'If I had a face like yours I'd teach my arse to talk!' I'm sure that men of a certain age go all misty-eyed at the memory of using that sublime schoolboy put-down which once rang out in playgrounds the length and breadth of the land. But let's just take a moment to imagine that arses really could talk. You can bet your bottom dollar they'd have something interesting to say.
For centuries sculptors have been students of the arse; striving to capture its beauty in every conceivable material: from bronze to papier-mâché, plasticine to clay. Indeed only when a sculptor has succeeded in recreating these wondrous wobble-cushions can he feel he's truly arrived. Is it any wonder our great universities are called 'seats' of learning?
They say that all great artists start at the bottom - so let's languish here awhile, pour ourselves a large glass of absinthe and, letting the spirit take
hold, swoon over a ripe peach or two.
The Arses
The Arse of the Deep(Bottom of the Sea)
Title: Aphrodite Statue / Bulbous Betty (1952)
Medium: Stone
Sculptor: Allan Howe
Location: Richmond Terrace Gardens, London
We have World War II to thank for this gorgeous example of a lavishly-proportioned arse, expertly rendered in Portland stone. Its position in Richmond Terrace Gardens was previously occupied by a more sober cast-iron fountain which was removed as part of the war effort. And what better way to raise people's spirits after the war and stimulate patriotic fervour than to depict a voluptuous vixen in the altogether mounting a dolphin? Britannia really does rule the waves! But this is no innocent ride on a water taxi as these are waves of ecstasy rather than those of the sea. Her official title is Aphrodite, who was the Greek goddess of love, pleasure and procreation; attributes that the sculptor has unashamedly suggested in the dolphin's phallic appearance and position between her legs. On her unveiling in 1952 not everyone appreciated this six foot beauty. The statue caused uproar amongst the prudish, unenlightened public and she was mockingly re-christened Bulbous Betty, a nickname that has stuck.
The Bear BumTitle: Boy With Bear Cubs (1902)
Medium: Bronze
Sculptor: John Macallen Swan
Location: Holland Park, London
It would take a supreme effort of will to accept that the sculptor was unaware of the cheeky visual pun he had created with this unique piece of public art. It certainly shows a mischievous sense of humour. Beyond the playfulness there is an obvious tension to the piece: the boy would need to be either very brave or very stupid to willingly expose his buttocks, let alone his entire naked body, to the grizzly impulses of two wild and possibly ravenous bear cubs. I hope for his sake that the wide bowl which he is precariously balancing on his hip and is being excitedly nosed by the bear straining on its haunches contains some food. If it doesn't, they will inevitably go for the next best option. However, being snacked on by bear cubs pales into insignificance when compared to the terrifying prospect of having their protective mother rip out your internal organs.
The Arse in FlightTitle: Girl and the Swan (1984)
Medium: Bronze
Sculptor: Lorne McKean
Location: King's Road, Reading, Berkshire
Guest critic Danny de Gere (Gentlemen's club impresario and amateur meteorologist):
Although Reading isn't known for its strong winds, this dramatic sculpture outside my local gym cleverly captures the instant before a tornado lifts a young girl clean off the ground and the moment after it has ripped off all of her clothes. Reaching up, she watches helplessly as her last remaining garment is sucked into the swirling vortex above, never to be seen again. Meanwhile a passing swan, oblivious to the danger ahead and wardrobe catastrophe below, flies serenely into the deadly heart of the tornado. There are many awe-inspiring sights in nature: from 1.7 million wilderbeest moving as one during their annual migration across the vast plains of the Serengeti, to giant condors riding the thermals high in the Andes mountains. However, these are nothing when set against the divine vision of a nubile arse in flight. The sculptor is keen to show this (hence his juxtaposition of an unfeathered nymphet and a swan) and has worked a kind of magic in recreating this natural wonder for us all to enjoy.
An alternative reading by guest critic The Rt Revd Humphrey Pibworth:
Standing one-legged on tiptoe with her arm stretched upwards and fingers spread wide, the girl appears as though she could be about to pluck a fruit from the overhanging branch of a tree. While the swan flying overhead traditionally symbolises beauty and grace, she was also sacred to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, pleasure and procreation, and her elongated neck could just as easily be a serpent. Could this birthday-suited babe be Eve, blindly walking into the bosom of Beelzebub; ignorant of the storm that would follow? May the grace of God deliver you, wretched reader, from this world of sin.
The Cheeky Drum RollTitle: The Drummer (2011)
Medium: Bronze using Cornish tin and copper
Sculptor: Tim Shaw
Location: Lemon Quay, Truro, Cornwall
The Drummer was commissioned by Cornwall Council and installed on Lemon Quay in Truro, the county's capital, in 2011. Weighing at around one to two tonnes, the work towers 15 feet above the ground at its height, with the drummer perched precariously on something that both Miley Cyrus and those less intimately acquainted with demolition equipment might see as a giant wrecking ball. However, the sculptor Tim Shaw has said that the ball was inspired by Lemon Quay's pedestrianised paving design featuring concentric rings which reflect the rippling tidal river flowing beneath it. The drummer, like Miley in her pop video, is completely naked, but in contrast to the saucy songstress stands on top of rather than straddles his ball while banging his instrument. The latter, which features an emblem that refers to Truro's history as a stannary town, where tin was weighed, stamped and sold, has no visible strap and appears to be glued to the drummer's left thigh in a position that fails to preserve his modesty. His nakedness, which Shaw believes gives the work a timeless quality, has not been appreciated by everyone however; with one local resident demanding he "put a sock on his ding dong." Fortunately the flaccidity of the offending member has precluded this censorship, and when I last visited him, a small pink glove had instead been placed on his erect drumstick. When the nearby theatre and music venue Hall for Cornwall began its three year renovation in 2018, the sculpture was temporarily moved to the Eden Project; a perfect alternative location (if you believe Reverend Pibworth) for Reading's Girl and the Swan above. Shaw has said that the sculpture represents Cornwall's unique identity "as a place where the drum beats differently." If that is the case, then let us hope it is to the tune of Trelawny (Cornwall's National Anthem) rather than Miley's Wrecking Ball!
Afterword
On one occasion while visiting Truro, I experienced a disturbing vision. This was possibly induced by the presence in my bloodstream of several of Cornwall's finest gins. Staggering across Lemon Quay, I jerked to a stop as what I took to be a loud drum struck up a regular rhythm behind me. This was immediately followed by a continuous low rumble. I swung around and saw that the noises were coming from The Drummer who, having seemingly released himself from his frozen pose, was furiously banging his instrument while using the backwards motion of his walking feet to propel his ball forwards. Efficiently flattening all of the seagulls in his path, the percussionist skillfully manoeuvred the ball around a pasty stall, then rapidly rolled it towards a man obliviously tucking into a fruit scone spread with cream; jam on top. As I was already feeling rather queasy and unable to stomach the sight of someone endure the same fate as the seagulls, I screwed my eyes shut. Opening them again a moment later amid a torrent of drum-accompanied screams from fleeing shoppers, I dropped my hip flask and ran as fast as I could to the Bus Station.
The Wrestler's WedgieTitle: Milo of Croton (19th Century)
Medium: Bronze
Sculptor: Unknown
Location: Holland Park, London
Although my title suggests an eye-watering between-the-buttocks yank of the underpants which a wrestler might perform in order to break the will of an opponent, the story of this sculpture actually concerns a more conventional wedge. Milo of Croton (a 6th-century BC Greek settlement in southern Italy) was a legendary Olympic wrestler renowned for his great strength. It is said that when he found an oak tree partly split open with a wedge, he tried to pull it apart. However, this caused the wedge to fall out and the tree to trap his hands. The sculpture shows the instant before the oak snaps shut. Ultimately Milo found it impossible to release himself from the oak's grip, and the great champion ended up being torn apart by wild beasts who enjoyed an unexpected meal. Given a choice, I have a strong suspicion that he would have preferred a wedgie.
The Wet BottomsTitle: Joy of Life Fountain (1963)
Medium: Bronze
Designer: T. B. Huxley-Jones
Location: Hyde Park, London
Ever since 1963, whenever you take a stroll around Hyde Park you are quite likely to be confronted with the sight of a naked couple with their arms around each other. Even more arresting is the fact that they appear to be suspended in mid air; dancing above jets of water shooting up from a large fountain. No, someone hasn't slipped LSD into your morning espresso - you have actually found the Joy of Life Fountain. It stands next to the Aldford Street North Gate, and was designed by T.B. Huxley-Jones when Park Lane was widened. This part of Hyde Park used to be a much-loved sunken garden which was planted by the Victorians in the 1860s. Before that it was a reservoir which supplied the royal palaces with drinking water. The fountain celebrates the pure joy of life itself; water being its source, emphasized by the four young children emerging from the pool. As for the couple, their posture seems to mimic the dance moves of Rock 'n Roll, while the man is sporting what looks suspiciously like a Beatles' bowl cut; their debut single Love Me Do having been released in 1962, the year before the fountain was installed. I don't think I need to say anything about the arses. Just look - they are a joy to behold!
The Wellington BootyTitle: Achilles (1822)
Medium: Bronze
Sculptor: Sir Richard Westmacott
Location: Hyde Park, London
Flaunting cheeks as proud as two Anglo-Saxon burial mounds, this colossus has an arse to be reckoned with. Standing 18ft high, this statue of Achilles, the mythical Greek hero of the Trojan War, commemorates the soldier and politician Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington (1769-1852). Located near the Queen Elizabeth Gate at Hyde Park Corner, a stone's throw from Wellington's London residence, Apsley House, it was installed by order of King George III (the mad one). Achilles was in fact the first statue to be erected in the Park and was commissioned by a breast-beating band of privileged upper class women known as the Ladies of England (a more elitist, passionately jingoistic precursor to the WI; more likely to be caught throttling Frenchmen with their pearl necklaces than making jam for church fetes). Rather than using the far more fitting medium of iron (Wellington was mockingly dubbed the 'Iron Duke' for his political intractability), the sculptor, Richard Westmacott, in an unashamed gesture of triumphalism, used 33 tonnes of bronze taken from cannons captured during the Duke's campaigns in France. While the body of the statue was modelled on a Roman figure, the head of Achilles was based on Wellington himself. Today the idea of elevating a public figure, albeit a beloved war hero, to the level of a mythical Greek warrior seems preposterous. However, when you consider that the Duke was still alive when the statue was unveiled in 1822 (he would soldier on for another 30 years), aggrandizement on this scale doesn't require satire, and must have left the political cartoonists of the time scratching their heads. Knowing that Wellington's townhouse is just a few minutes' walk from this enormous statue whose head bears his image, you begin to understand why he remained so supremely confident in his beliefs and position in the face of personal and political scorn. The unrealistic legend which the public had once held him to be had swollen his ego and clouded his judgement. The statue had originally been completely naked. However, this generated so much moral outrage that a small fig leaf was swiftly added to obscure the offending porridge cannon. Although having seemingly escaped the notice of the Georgians, including the Duke himself, there is a rather unfortunate irony over the choice of this particular Greek hero to represent the man lauded for defeating the French at Waterloo. As anyone familiar with the myths will know, Achilles was slain by Paris!
One Tail Too FewTitle: The Folkestone Mermaid (2011)
Medium: Bronze on a granite boulder
Sculptor: Cornelia Parker
Location: Folkestone, Kent
Although it is undeniable that Cornelia Parker's mermaid has an ample tail, it is not the kind likely to propel her very far through the water. This siren has clearly spent too much time on land wailing sea shanties from her rock, as in the place where a long scaly appendage should be, two legs have sprouted; the seaweed draped around her feet and forming part of her hair the only indication of her life beneath the waves. Commissioned to produce a piece of public art for the Folkestone Triennial, Parker decided to create a version of Hans Christian Andersens's Little Mermaid. Moving away from Edvard Eriksen's more idealised Copenhagen statue, which he modelled on ballerina Ellen Price in 1909, Parker chose to use an ordinary Folkestone resident for her sculpture. Looking for a woman who embodied free spirit, she found mother-of-two Georgina Baker. After casting her in bronze, Parker placed the sculpture on a granite boulder as Eriksen had done with his mermaid, then positioned her overlooking Folkestone's harbour gazing out towards the English Channel. Parker has said that she hopes the mermaid's location will encourage people to think about endangered coastal populations and climate change. However, I'm afraid that without that tail some will see her not as a mythical creature of the deep, but simply a landlubbing woman sitting starkers on a rock.
