By Danielle Zyp

There’s an oft-posed question about the abstract metal sculptures that U of A fine arts students have been producing for nigh on 30 years: “What’s the difference between this sculpture and what already lies in the scrap-metal yard?”

Graduate students Ryan McCourt and Andrew French address that attitude head-on. “It’s a slow process to understand someone’s Master’s thesis,” says French. “If you were to open up a written thesis by a physical engineer, you might need to look up a few words in the dictionary and read it slowly.”

“It’s not like flipping open the comics in the paper,” adds McCourt. “People need to take the time to stand and look at it,” concluded French.

French’s thesis is the culmination of two years’ worth of daily work. Weighing in at well over one tonne and standing five metres high, Column or Pillar (he hasn’t decided on the name yet) is a statement about the artist’s commitment to solid foundations and hard work, as well as an expression of reverence toward an ancient yet enduring architectural symbol.

Narcotic art

It stands in sharp contrast to the more intimately scaled work of McCourt. His smallest piece, Rapture of the Deep, is the product of the kind of artistic frenzy that doesn’t occur every day. Late one night, juiced up by the constant charge of creativity and euphoric from lack of sleep (a condition he likens to nitrogen narcosis, which deep-sea divers experience), McCourt and another student welded together this sculpture in a one hour surge of energy. With each element fitting precisely and elegantly together, the piece seemed to appear like magic.

Although both men were heavily influenced by Professor Peter Hide, McCourt and French followed divergent paths in their approach to sculpture. McCourt, who studied at the U of A as an undergraduate, departed from the spontaneous, hands-on method of creation the school encouraged and began to plan out his creations in advance. His beautifully appointed sculptures, often based on musical instruments, sing his intentions: “I want my sculpture to be approachable and people-oriented.”

Pardon my French

French, by contrast, graduated from the Kent Institute of Art and Design in England and slowly moved away from the linear, symmetrical, plotted-out designs he used to create, and began making most of his decisions as the project grew, responding on the spot to found objects and colour combinations. In Still Life, he applies colour boldly, carefully aging the paint so the piece gains an autonomous feel. “I’ve struggled with colour,” he says. “I often add colour when it’s half-finished and then continue to weld on top of the paint.”

Struggling with colour, composition, texture, value, scale, concepts and the process of creation–that s only part of what an artist does. Add the level of hard work and pure energy that goes into these metal constructions, and there’s no question that the finished product amounts to much more than scrap metal.