Sleeping Calf 1944

Here's a sandy-colored sculpture by Grace H. Turnbull called Sleeping Calf. I’m thinking about the process of carving, chipping away, and refining the stone to reveal this gentle form. It's like the sculptor is searching for the calf within the stone, slowly releasing it from its rocky slumber. The texture is rough, retaining the mark of the artist’s hand. It’s not idealized, but instead, the texture has a kind of tactile realness. You want to reach out and touch it, to feel that connection between the hand of the artist and the final form. I wonder what Grace was thinking as she made this, did she have any calves of her own? Did she encounter a sleeping calf in a field somewhere? The sculptor's attention to the calf’s vulnerability and innocence invites us to contemplate the simplicity and beauty of the natural world. It feels linked to Turnbull’s other figurative works, which aim to capture the essence of life through direct engagement with material. We artists are always in conversation, you know, finding inspiration in each other's work. Turnbull’s calf embraces ambiguity and uncertainty, allowing for multiple interpretations and meanings.