center and installed in Bowie, MD just outside of Washington, DC. The work is a sundial and solstice calendar with the unique feature of a correction analemma which compensates for the difference between local solar time and Eastern Standard Time. Located at the entrance of the building, the hour dial and calendar features can be seen and enjoyed from many locations inside the building.
In SCR Sunwork John Van Alstine expanded the concepts first explored in Solstice Calendar at Austin College. Designed for one of the nation's leading scientific research institutions, the sculpture functions simultaneously as monumental public art and a celestial instrument. Through the movement of sunlight and shadow, it records the changing seasons, inviting viewers to experience the ancient rhythms of the sun within the context of a cutting-edge center devoted to scientific discovery.
The commission reflects Van Alstine's enduring belief that art and science share a common pursuit—the search for meaning through observation, curiosity, and discovery. Inspired by prehistoric observatories such as Stonehenge and the ceremonial architecture of Mesoamerica, SCR Sunwork transforms a contemporary research campus into a place of reflection, reminding us that long before computers and satellites, humanity looked to the sky to measure time and understand its place in the universe. The project further established Van Alstine's Celestial Works series, leading to later commissions including Artery Sunwork, 2nd Street Sunwork, and Via Solaris.
MORE INFO: SCR Sunwork chapter in AMERICAN MONUMENTS
December 1989. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 51 × 63 × 40 in (130 × 160 × 102 cm).
Corporate collection - Washington, DC
Pique à terre is a term from classical French ballet for a pose with one toe touching the ground, the other foot firmly planted, and a sweeping arm gesture. Once you are aware of the title, when you see the piece the connection is clear. I am in a sense choreographing these works, getting a heavy weight off the ground and making it dance—taking what is often seen as a negative, the fact that stone is damn heavy and a big hassle to move around, and turning it into a positive. It is this transition that helps give theses pieces their magic.
December 1989. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 32 × 44 × 24 in (81 × 112 × 61 cm).
Urceus (plural: urcei) is a Latin term for an ancient Roman one-handled jug or pitcher.
December 1989. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 81 × 98 × 60 in (206 × 249 × 152 cm).
The title Odalisque refers to a long tradition in Western art in which the reclining female figure has served as a vehicle for exploring beauty, proportion, and the expressive possibilities of the human form. From Titian and Ingres to Matisse, Picasso, and Henry Moore, artists have continually reinterpreted this enduring subject, each bringing a new perspective to the relationship between figure and abstraction.
For many years, the landscape was my primary source of inspiration. Gradually I came to see the human figure as another kind of landscape—one shaped by gravity, balance, movement, and gesture. Rather than creating a literal representation, Odalisque I suggests the body through the abstract dialogue of granite and steel. Existing somewhere between recognition and ambiguity, the sculpture invites viewers to complete the image through their own imagination. It marked the beginning of an exploration that continues throughout my work, where the figure emerges not through anatomy, but through balance, rhythm, and the expressive relationship between natural and fabricated materials.
— John Van Alstine
December 1989. Bronze. Dimensions: 16 × 8 × 8 in (41 × 20 × 20 cm).
Private collection - New York State
December 1989. Bronze. Dimensions: 18 × 10 × 18 in (46 × 25 × 46 cm). Private collection - CA
Pyxis - small and faint constellation in the southern sky. Latin for a mariner's compass. Pyxis is completely visible in latitudes south of 53 degrees north from January through March.
Awry (1): in a turned or twisted position or direction: askew; (2): off the correct or expected course: amiss
The works in this series feature a “vessel” form - historically understood in art and literature as a symbol or metaphor for the self, a group of people, human kind. If the vessel’s compass is awry it will likely end up adrift, untethered, off course.
My intent is raise questions as to personal (or a group) decisions/courses of action and shed light on the resulting consequences, whether they are personal, political, environmental.
1988
January 1988. Pink granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 70 × 54 × 36 in (178 × 137 × 91 cm).
Private collection - Los Angles, CA
Over the years, I have created many sculptures featuring openings or portals, suggesting entrances, thresholds, and passages into spaces and places, both real and figurative. Often, a vessel form—a metaphor for the individual and a carrier of our experiences, memories, and aspirations—moves toward or through a portal or gateway.
This passage suggests a moment of personal transition or breakthrough: moving beyond obstacles and from the known toward the unknown. The portal becomes both a barrier and an opening, while the vessel embodies the energy and determination required to pass through it toward discovery, transformation, and new possibilities.
February 1988. painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 98 × 41 × 30 in (249 × 104 × 76 cm).
On the Edge I (Artist Passage) marks an early development of the vessel and passage imagery that would become increasingly important in my work. A large, rough-edged stone rises vertically from a steel base set on rollers, while a fabricated steel vessel at its top appears to lunge forward with animated, almost gestural energy. The juxtaposition of the massive, earthbound stone, the suggestion of mobility below, and the vessel poised precariously above creates a sense of movement, instability, and transition—a journey caught in progress.
The title turns the idea of passage toward the artist’s own journey—the continual movement through ideas, materials, discoveries, and uncertainties that accompanies a creative life. My use of the vessel grew partly from my early experience as a potter and from its longstanding role as a metaphor for the self and for passage from one state or place to another. Here, the vessel becomes both cargo and traveler, suggesting the artist carrying the accumulated weight of experience while moving forward into unknown territory—on the edge between what has been established and what is yet to be discovered. These ideas would later expand into the Portals and Passages works and other sculptures centered on journey, transition, and transformation.
February 1988. polychromed granite and steel, 85 × 22 × 27 in (216 × 56 × 69 cm). Private collection.
On the Edge II (Artist’s Passage) follows On the Edge I and continues my exploration of the vessel as a metaphor for passage—a form historically understood in art and literature as a carrier or container for the self, a group, or even humankind. Here, a fabricated steel vessel appears to cascade precariously from the top of a tall, thin wedge of stone, itself balanced on a solid steel, ringed, planet-like “wrecking ball.” The deliberately unstable arrangement creates a sense of movement, risk, and imminent passage, as though the entire sculpture has been caught at the critical instant between balance and collapse.
The work is also autobiographical, reflecting what I thought of at the time as the “artist’s plight.” I had recently stepped away from the security of a university professorship and felt myself teetering on a professional and financial precipice. The precarious vessel therefore became a metaphor for my own passage into an uncertain future, while also addressing the broader experience of the artist—continually taking risks, making choices, and moving forward without knowing exactly where they will lead. The sculpture extends the ideas introduced in On the Edge I and anticipates my later Portals and Passages works, in which the vessel increasingly embodies the energy and determination required to move from the known toward the unknown.
February 1988. Pink granite, painted steel.
Private collection - Baltimore, MD
Left to right : Vessel II 72"h - Vessel IV 70"h - Vessel VI 72"h
April 1988. Pink granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 86 × 12 × 12 in (218 × 30 × 30 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
September 1988. Granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 103 × 24 × 15 in (262 × 61 × 38 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Over the years, I have created many sculptures featuring openings or portals, suggesting entrances, thresholds, and passages into spaces and places, both real and figurative. Often, a vessel form—a metaphor for the individual and a carrier of our experiences, memories, and aspirations—moves toward or through a portal or gateway.
This passage suggests a moment of personal transition or breakthrough: moving beyond obstacles and from the known toward the unknown. The portal becomes both a barrier and an opening, while the vessel embodies the energy and determination required to pass through it toward discovery, transformation, and new possibilities.
October 1988. Granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 36 × 38 × 15 in (91 × 97 × 38 cm).
Private collection - Santa Fe
September 1988. Granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 36 × 38 × 15 in (91 × 97 × 38 cm).
Private collection - Santa Fe
October 1988. Granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 79 × 26 × 10 in (201 × 66 × 25 cm).
Left to right : Vessel II 72"h - Vessel IV 70"h - Vessel VI 72"h
October 1988. Granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 72 × 28 × 16 in (183 × 71 × 41 cm).
Left to right : Vessel II 72"h - Vessel IV 70"h - Vessel VI 72"h
October 1988. Granite, stainless. Dimensions: 144 × 76 × 48 in (366 × 193 × 122 cm).
Corporate commission - Washington, DC.
East River Totem was commissioned for a prominent public site in Washington, DC, and represents the culmination of my Totem Series, begun more than a decade earlier. The tall granite form recalls the eroded rock spires that first inspired the series after my move West to Laramie, Wyoming, while the broad stainless-steel base gives the work a more architectural and monumental presence. Rising twelve feet, the sculpture functions as a visual landmark, connecting the weight and permanence of stone with an upward movement toward the sky. The title is a nod to the East Branch of the Sacandaga River that run along my studio property where it was created.
Much as the Billings Trough commission brought my tensegrity investigations to a culmination, East River Totem became the final and most monumental expression of the Totem Series. Its distilled relationship of stone and steel also points toward the increasingly architectural and celestial direction of my later public work, including SCR Sunwork, Artery Sunwork, and Passage. In this sense, the sculpture is both an ending and a transition—bringing together my longstanding concerns with geology, verticality, balance, and the relationship between natural and human-made forms while opening the way toward a new sculptural vocabulary.
October 1988. Granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 168 × 48 × 24 in (427 × 122 × 61 cm).
Private collection - Minneapolis, MN
December 1988. Granite, bronze. Dimensions: 80 × 42 × 18 in (203 × 107 × 46 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Symplegades (sim-PLEG-uh-deez)
The Clashing Rocks, which smashed together upon any ship passing between them. Jason and the Argonauts had been advised to avoid this trap by causing a bird to fly ahead of their vessel. The Symplegades clashed together on its tail feathers, then drew apart in readiness to clash again. At this moment, the Argonauts sailed through safely, with only minor damage to the very stern of their ship.
1987
February 1987. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 35 × 54 × 18 in (89 × 137 × 46 cm).
Private collection.
February 1987. Granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 16 × 17 × 7 in (41 × 43 × 18 cm).
(No photos available)
February 1987. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 48 × 53 × 21 in (122 × 135 × 53 cm).
Private collection
March 1987. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 56 × 10 × 8 in (142 × 25 × 20 cm).
Private collection - New York
March 1987. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 53 × 27 × 8 in (135 × 69 × 20 cm).
Private collection - New York
Name derives from the incredible green Himalayan glacier lakes the artist visited in 1986 white touring Pakistan and western China.
There are three lakes in Naltar Valley known as Naltar Lakes or Bashkiri Lakes at an altitude ranging from 3050“3150 m.
The first Bashkiri Lake is located at a distance of 12 kilometers (8 mi) from Upper Naltar (or the Naltar Bala).
June 1987. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 16"h x17"w x7"d.
Private collection - Baltimore
October 1987. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 85 × 57 × 22 in (216 × 145 × 56 cm).
Pyxis Awry, 1987
Pyxis Awry takes its title from Pyxis, the small southern constellation whose Latin name refers to a mariner’s compass, and awry—askew or off course. Created in 1987, it was the first work in what became my Pyxis series to feature the vessel form, historically understood in art and literature as a metaphor for the self, a group, or humankind. Here the vessel and the idea of a faulty compass come together: when our bearings are awry, we risk becoming adrift, untethered, and off course. It was created as a stealthy warning to the newly emerging awareness of what was then called “global warming”.
The sculpture established a metaphor that would reappear throughout my work, particularly in the Portals and Passages, Passage, and later Sisyphean Holiday series, where the vessel becomes a carrier through physical and metaphorical journeys. In Pyxis Awry, navigation becomes a way of questioning the choices and courses we set for ourselves, individually and collectively, and the consequences that follow. Those consequences may be personal, political, or environmental, allowing the sculpture to speak broadly about direction, responsibility, and the uncertainty of finding one’s way.
October 1987. Local granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 24 × 43 × 18 in (61 × 109 × 46 cm).
Private collection.
October 1987. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 87 × 32 × 34 in (221 × 81 × 86 cm).
Symplegades Passage
1987
polychromed granite and steel
Symplegades Passage draws its inspiration from the ancient Greek myth of the Symplegades, or "Clashing Rocks," two immense stone cliffs that relentlessly crashed together, destroying any vessel attempting to pass between them. According to legend, the hero Jason and the Argonauts successfully navigated the perilous passage with courage, skill, and a measure of divine assistance. In this sculpture, two granite forms are poised above a pedestal while a slender steel vessel slips between them, capturing the fleeting moment between danger and safe passage.
Rather than illustrating the myth literally, Symplegades Passage transforms it into a metaphor for life's pivotal moments of uncertainty and transition. The opposing stones suggest the forces that confront us throughout our lives, while the fragile vessel embodies determination, resilience, and hope. As in much of John Van Alstine's work, the ancient narrative becomes a contemporary reflection on the universal human journey—the courage to move forward despite the obstacles that stand in our way.
December 1987. Painted slate, painted steel. Dimensions: 10'h x5'w x4'd
Private collection.
December 1987. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 12'h x12'w x6'd, (Painted version - 1987)
Collection: Runy Mede Sculpture Garden, San Francisco, CA.
Drastic Measures, 1984–1987
Drastic Measures was initially created in 1984 and exhibited that year in my solo exhibition at Diane Brown Gallery in New York. The sculpture continues my exploration of stone, steel, gravity, and precarious balance, with the long sweeping steel arc and extended linear elements creating a strong sense of gesture and movement around the grounded mass of the granite. When I later wanted to exhibit the sculpture outdoors, I painted the steel surfaces to provide greater protection from the elements. What began as a practical decision also opened the possibility of using color as an expressive part of the sculpture.
This development was closely connected to my experimentation with pastel drawings during the same period. I had begun to feel that the predominantly gray palette of granite and steel needed what I described as more “color excitement,” and Drastic Measures became one of the important works in which ideas originating in the drawings moved into three dimensions. In Drastic Measures, color, line, mass, and gravity come together as active sculptural elements, extending my earlier structural concerns into a more painterly and expressive vocabulary.
January 1987. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 10’h x 7’w × 5’d
Private collection - Aspen
Luna I comes from a period when I was increasingly looking to the skies for inspiration. In 1986 I completed Solstice Calendar, my first large-scale public sculpture focused specifically on the celestial movement of the Earth in relation to the sun. That same year, the much-anticipated return of Halley’s Comet further heightened my interest in celestial movement. In Luna I, this appears most directly in the long diagonal element sweeping upward through the composition and the flame-like forms where it intersects the large lunar crescent.
The painted surfaces extend this celestial imagery through color, gesture, and movement, while the rough granite maintains the sculpture’s connection to the earth. Luna I became part of a broader direction in my work in which the moon, sun, night sky, and constellations provided a poetic framework for exploring time, space, movement, and our place within a larger cosmos. Drawings from 1986—including several Luna and Autumn Luna studies—show how actively these ideas were developing at the time.
January 1987. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 16 × 17 × 7 in (41 × 43 × 18 cm).
Private collection.
January 1987. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 8 × 9 × 4 in (20 × 23 × 10 cm). (Destroyed by artist)
Ciscle Rounder, 1987
Ciscle Rounder was created in 1987 and exhibited in my solo exhibition at the George Ciscle Gallery in Baltimore—the title a playful reference to George Ciscle. The large perforated steel circle establishes a sense of rotation and movement, while the granite, curved steel, and diagonal elements create a dynamic interplay of weight, balance, and gesture. The work continues my interest in bringing the natural mass of stone into dialogue with the structural and spatial possibilities of steel.
The sculpture also reflects my practice of treating materials and forms as part of an evolving sculptural vocabulary. Although dismantling or recycling a work can be frowned upon by historians, artists sometimes do so for practical reasons—particularly the storage of large sculpture—or from the belief that its elements can find stronger expression in new work. I occasionally find myself in this situation, and, like several of my other sculptures, Ciscle Rounder was eventually “cannibalized,” with elements reappearing in Portals and Passages I (1988, S-88-01) and Unda (1995, S-95-01), giving parts of the original sculpture new life and meaning in later works.
January 1988. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 16 × 12 × 9 in (41 × 30 × 23 cm).
Private collection: Washington, DC
1986
May 1986. Green granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 58 × 45 × 10 in (147 × 114 × 25 cm).
The AuSable Totem Series, begun in 1986, uses green granite from the quarry at AuSable Forks, New York, split into thin, rough-edged slabs whose naturally pointed forms suggest geological spires. The series extends an idea I first explored in my Totems of 1977 and returned to after moving back East in the early 1980s. The original inspiration came from the tall, eroded rock formations I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming. I was particularly struck by the way these vertical spires often rose from sloping accumulations of eroded and fallen material at their bases. In AuSable Totem I, that geological relationship is distilled into a stark sculptural structure: a single upright shard of granite rising from low, truncated triangular forms of steel.
The AuSable Totems are distinguished from the earlier works by the flat, slab-like character of the stone and the heavy, planar steel elements that anchor and frame it. Rather than disguising the means of attachment, I made the stainless-steel pins joining stone and steel deliberately prominent. They function structurally while also becoming visual punctuation, emphasizing the meeting of natural and fabricated forms. This direct expression of assembly continues a longstanding concern in my work—the physical and visual relationship between stone and steel—while the simplified, upward-thrusting composition gives the sculpture a distinctly geological and totemic presence
May 1986. Green granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 47 × 44 × 7 in (119 × 112 × 18 cm).
The AuSable Totem Series, begun in 1986, uses green granite from the quarry at AuSable Forks, New York, split into thin, rough-edged slabs whose naturally pointed forms suggest geological spires. The series extends an idea I first explored in my Totems of 1977 and returned to after moving back East in the early 1980s. The original inspiration came from the tall, eroded rock formations I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming. I was particularly struck by the way these vertical spires often rose from sloping accumulations of eroded and fallen material at their bases. In AuSable Totem II, that geological relationship is distilled into a stark sculptural structure: a single upright shard of granite rising from low, truncated triangular forms of steel.
The AuSable Totems are distinguished from the earlier works by the flat, slab-like character of the stone and the heavy, planar steel elements that anchor and frame it. Rather than disguising the means of attachment, I made the stainless-steel pins joining stone and steel deliberately prominent. They function structurally while also becoming visual punctuation, emphasizing the meeting of natural and fabricated forms. This direct expression of assembly continues a longstanding concern in my work—the physical and visual relationship between stone and steel—while the simplified, upward-thrusting composition gives the sculpture a distinctly geological and totemic presence.
June 1986. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 48 × 35 × 9 in (122 × 89 × 23 cm).
The AuSable Totem Series, begun in 1986, uses green granite from the quarry at AuSable Forks, New York, split into thin, rough-edged slabs whose naturally pointed forms suggest geological spires. The series extends an idea I first explored in my Totems of 1977 and returned to after moving back East in the early 1980s. The original inspiration came from the tall, eroded rock formations I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming. I was particularly struck by the way these vertical spires often rose from sloping accumulations of eroded and fallen material at their bases. In AuSable Totem III, that geological relationship is distilled into a stark sculptural structure: a single upright shard of granite rising from low, truncated triangular forms of steel.
The AuSable Totems are distinguished from the earlier works by the flat, slab-like character of the stone and the heavy, planar steel elements that anchor and frame it. Rather than disguising the means of attachment, I made the stainless-steel pins joining stone and steel deliberately prominent. They function structurally while also becoming visual punctuation, emphasizing the meeting of natural and fabricated forms. This direct expression of assembly continues a longstanding concern in my work—the physical and visual relationship between stone and steel—while the simplified, upward-thrusting composition gives the sculpture a distinctly geological and totemic presence
June 1986. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 12 × 6 × 4 in (30 × 15 × 10 cm).
Private collection - Philidelphia, PA
June 1986. Black granite, steel. Dimensions: 36 × 20 × 4 in (91 × 51 × 10 cm).
Black Totem I uses black granite split into thin, a rough-edged slab whose naturally pointed forms suggest geological spires. The series extends an idea I first explored in my Totems of 1977 and returned to after moving back East in the early 1980s. The original inspiration came from the tall, eroded rock formations I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming. I was particularly struck by the way these vertical spires often rose from sloping accumulations of eroded and fallen material at their bases.
May 1986. Black granite, steel. Dimensions: 50 × 37 × 7 in (127 × 94 × 18 cm).
Black Totem II uses black granite split into thin, a rough-edged slab whose naturally pointed forms suggest geological spires. The series extends an idea I first explored in my Totems of 1977 and returned to after moving back East in the early 1980s. The original inspiration came from the tall, eroded rock formations I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming. I was particularly struck by the way these vertical spires often rose from sloping accumulations of eroded and fallen material at their bases.
January 1986. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 51 × 46 × 16 in (130 × 117 × 41 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Instrument for Understanding Celestial Movement reflects my growing tendency during this period to look to the skies for inspiration. The elevated circular form and diagonal linear element suggest an imagined scientific or navigational instrument—perhaps measuring an orbit, charting a trajectory, or locating our position within a larger celestial order. These ideas were developing simultaneously in my Luna Series and in the solar and celestial concepts I was incorporating into several large-scale public works. The title deliberately suggests an “instrument,” not as something literally functional, but as a sculptural device for contemplating movement, time, space, and our relationship to the cosmos.
The work also marks a transition in my use of color and expressive surface, stimulated in part by my increasing involvement with drawing, particularly color pastels. The painted granite and steel, layered color, and richly worked, almost impasto-like surfaces introduce a more gestural and painterly vocabulary, moving away from the spare “truth to materials” aesthetic of my earlier tensegrity, or Brute Series. Here, color and texture become active elements of the sculpture, working alongside mass, line, and balance to broaden its visual and expressive possibilities.
June 1986. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 84 × 71 × 6 in (213 × 180 × 15 cm).
The AuSable Totem Series, begun in 1986, uses green granite from the quarry at AuSable Forks, New York, split into thin, rough-edged slabs whose naturally pointed forms suggest geological spires. The series extends an idea I first explored in my Totems of 1977 and returned to after moving back East in the early 1980s. The original inspiration came from the tall, eroded rock formations I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming. I was particularly struck by the way these vertical spires often rose from sloping accumulations of eroded and fallen material at their bases. In AuSable Totem I, that geological relationship is distilled into a stark sculptural structure: a single upright shard of granite rising from low, truncated triangular forms of steel.
The AuSable Totems are distinguished from the earlier works by the flat, slab-like character of the stone and the heavy, planar steel elements that anchor and frame it. Rather than disguising the means of attachment, I made the stainless-steel pins joining stone and steel deliberately prominent. They function structurally while also becoming visual punctuation, emphasizing the meeting of natural and fabricated forms. This direct expression of assembly continues a longstanding concern in my work—the physical and visual relationship between stone and steel—while the simplified, upward-thrusting composition gives the sculpture a distinctly geological and totemic presence
August 1986. Painted steel. Dimensions: 54 × 14 × 11 in (137 × 36 × 28 cm).
On the Cusp
On the Cusp reflects my growing tendency during this period to look to the skies for inspiration. The long, sweeping crescent-like form suggests a celestial trajectory—an orbit, lunar arc, or body in motion—and relates to ideas I was exploring simultaneously in the Luna Series and in the solar and celestial concepts incorporated into several of my large-scale public works. The title reinforces this sense of transition: to be “on the cusp” is to occupy a threshold, poised between one state and another.
The work also marks a transition in my approach to color and expressive surface, stimulated in part by my increasing involvement with drawing, particularly color pastels. Its richly worked, almost impasto-like surfaces and layered color introduce a gestural, painterly quality that departs from the spare “truth to materials” aesthetic of my earlier tensegrity, or Brute Series. Rather than relying primarily on the inherent character of steel, I was beginning to use color, texture, and surface as active expressive elements, expanding the visual and emotional vocabulary of my sculpture.
August 1986. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 8 × 4 × 2 in (20 × 10 × 5 cm).
No photos available.
January 1986. Painted steel. Dimensions: 63 × 33 × 12 in (160 × 84 × 30 cm). Private Collection.
Gallo
Gallo takes its title from the Spanish word for rooster, a reference suggested by the stylized, comb-like form at the top of the sculpture. Its heavily textured, almost impasto-like surface gives the steel a painterly quality, while the upright posture and sweeping circular element reinforce the proud, strutting character of a rooster. The reference remains suggestive rather than literal, allowing the sculpture to move between abstraction and recognizable imagery.
Created in 1986, Gallo also reflects my growing interest in color and expressive surface—an interest stimulated in part by my increasing involvement with drawing, particularly color pastels. Paint and richly worked surfaces began to introduce a more gestural, painterly vocabulary into my sculpture, marking a departure from the spare, “truth to materials” approach that characterized my earlier tensegrity, or Brute Series. Rather than allowing stone and steel to speak primarily through their inherent physical properties, I was beginning to use color, texture, and surface as active expressive elements, expanding the emotional and visual range of the work.
March 1986. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 72 × 24 × 24 in (183 × 61 × 61 cm).
Private collection - Baltimore, DC
Luna II
Luna II comes from a period when I was increasingly looking to the skies for inspiration. In 1986 I completed Solstice Calendar, my first large-scale public sculpture focused specifically on the celestial movement of the Earth in relation to the sun. That same year, the much-anticipated return of Halley’s Comet, along with the tragic Challenger disaster and the unforgettable media images of its descent from the sky, further intensified my awareness of the heavens as a realm of both wonder and uncertainty. In Luna II, these ideas appear most directly in the large lunar crescent, the long diagonal element sweeping upward through the composition, and the flame-like forms at their intersection.
Luna II became part of a broader direction in my work in which the moon, sun, night sky, and constellations provided a poetic framework for exploring time, space, movement, and our place within a larger cosmos. Drawings from 1986—including several Luna and Autumn Luna studies—show how actively these ideas were developing. A related celestial concept also informed my proposal that year for a major commission in Boston’s Back Bay, extending these concerns from intimate drawings and sculpture into the scale of public art.
January 1986. Granite, stainless steel. Dimensions: 22 × 40 × 20 in (56 × 102 × 51 cm).
Solstice Calendar (1985–86) was John Van Alstine's third major public commission and the first in a series of monumental sculptures exploring the relationship between the earth, the sun, and the passage of time. Commissioned for Austin College in Sherman, Texas, the work consists of two monumental granite pylons joined by a horizontal stone element. At solar noon each day, a steel bar suspended between the pylons casts a shadow that marks the changing seasons, recording the winter and summer solstices and the spring and autumn equinoxes. Conceived as both sculpture and scientific instrument, the work bridges art, astronomy, and landscape.
Inspired by Van Alstine's travels among the prehistoric stone monuments of Britain and the ceremonial architecture of Mesoamerica, Solstice Calendarreflects his enduring interest in humankind's oldest methods of understanding the cosmos. Positioned between Austin College's arts and sciences buildings, the sculpture symbolizes the union of those disciplines while inviting viewers to experience the rhythms of the natural world. The success of the project established the foundation for Van Alstine's continuing Celestial Works series, including SCR Sunwork, Artery Sunwork, 2nd Street Sunwork, and Via Solaris.
1985
March 1985. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 51 × 19 × 13 in (130 × 48 × 33 cm).
Stone Totem III, is a continuation of the “closed-base” totems and the first one that is table size. The work reflects my transition away from the open, interlocking structures of the tensegrity, or Brute Series, toward more solid forms and a greater emphasis on overall image and visual presence.
The Totem Series grew from the tall, eroded rock spires I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming, particularly the way they rose from sloping accumulations of fallen material at their bases. Here that geological relationship is distilled into the contrast between the rugged vertical slate and low geoetric steel pyramid.
March 1985. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 38 × 50 × 16 in (97 × 127 × 41 cm).
Private Collection.
March 1986. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 36 × 23 × 15 in (91 × 58 × 38 cm).
Slate Totem IV, is a continuation of the “closed-base” totems and the first one that is table size. The work reflects my transition away from the open, interlocking structures of the tensegrity, or Brute Series, toward more solid forms and a greater emphasis on overall image and visual presence.
The Totem Series grew from the tall, eroded rock spires I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming, particularly the way they rose from sloping accumulations of fallen material at their bases. Here that geological relationship is distilled into the contrast between the rugged vertical slate and low geometric steel pyramid.
June 1985. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 44 × 77 × 40 in (112 × 196 × 102 cm).
Collection: Grounds for Sculpture, Hamilton, NJ
June 1985. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 12 × 34 × 48 in (30 × 86 × 122 cm).
St. Lawrence University Collection, Canton, New York
July 1985. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 31 × 41 × 28 in (79 × 104 × 71 cm).
Private collection Washington, DC
August 1985. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 32 × 42 × 12 in (81 × 107 × 30 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
August 1985. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 28 × 26 × 12 in (71 × 66 × 30 cm).
Private collection - Baltimore
January 1985. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 6 × 8 × 4 in (15 × 20 × 10 cm).
Collection: Newark Museum of Art, Newark, NJ
November 1985. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 7 × 10 × 5 in (18 × 25 × 13 cm).
Private collection - Baltimore MD.
May 1985. Painted granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 24 × 36 × 33 in (61 × 91 × 84 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
LUNA I, 1985, granite and steel, 10'h x7'w x5'd
(Original 1985 unpainted version)
Private collection - Aspen
1984
January 1984. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 12 × 12 × 8 in (30 × 30 × 20 cm).
Collection: Runy Mede Sculpture Garden, San Francisco, CA
Drastic Measures was initially created in 1984 and exhibited that year in my solo exhibition at Diane Brown Gallery in New York. The sculpture continues my exploration of stone, steel, gravity, and precarious balance, with the long sweeping steel arc and extended linear elements creating a strong sense of gesture and movement around the grounded mass of the granite. When I later wanted to exhibit the sculpture outdoors, I painted the steel surfaces to provide greater protection from the elements. What began as a practical decision also opened the possibility of using color as an expressive part of the sculpture.
January 1984. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 20 × 30 × 15 in (51 × 76 × 38 cm).
Private Collection
January 1984. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 22 × 42 × 10 in (56 × 107 × 25 cm).
Private collection - Baltimore
January 1984. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 32 × 39 × 18 in (81 × 99 × 46 cm).
Private collection - Baltimore
April 1984. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 10 × 4 × 4 in (25 × 10 × 10 cm).
Corporate collection.
April 1984. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 8.5 × 7 × 3.5 in (22 × 18 × 9 cm).
Private collection - Los Angeles
June 1984. Slate, steel. Dimensions: 102 × 44 × 41 in (259 × 112 × 104 cm).
Private collection - New Jersey
Slate Totem I, created at my Jersey City studio, was the third of the “closed-base” totems and the first to use slate rather than granite. The work reflects my transition away from the open, interlocking structures of the tensegrity, or Brute Series, toward more solid forms and a greater emphasis on overall image and visual presence. A steel wedge salvaged from heavy construction machinery is prominently integrated between the two halves of the pyramidal base, acting as a structural fastener that prevents them from spreading. Its exposed function deliberately recalls my earlier work, where how a sculpture held itself together was central to both its structure and meaning.
The Totem Series grew from the tall, eroded rock spires I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming, particularly the way they rose from sloping accumulations of fallen material at their bases. Here that geological relationship is distilled into the contrast between the rugged vertical slate and low geometric steel pyramid. While Slate Totem I retains the structural emphasis of my earlier work through its exposed wedge connector, structure is increasingly placed in service of a more unified and evocative sculptural image.
September 1984. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 8.5 × 4 × 3.5 in (22 × 10 × 9 cm).
Collection: Dayton Institute of Art, Dayton, OH
October 1984. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 24 × 30 × 16 in (61 × 76 × 41 cm).
Private collection - Baltimore
December 1984. Slate, steel. Dimensions: 10.5 × 4 × 3 in (27 × 10 × 8 cm).
Collection: Delaware Museum, Wilmington, DE
Slate Totem II, created at my Jersey City studio, was the fourth of the “closed-base” totems and the second to use slate rather than granite. The work continues my transition away from the open, interlocking structures of the tensegrity, or Brute Series, toward more solid forms and a greater emphasis on overall image and visual presence. A large steel locking pin, salvaged from heavy construction machinery, is prominently positioned between the two halves of the pyramidal base, structurally preventing them from spreading. Welded flanges give the connector a cross-like or cruciform appearance. While its exposed function recalls my earlier concern with making how a sculpture holds itself together central to the work, its religious associations introduce a more ritualistic and mystical presence.
The Totem Series grew from the tall, eroded rock spires I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming, particularly the way they rose from sloping accumulations of fallen material at their bases. In Slate Totem II, that geological relationship is distilled into the contrast between the rugged vertical slate and low geometric steel pyramid. The prominent cruciform connector occupies a threshold between function and symbol: it physically locks the sculpture together while suggesting meanings beyond its structural role. In this sense, the work marks a further movement away from the “truth to materials” emphasis of my earlier sculpture toward a more evocative, symbolic, and ritualistic visual language.
December 1984. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 6.5 × 7.5 × 3.5 in (17 × 19 × 9 cm).
Private collection - Chicago, IL
1983
May 1983. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 3.5 × 3.5 × 2 ft.
Private Collection
Off and Running, 1983
Off and Running belongs to a transitional period when the structural concerns of my earlier tensegrity, or Brute Series, were becoming increasingly gestural and associative. The granite remains a substantial physical presence, held in an active relationship with forged and fabricated steel, but the steel now sweeps outward and upward in animated, almost organic forms. Weight and balance remain important, while the composition suggests movement rather than structural equilibrium alone.
The title reinforces this sense of release and forward motion. The crescent-like steel form and long branching element seem to propel the stone upward and ahead, giving the sculpture an almost running or leaping character. Rather than depicting movement literally, Off and Running uses the contrast between heavy granite and energetic steel to create a sense of momentum—an appropriate metaphor for my work at the time as it moved into a more expressive sculptural language.
Work was exhibited in my 1984 solo show with Diane Brown Gallery, 100 Green Street, SOHO, NYC and sold to private collector.
October 1983. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 16 × 25 × 15 in (41 × 64 × 38 cm).
Corporate Collection: Luck Stone Corp. - Richmond, VA
Big Go-Round (1983) was John Van Alstine's second major public commission and his first corporate installation, created for the headquarters of Luck Stone Corporation in Richmond, Virginia. Standing approximately sixteen feet high, the sculpture combines massive granite with fabricated steel in a sweeping circular composition that marked a pivotal shift in the artist's work—from the tightly structured "Nature of Stone" sculptures of the 1970s toward a more fluid, lyrical vocabulary inspired by landscape, motion, and organic growth.
Commissioned by one of the nation's leading producers of crushed stone, Big Go-Round celebrates both the material from which it is made and the dynamic forces that shape the earth. Rather than depicting industry directly, the sculpture transforms stone and steel into an image of balance, movement, and renewal. The project proved to be an important milestone, leading to a long series of large-scale public commissions that would define Van Alstine's career over the following four decades.
MORE INFO: Big Go-Round chapter in AMERICAN MONUMENTS
March 1983. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 8 × 12 × 5 in (20 × 30 × 13 cm).
Collection of Hirshhorn Museum, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC.
4th Beast of Daniel, 1983
4th Beast of Daniel belongs to a transitional period in my work when the structural concerns of my earlier tensegrity, or Brute Series, were becoming more expressive and metaphorical. The massive granite slabs still rely upon steel, gravity, weight, and balance to establish an interdependent structure, but the steel has taken on a distinctly aggressive character. Long tubular elements bend and thrust through the composition, while welded spikes transform what might otherwise be purely structural forms into something animated and threatening.
The title refers to the fourth beast in the Book of Daniel—a terrifying creature described as extraordinarily powerful, with iron teeth and ten horns. Rather than illustrating the biblical passage literally, I use its imagery as a metaphorical framework for the sculpture’s sense of menace and power. The rough granite and fabricated steel—with its spikes and horn-like projections—suggest a form somewhere between architecture, machine, and beast, signaling my growing interest in using structural forces to carry psychological and mythological associations.
January 1983. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 7.5 × 4 × 3 ft.
Private collection - Washington, DC
Totem II was created at my N Street studio in Washington, DC, and was the second of what I think of as the “closed-base” totems, marking an important transition in my work. I was moving away from the open, interlocking forged-steel structures of the tensegrity, or Brute Series, toward more solid supporting forms and a greater emphasis on the sculpture’s overall image and visual presence. The pyramidal steel base supports the tall vertical stone while recalling the sloping geological formations that originally inspired the Totem Series.
The original inspiration for the Totems came from the tall, eroded rock spires I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming. I was particularly struck by the way these vertical formations often rose from broad, sloping accumulations of eroded and fallen material gathered at their bases over time. In Totem II, that geological relationship is transformed into the contrast between the rugged, vertical stone and the low, geometric steel pyramid. Rather than focusing primarily on making physical forces visible, as I had in the tensegrity works, I was beginning to use structure in service of a more unified and evocative sculptural image. Totem I established this new direction and was followed by six additional closed-base totems.
April 1983. Granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 9 × 4 × 4 ft. Private Collection
Sea Stem, 1983
Sea Stem belongs to a transitional period when the structural concerns of my earlier tensegrity, or Brute Series, were becoming more expressive and metaphorical. A long slab of granite rises at a steep diagonal, its weight countered by a dark tubular steel element with small welded projections. Gravity, balance, and arrested motion remain central, but the forms have begun to move beyond purely structural concerns.
The title Sea Stem suggests both the organic growth of a plant and the structural stem of a vessel, bringing together references to nature and navigation. The rising stone and branching steel evoke a mast, stalk, or marine form without becoming literally representational, reflecting my growing interest in allowing stone and steel to carry broader associations while retaining their inherent physical character.
1982/83. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 8 × 10 × 6 ft.
Collection: GULBENKIAN MUSEUM, Lisbon, Portugal
In the Clear, 1982/83
In the Clear marks an important transition in my work as I began moving beyond the tightly structured, gravity-driven concerns of my earlier tensegrity, or Brute Series. After moving to Washington, DC, I became increasingly responsive to the urban environment and to found industrial materials. A timely discovery of crushed I-beams, pipes, and other steel remnants in a subway construction yard provided a new vocabulary of forms. Here, stone and steel remain physically interdependent, but the steel begins to move more freely—projecting outward and upward in a loose, gestural manner rather than functioning solely as structure.
The title operates on several levels. In the Clear suggests a landscape—a form emerging into a clearing—and the tall, curving steel element with its small projecting shapes carries a suggestion of vegetation or new growth. More importantly, the title describes my own desire at the time to “break clear” of the self-imposed restrictions of making sculpture governed primarily by structural necessity. The work became a bridge between the concentrated physical forces of my earlier stone-and-steel sculpture and the more associative, gestural, and metaphorical language that would increasingly characterize my work during the 1980s.
January 1983. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 20 × 40 × 18 in (51 × 102 × 46 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
January 1983. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 20 × 48 × 24 in (51 × 122 × 61 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
March 1983. Black granite, painted steel. Dimensions: 56 × 46 × 17 in (142 × 117 × 43 cm). Private collection.
Firehead, 1983
Firehead belongs to a transitional period in my work when the structural concerns of my earlier tensegrity, or Brute Series, were expanding into a more expressive and metaphorical language. A dark, roughly textured stone rises vertically within an open circular steel form, while sharply pointed, flame-like elements radiate outward. The stone retains its physical presence and weight, but the increasingly animated steel moves beyond a purely structural role, giving the sculpture a strong figurative and psychological character.
The title Firehead reinforces this transformation. The circular form suggests a head, halo, sun, or burst of flame, while the central stone evokes a face or totemic presence. Fiery reds, oranges, and yellows heighten the sense of heat and energy, reflecting my growing interest in using stone and steel to carry broader natural and human associations.
1983. Marble, steel. Dimensions: 67 × 72 × 48 in (170 × 183 × 122 cm). Destroyed.
Thorned Marble Arch, 1983
Thorned Marble Arch continues my exploration of the arch, a form that appeared earlier in my tensegrity, or Brute Series, but here becomes more expressive and metaphorical. A sweeping steel arc rises from the massive marble toward a tall vertical element, while thorn-like projections transform the steel from a purely structural element into something more animated and organic.
The arch suggests support and passage, while the thorns introduce tension and resistance. The marble anchors the composition as the steel reaches outward and upward, balancing weight and gravity against growth and movement. The work reflects my shift during this period toward a more associative and expressive sculptural language.
1982
September 1982. Gray granite, steel. Dimensions: 15 × 6 × 5 ft.
Collection: Grounds for Sculpture - Hamilton, NJ
Torque 14 is one of the larger and most physically dramatic works from my tensegrity, or Brute Series. Two large pieces of gray granite are held in a precarious but stable relationship by interlocking forged-steel bars. The weight of the stones places the steel under torque, providing the energy—or “glue”—that locks the sculpture together without welding. The long diagonal stone appears almost to defy gravity, creating a “static energy event”—a sculpture held in arrested motion.
At roughly six feet high and fifteen feet long, Torque 14 brings these ideas to an architectural scale. The rough granite remains essentially as found, while the forged steel channels and makes visible the forces of gravity, tension, leverage, and balance. In this sense, the work is deliberately self-referential—“assemblage about assemblage, sculpture about sculpture”—with the forces holding it together becoming both its structure and its subject. Created in 1982, it stands near the culmination of these early investigations, which reached their largest public expression that same year in Trough in Billings, Montana.
August 1982. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 11 × 25 × 12 in (28 × 64 × 30 cm).
Public Commission - Billings, Montana (S-82-03)
Trough (1982) was John Van Alstine's first large-scale public commission, created to commemorate the centennial of Billings, Montana. Composed of two monumental granite slabs held in dynamic suspension by interlocking steel elements, the sculpture marked the culmination of the artist's early Nature of Stone series while introducing the monumental scale and site-specific thinking that would define his public work for the next four decades.
Rather than serving as an isolated object, Trough was conceived as a response to its landscape. The dramatic negative space between the leaning stones echoes the broad geological trough carved by the Yellowstone River through the surrounding high plains, forging a direct connection between sculpture and place. This fusion of abstract form, geological history, and human experience established an approach that became a hallmark of Van Alstine's monumental commissions throughout the United States and abroad.
November 1982. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 64 × 176 × 90 in (163 × 447 × 229 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Beam Torque marks an important transition in my work, as I began moving away from the tightly formulated tensegrity, or Brute Series, that had occupied me since the mid-1970s. I had come to feel that I had largely exhausted the possibilities of this “sculpture about sculpture” approach and was looking for a way forward. At the same time, I gained access to a cache of large I-beams, bent pipe, and other industrial steel, opening new formal possibilities. In Beam Torque, the opposing granite slabs still generate a strong sense of torque, weight, and arrested motion, but the steel no longer simply traces and channels gravitational forces as it had in the earlier work.
Although the pinned connections between stone and steel remain important and deliberately visible, their role is less dominant. Instead, the massive I-beam becomes a bold visual form in its own right, shifting the emphasis from how the sculpture holds itself together toward the overall image it creates. Beam Torque therefore straddles two directions: it retains the physical energy and precarious equilibrium of the Brute Series while moving beyond its self-referential focus. Works such as In the Clear, 4th Beast of Daniel, and Cronus would soon follow, opening my sculpture to a more expressive and associative vocabulary, with titles and imagery introducing ideas beyond the mechanics of sculpture itself.
January 1982. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 8 × 3 × 4 ft.
Private collection - Washington, DC
Totem I was created at my N Street studio in Washington, DC, and was the first of what I think of as the “closed-base” totems, marking an important transition in my work. I was moving away from the open, interlocking forged-steel structures of the tensegrity, or Brute Series, toward more solid supporting forms and a greater emphasis on the sculpture’s overall image and visual presence. The pyramidal steel base supports the tall vertical stone while recalling the sloping geological formations that originally inspired the Totem Series. The forged-steel clasps at the front and back, wrapping around projecting steel posts to prevent the base from spreading, are both functional and a deliberate link to the structural vocabulary of my earlier work.
The original inspiration for the Totems came from the tall, eroded rock spires I encountered after moving West to Laramie, Wyoming. I was particularly struck by the way these vertical formations often rose from broad, sloping accumulations of eroded and fallen material gathered at their bases over time. In Totem I, that geological relationship is transformed into the contrast between the rugged, vertical stone and the low, geometric steel pyramid. Rather than focusing primarily on making physical forces visible, as I had in the tensegrity works, I was beginning to use structure in service of a more unified and evocative sculptural image. Totem I established this new direction and was followed by four additional closed-base totems.
January 1982. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 17 × 4 × 5 in (43 × 10 × 13 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Pull, 1982
Pull continues my exploration of gravity, tension, and compression as active sculptural forces. Two granite slabs are separated in space yet made structurally dependent through forged-steel bars. The large foreground stone leans dramatically forward while the smaller stone acts as a counterweight, creating a strong sense of pulling against one another. As in the Torque works, the sculpture becomes a “static energy event”—a moment of physical action held in arrested motion. This approach grew from my use of stone as an assemblage element rather than something to be carved into a predetermined form.
The title Pull is deliberately both noun and verb, identifying the physical force within the sculpture as well as suggesting an action taking place. The long diagonal steel element makes that otherwise invisible force visible, drawing the eye—and seemingly the smaller stone—toward the larger mass. The work is essentially sculpture about sculpture, with gravity, balance, and the act of holding disparate materials together becoming both its structure and its subject.
January 1982. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 24 × 32 × 92 in (61 × 81 × 234 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Torque XI is part of my tensegrity, or Brute Series, in which gravity, weight, tension, and compression become active sculptural forces. Two elongated granite forms lean in opposing directions, held in equilibrium by interlocking forged-steel bars. The weight of the stones places the steel under torque, providing the energy—or “glue”—that holds the sculpture together without welding and creates a “static energy event”—a sculpture held in arrested motion.
The long horizontal steel bars open the sculpture into the surrounding space while making the forces between the separated stones visible. Acting as lines drawn in space, they trace the tension and twisting action that bind the granite masses together. The work is deliberately self-referential—sculpture about sculpture, assemblage about assemblage—with its structure and physical forces becoming its subject.
1982. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 11 × 7 × 5 ft.
Collection - SMITHSONION AMERICAN ART MUSEUM, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC
NMAA Wedge, 1982
NMAA Wedge grew from an invitation by curator Harry Rand at the National Museum of American Art, whom I had met when my Gallery Ladder was exhibited there as part of the touring 1st Western States Biennial. When a prominent site at the museum entrance became available, Rand suggested that one of my sculptures might work well there. I had nothing of the appropriate scale, so I created NMAA Wedge specifically for the site. The eleven-foot-high sculpture was installed at the museum later that year and subsequently entered the collection as a gift of collector Scott Lange. The National Museum of American Art was later renamed the Smithsonian American Art Museum.
The work extends my Wedge Series, combining an elevated, stilt-like structure with the principles of my tensegrity, or Brute Series. A massive wedge-shaped piece of granite is suspended within long forged-steel rods that wrap and interlock around the stone. Gravity and the weight of the granite provide the energy—or “glue”—that locks the structure together, making the stone an active structural element. As with Crimp and Torque, the title Wedge is deliberately both noun and verb: it identifies the form while describing the physical action taking place. At this larger, architectural scale, the work transforms my continuing exploration of weight, balance, tension, and visible assembly into a public presence.
Teddy’s Wedge, 1982
S-82-09
January 1982. Granite, steel.
Dimensions: 9 × 6 × 5 ft (274 × 183 × 152 cm)
Collection: Herbert F. Johnson Museum of Art, Cornell University, Ithaca, NY
Gift of Teddy Westreich
Teddy’s Wedge is a large-scale development of my Wedge Series, which combined the elevated, stilt-like structures of earlier works such as Triad and the Mantel Arches with the structural principles of my tensegrity, or Brute Series. Unlike the carved marble Wedges of 1975, which predated my tensegrity concerns, here a wedge-shaped piece of granite is suspended within long forged-steel rods that wrap and interlock around the stone. Gravity and the weight of the granite provide the energy—or “glue”—that locks the structure together, making the stone an active structural element.
As with titles such as Crimp and Torque, Wedge is deliberately both noun and verb: the granite is literally wedged into the steel structure, making the sculpture both object and action. The work extends my exploration of weight, balance, tension, and visible assembly into a more vertical and architectural form. The title honors Washington, DC collector Teddy Westreich, who commissioned the sculpture and later donated it to the Johnson Museum at Cornell University.
January 1982. Yellow granite, steel. Dimensions: 72 × 80 × 92 in (183 × 203 × 234 cm). Private Collection.
Tripod with Umbilical marks a pivotal moment in my work, when I began breaking away from the tightly formulated tensegrity, or Brute Series, that had occupied me through the late 1970s and early 1980s. The three long granite elements are still joined through an elaborate system of interlocking forged-steel bars, retaining the earlier emphasis on gravity, structural interdependence, and visible assembly. Yet the steel begins to take on a new role. Most notably, a long curved bar extends freely into space rather than serving a purely structural function—what I described at the time as “my flag going up” to signal that I was beginning to break away.
The title identifies this projecting element as an “umbilical”—a lifeline connecting where I had been with where the work was heading. Its animated, almost gestural line introduces an expressive element beyond the self-referential “sculpture about sculpture” concerns of the Brute Series. In this sense, Tripod with Umbilical stands directly on the threshold between two periods: still rooted in the structural vocabulary of my earlier work, but beginning to open toward a more image-driven, associative, and metaphorical language. This transition would become more explicit later in 1982 with works such as Beam Torque and In the Clear.
April 1982. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 12 × 12 × 4 ft.
Private collection - Washington, DC
Cronus, 1982
Cronus marks an important transition from the structural concerns of my earlier tensegrity, or Brute Series, toward a more expressive and metaphorical language. The massive granite slab remains dependent upon steel, weight, and balance, but the sweeping arch, animated by sharp, tooth-like projections, introduces a more aggressive, almost figurative presence.
The title refers to Cronus, the powerful Titan who swallowed his children, fearing one would eventually overthrow him. When Zeus was born, his mother Rhea saved him by wrapping a stone in swaddling clothes and giving it to Cronus, who swallowed it believing it was his son. The granite anchoring the sculpture suggests this stone, while the spiked steel evokes the threatening power of Cronus himself. Rather than illustrating the myth literally, I use it as a framework for ideas of power, conflict, and inevitable change.
The work is shown here in the courtyard of the American Institute of Architects’ national headquarters in Washington, DC. It was later acquired by a Washington-area collector and developer and displayed at one of his buildings in Rosslyn, Virginia, just across the Key Bridge from Georgetown.
January 1982. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 5 × 7 × 4 in (13 × 18 × 10 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Torque X is part of my tensegrity, or Brute Series, in which gravity, weight, tension, and compression become active sculptural forces. Two rough granite forms are held in equilibrium by interlocking forged-steel bars, with the weight of the stones literally torquing the steel together. Gravity becomes the energy—or “glue”—that holds the sculpture without welding, creating what I think of as a “static energy event”—a sculpture held in arrested motion.
The title Torque describes both the twisting force within the sculpture and the action responsible for its assembly. The natural mass and quarry marks of the granite are left intact, while the forged steel traces and makes visible the forces acting between the stones. In this sense, the work is deliberately self-referential—sculpture about sculpture, assemblage about assemblage—with the act of holding its materials together becoming both its structure and its subject.
1982. Granite, forged steel. Dimensions: 13 × 24 × 15 in (33 × 61 × 38 cm).
Tripod with Umbilical II, 1982
Tripod with Umbilical II is a table-top variation on the “umbilical” theme and comes from a pivotal period when I was beginning to break away from the tightly formulated tensegrity, or Brute Series. The granite elements remain joined by interlocking forged-steel bars, retaining the earlier emphasis on gravity, structural interdependence, and visible assembly. Yet the steel begins to take on a new role, most notably in the long, curved bar that extends freely into the table surface and on into space rather than serving a purely structural function.
The projecting “umbilical” acts as a lifeline or symbolic connection between where my work had been and where it was heading. Its gestural line moves beyond the self-referential “sculpture about sculpture” concerns of the Brute Series toward a more expressive, associative, and metaphorical language that would emerge more fully later in 1982.
1981
January 1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 92 × 44 ×36 in.
Triad belongs to a transitional group of works in which I began lifting stone away from the floor onto tall, attenuated steel structures. Three pieces of found Vinalhaven granite are elevated on slender steel-rod supports, emphasizing the contrast between the weight and mass of the stone and the apparent fragility of the structure supporting it. Writing about my 1981 Osuna Gallery exhibition, critics recognized this shift from the more complex, interlocking structures of my earlier tensegrity work toward taller, more linear configurations while retaining the underlying concerns with gravity, balance, and the possibility of collapse. Jo Ann Lewis similarly described these works as tall, stilt-like structures in which weight and balance remained central.
Although Triad moves away from the tightly interlocked vocabulary of the Brute Series, it preserves its sense of real physical tension and precarious balance. The thin steel legs seem almost inadequate to the task of supporting the massive stones, making gravity—and the possibility of falling—an active part of the sculpture. At the same time, the elevation and simplified vertical structure give the work a more architectural and increasingly image-driven presence. In retrospect, Triad points toward the broader transition that would become explicit the following year in Tripod with Umbilical, when I began deliberately breaking away from work that was primarily structurally driven.
January 1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 62 × 28 × 12 in (157 × 71 × 30 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Vinalhaven Mantel Arch I grew out of my Arch and Prop sculptures and marks a transitional moment in my tensegrity, or Brute Series. Wanting to lift these works from the floor and give them greater visual presence, I began constructing tall, pedestal-like mantels using the same steel rod employed in the earlier tensegrity works. Two found pieces of granite, gathered from abandoned quarries on Vinalhaven Island off the coast of Maine, are balanced point-to-point to create a precarious arch. Small steel rods welded to either end of the top plate act as retainers, preventing the stones from slipping outward and the arch from collapsing.
Like my earlier tensegrity works, the sculpture depends upon actual gravity, weight, balance, and restraint, creating a sense of real rather than illusionary danger—an approach influenced in part by Richard Serra’s emphasis on the physical reality of sculpture. At the same time, the tall steel framework introduces a more architectural and image-driven presence. Vinalhaven Mantel Arch I therefore stands between the direct, structural concerns of the Brute Series and the broader expressive and associative possibilities that would increasingly enter my work over the next several years.
January 1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 72 × 18 × 12 in (183 × 46 × 30 cm). private collection,
Wedge, 1981
Wedge was the first in a series that combined the elevated, stilt-like structures of works such as Triad and the Mantel Arches with the structural principles of my tensegrity, or Brute Series. Unlike the carved marble Wedges of 1975, which predated my tensegrity concerns, here a wedge-shaped piece of granite is suspended within long forged-steel rods that wrap and interlock around the stone. Gravity and the weight of the granite provide the energy—or “glue”—that locks the structure together, continuing my use of stone as an active structural element.
As with titles such as Crimp and Torque, Wedge is deliberately both noun and verb: it identifies the stone form while also describing the action taking place. The granite is literally wedged into the steel structure, making the sculpture both object and action. The work extends my exploration of weight, balance, tension, and visible assembly into a more vertical and architectural form. Several additional Wedge sculptures followed.
January 1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 70 × 38 × 12 in (178 × 97 × 30 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Vinalhaven Mantel Arch II, 1981
Vinalhaven Mantel Arch II directly followed Vinalhaven Mantel Arch I and grew out of my Arch and Prop sculptures and marks a transitional moment in my tensegrity, or Brute Series. Wanting to lift these works from the floor and give them greater visual presence, I began constructing tall, pedestal-like mantels using the same steel rod employed in the earlier tensegrity works. Two found pieces of granite, gathered from abandoned quarries on Vinalhaven Island off the coast of Maine, are balanced point-to-point to create a precarious arch. Small steel rods welded to either end of the top plate act as retainers, preventing the stones from slipping outward and the arch from collapsing.
Like my earlier tensegrity works, the sculpture depends upon actual gravity, weight, balance, and restraint, creating a sense of real rather than illusionary danger—an approach influenced in part by Richard Serra’s emphasis on the physical reality of sculpture. At the same time, the tall steel framework introduces a more architectural and image-driven presence. Vinalhaven Mantel Arch I and II therefore stands between the direct, structural concerns of the Brute Series and the broader expressive and associative possibilities that would increasingly enter my work over the next several years.
1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 77 × 20 × 20 in (196 × 51 × 51 cm).
Stone Column, 1981
Stone Column extends the structural concerns of my tensegrity, or Brute Series, into a tall, spare vertical form. A wedge-shaped piece of granite is elevated within long forged-steel bars that rise from the base and wrap around the stone. Gravity and the weight of the granite become active structural forces, creating a precarious but stable equilibrium—a static energy event held in arrested motion.
The extreme verticality gives the sculpture an almost architectural or totemic presence, while the long steel bars function as lines drawn in space. Unlike Wedge Column, where the forged bars visibly weave and interlock, Stone Column is more restrained and symmetrical, concentrating the structural action at the top where the steel grips and supports the stone. The result is a direct expression of weight, elevation, tension, and balance.
January 1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 92 × 32 × 32 in (234 × 81 × 81 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Wedge V, 1981
Wedge V extends the structural principles of my tensegrity, or Brute Series, into a tall, open framework. A wedge-shaped piece of granite is suspended high within long forged-steel bars, its weight becoming the active force that locks the elements together. The stone appears precariously elevated, yet the opposing forces of gravity, tension, and compression create a stable equilibrium—a static energy event held in arrested motion.
The elongated steel supports act as lines drawn in space, emphasizing the distance between the suspended stone and the ground. At the top, the forged bars wrap and interlock tightly around the granite, making the mechanics of assembly visible. The work brings together two recurring concerns in my sculpture: the physical interaction of stone and steel and the expressive possibilities of elevation, balance, and gravity.
Walking Column, 1981
January 1981. Granite, steel. 98 × 40 × 40 in (249 × 102 × 102 cm).
Private collection, Aiken, SC.
Walking Column features a tall, narrow piece of granite elevated and held within a spare framework of forged-steel bars. Gravity and the weight of the stone remain active structural forces, but the outward-curving steel legs give the sculpture an animated, almost figurative presence, as though the massive stone has been lifted from the ground and set in motion.
The title plays on the contradiction between the immovable nature of stone and the suggestion of movement. The long steel supports function both structurally and as lines drawn in space, transforming the column into something that appears to stand, stride, or walk. The work reflects my growing interest during this period in moving beyond purely structural concerns toward a more associative and expressive sculptural language.
1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 81 × 40 × 32 in (206 × 102 × 81 cm). Destroyed.
Gable Top, 1981
Gable Top continues my exploration of elevated stone forms during this period. A massive, roughly triangular piece of granite rests high within a spare framework of forged-steel bars, its weight and gravity becoming active parts of the sculpture. The long, slightly flared supports lift the stone well above the ground, creating a tension between its substantial mass and the apparent lightness of the open structure.
The title comes directly from the granite’s naturally occurring gable-like shape, suggesting the roofline of a simple architectural structure. Rather than carving the stone to create this association, I responded to its existing form and allowed the steel framework to reinforce it. The result brings together recurring concerns in my work—weight and elevation, stone and steel, nature and architecture—while moving toward a more associative sculptural language.
Vinalhaven Arch VII, 1981
Granite, steel. 24 × 45 × 10 in (61 × 114 × 25 cm).
Private collection, Washington, DC.
Vinalhaven Arch VII is part of my continuing exploration of the arch within the tensegrity, or Brute Series. Rough granite stones lean and bear upon one another, using gravity, compression, and their considerable weight to create a precarious but stable structure. A long forged-steel bar beneath the stones binds the composition together, while the open central space becomes as important as the physical elements surrounding it.
The title refers to Vinalhaven, Maine, where I sourced the granite. Rather than carving the stones, I worked with their existing shapes, mass, and irregular surfaces, positioning them so weight and pressure become active structural forces. In this work, as in several others from the series, I employed hidden steel pins to secure some of the stones in service of the overall composition—a departure from my earlier insistence that the means of assembly remain visible.
1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 18 × 38 × 12 in (46 × 97 × 30 cm).
Vinalhaven Arch IX, 1981
Vinalhaven Arch IX is part of my continuing exploration of the arch within the tensegrity, or Brute Series. Rough granite blocks lean and bear upon one another to create a self-supporting arch in which gravity and compression become active structural forces. The long forged-steel bar running beneath the stones binds the composition together, making the forces of weight, pressure, and balance visible.
The title refers to Vinalhaven, Maine, where I sourced the stones. Rather than carving the stone into an architectural form, I use its existing shape, mass, and irregular surfaces to construct the arch. For the first time I employed hidden steel pins to secure several of the stones in service of the overall image, a departure from my earlier works.
January 1981. Pink granite, steel. Dimensions: 44 × 105 × 59 in (112 × 267 × 150 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Torque 4 is part of my tensegrity, or Brute Series, in which gravity, weight, tension, and compression become active sculptural forces. Two rough granite forms are held in equilibrium by interlocking forged-steel bars, with the weight of the stones literally torquing the steel together. Gravity becomes the energy—or “glue”—that holds the sculpture without welding, creating what I think of as a “static energy event”—a sculpture held in arrested motion.
The title Torque describes both the twisting force within the sculpture and the action responsible for its assembly. The natural mass and quarry marks of the granite are left intact, while the forged steel traces and makes visible the forces acting between the stones. In this sense, the work is deliberately self-referential—sculpture about sculpture, assemblage about assemblage—with the act of holding its materials together becoming both its structure and its subject.
1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 77 × 21 × 18 in (196 × 53 × 46 cm).
Private collection - Washington, DC
Wedge Column, 1981
Wedge Column extends the structural concerns of my tensegrity, or Brute Series, into a tall, attenuated vertical form. A wedge-shaped piece of granite is suspended high within long forged-steel rods that wrap and interlock around the stone. Gravity and the weight of the granite place the steel under tension, creating an interdependent structure in which the stone appears precariously elevated yet firmly held—a static energy event in arrested motion.
The forged-steel rods continue downward as long lines drawn in space, connecting the suspended stone to the base. At both top and bottom, the bars bend, cross, and weave around one another, making the forces holding the sculpture together visually explicit. The work combines the physical principles of my Brute Series with an increasing interest in verticality, elevation, and the expressive linear qualities of forged steel.
January 1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 36 × 56 × 36 in (91 × 142 × 91 cm).
Private collection - New York
Torque 5 is part of my tensegrity, or Brute Series, in which gravity, weight, tension, and compression become active sculptural forces. Two rough granite forms are held in equilibrium by interlocking forged-steel bars, with the weight of the stones literally torquing the steel together. Gravity becomes the energy—or “glue”—that holds the sculpture without welding, creating what I think of as a “static energy event”—a sculpture held in arrested motion.
The title Torque describes both the twisting force within the sculpture and the action responsible for its assembly. The natural mass and quarry marks of the granite are left intact, while the forged steel traces and makes visible the forces acting between the stones. In this sense, the work is deliberately self-referential—sculpture about sculpture, assemblage about assemblage—with the act of holding its materials together becoming both its structure and its subject.
Note: the blocky piece of granite used here was recycled from “Stonealope” (S-77-09)
January 1981. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 28 × 54 × 22 in (71 × 137 × 56 cm).
Private collection - New York
Torque VI is part of my tensegrity, or Brute Series, in which gravity, weight, tension, and compression become active sculptural forces. Two rough granite forms are held in equilibrium by interlocking forged-steel bars, with the weight of the stones literally torquing the steel together. Gravity becomes the energy—or “glue”—that holds the sculpture without welding, creating what I think of as a “static energy event”—a sculpture held in arrested motion.
The title Torque describes both the twisting force within the sculpture and the action responsible for its assembly. The natural mass and quarry marks of the granite are left intact, while the forged steel traces and makes visible the forces acting between the stones. In this sense, the work is deliberately self-referential—sculpture about sculpture, assemblage about assemblage—with the act of holding its materials together becoming both its structure and its subject.
January 1990. Granite, steel. Dimensions: 22 × 30 × 15 in (56 × 76 × 38 cm).
Collection: Ringling Museum of Art, Sarasota, FL. Gift of Murray Bring and Kate Delaney Bring