Female figure c. early 20th century

These two tall, thin, wooden sculptures of female figures were made by Tsogo people, and now live at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. The pale, ghostly bodies are roughly hewn, you can almost see the marks left by the carver's tools. There's such a vulnerability to the surface, as if the artist was less concerned with perfection, more with the act of making, a kind of directness that's so refreshing. Look at the shapes, how the volumes of the breasts and the curve of the legs are simplified. There is an awkwardness to the gesture of the figure on the right. Her hand covers her chest in a way that makes the whole figure seem caught off guard, as if she has just noticed us looking at her. These figures remind me a little of Giacometti's sculptures, or even some of Louise Bourgeois's totemic figures. But really, these sculptures have their own unique language. They embrace the raw, imperfect beauty of the human form. In art, it's often the unexpected details, the imperfections, that make a piece truly sing.