Michael Stumpf: Imperfect Balance

Michael Stumpf’s temporary studio in the Glasgow suburb of Easterhouse is impressively large. He’s taken up residence here while he makes new work for his show at the Glasgow School of Art during Glasgow International this April. The space is in every way necessary. On the floor lie two large, partially-completed sculptures of the words 'NOW' and 'SING.' One of them alone could easily fill the average studio space; together they would make an unwieldy addition to most tenement flats.

Big, bold and red, the sculptures will form a single public artwork which will be on display outside the school for the duration of the exhibition. Perched on the balcony of the new Reid Building – recently completed as part of a redevelopment project – across from the Charles Rennie Mackintosh building on Renfrew Street, the sculpture will certainly be difficult to miss.

A response to the show’s title, This Song Belongs to Those Who Sing It, the sculpture asks viewers to 'NOW SING.' Is Stumpf asking that viewers in some way take possession of the new building – to take ownership of this recent addition to the city’s skyline?

“It’s not meant in a super political way but who, especially in the art school, does this belong to?” Stumpf asks. “It’s a very interesting topic, especially in the art world – taking things into your own hands.”

A graduate of the Glasgow School of Art, Stumpf is no stranger to the peculiarities of working in such a spectacular context and the importance – and inherent difficulties – of taking possession of such a hallowed space. “I always saw the Mackintosh Museum as an existing exhibition – it’s already exhibiting in an exhibition,” he explains. “And then also that whole aspect of studying in a museum or within an exhibit as a student, that interests me too.”

Born in Mannheim, Germany, Stumpf graduated from the Masters of Fine Art programme at the Glasgow School of Art in 2004. He has remained in the city ever since, exhibiting regularly in the UK and abroad.

There’s something unmistakably playful about Stumpf’s work. Often colourful, incorporating a variety of contrasting objects and materials, his sculptures are a source of humour and pathos. One standout piece, The Sound of Silver, includes a pair of denim-clad legs wearing tap shoes. But where the figure’s body should be there is instead a large, unwieldy rock. It has a simple comic premise – what sound would a tap-dancing rock make? – and the result – absurd and sad in equal measure – is distinctly pleasing.

Humour, Stumpf agrees, is an important aspect of his work. “It’s not like I’m looking for a punch-line, or something,” he explains. “It’s more subtle. I think a certain degree of self-consciousness is important. That is something I try and develop in the work. It introduces a certain kind of humour, and I think that in general it’s important that art has a certain humour...”

Going hand in hand with the work’s innate comicality is its underlying vulnerability. Despite a bold and bombastic appearance, his sculptures often belie a weakness – a weakness, he says, that is introduced in the process of making the works. He feels quite strongly that artworks should, where possible, in some way reveal their imperfections. This he claims is evident throughout the work of Charles Rennie Mackintosh, and particularly his famous art school building.

“It’s not just about strong positions,” he says. “That just wouldn’t reflect the world. It needs this balance. I think that’s what’s interesting about the Mackintosh building. In every aspect of it you can read a hand in it – you can read a hand that made these elements.”

For the month of April, Michael Stumpf will be making his mark on the Glasgow School of Art campus. We suggest you join him. Now sing.