Ray's sheds
Ray Exworth spent sixty years sculpting in seclusion with salvaged materials. In the article A sculptor of probable genius, David Heseltine describes a visit to Ray's sheds by the Arts Council in 1984:
… the Arts Council Purchasing Committee, visiting Cornwall, set off for the interior in search of an ‘irascible and difficult’ person who some said had abandoned his work altogether or dug it into the ground. They found what they described as ‘a smallish muscular person in a knitted fisherman’s cap’. John Spurling reports on this visit.
He had not buried his work, or only metaphorically. It was contained in seven different outhouses, a mass of plaster, wood, papier-mâché, wire and I don’t know what, modelled, carved and partly assembled to fill, like the visitors, every available cranny. In fact most of it was one work with a circus theme, or would be if it could ever be brought together into a sufficiently large space – a circus tent for example. We viewed it separately, in groups of two or three, with increasing amazement and admiration, crossing and re-crossing the yard, and learning from one another that there was yet another out house that we hadn’t seen, edging our way in and out of half open doors, past large, fragile plaster figures trying to exclude the two cats who weren’t supposed to enter in case they knocked something over.
These stories of dogged determination, creation for the sake of creation, intrigue me, no matter the field. Some ready examples: Lazarus Lake and his dastardly ultramarathons, Jerry Gretzinger and his eternal map, Justo Gallego Martínez and his cathedral, Nek Chand and the divine kingdom of Sukrani.