The Doll 1936

Here at the Tate Modern is Hans Bellmer’s ‘The Doll.’ This is a sculpture that is an accumulation of parts. There’s a sense of the artist building and rebuilding, always layering, always changing. It’s an odd, fleshy thing, isn’t it? The surface has this matte, sort of bone-like quality, but also an undeniably organic feel. Look at how Bellmer joins these bulbous forms together; sometimes it’s smooth, almost seamless, and other times you get this squeezed, pinched effect. It’s in these areas, where the parts come together, that the sculpture really comes alive. It becomes about the process of making and remaking, of squeezing and pushing. There's something almost obsessive about the repeated forms, the way they bulge and press against each other. It reminds me a little of Philip Guston's late work, especially in the way he used those lumpy, cartoonish shapes to explore really dark, complex ideas. But where Guston used paint, Bellmer used form itself to create this sense of unease and ambiguity. Ultimately, it remains an open question.