Jonathan Loxley

carve in marble because it is physical and dynamic. I feel it from the point of impact with a chisel, right down into my toes.

carve in marble because it is physical and dynamic. I feel it from the point of impact with a chisel, right down into my toes. For every swing of the hammer, my body is holding a position relative to that point of impact. Essentially, the marble dictates my every move – it demands I dance for it, and I appreciate that – desire it even.

The marble also takes me on a linear trip – I cannot go back. This forces me to be bold. I am in a Bootcamp that demands respect, discipline, stamina, forethought and final decisions – all the characteristics I felt I was, as a young man, in need of.

 

For as long as I can remember, I have been attracted to particular shapes and forms that I have grown to believe have inhabited the human psyche since we first came into existence – ancient fragments of a silent language that unconsciously evolved over hundreds of thousands of years. But the consequences of our own evolution have incidentally smothered this language.  It is only dormant, however, and can be encouraged to surface, reconnecting us when very little else can.

I am searching for these breadcrumbs, that lead, ultimately, to some faraway home, a place utterly absent of materialistic distraction – an ancient place where I can imagine someone picking up a burnt stick and with total inhibition, and a talent born of adoration and wonder alone, sketch out on the rock wall an antelope so exquisite we would later come to call it a masterpiece.

It may be as much an unreachable task as a donkey studying to become a horse, but the trip becomes more compelling with every step.

And so, It is my wish, and in fact, my job, to share my findings by manipulating the way light falls on stone – sculpture – a primal, silent language, and by way of that, attempt to place a finger on the part of someone they may have only suspected existed – to awaken a collective past – to re-unite them, if only for a moment, with a thankful world – a world we were once truly inseparable with.

 

Jonathan has exhibited across Europe, and his works can be found in collections around the world – from public parks and penthouse terraces in Hong Kong to more humble residential gardens in Europe and the United Kingdom.