Details of the Dispossessed The obsession with lifelike figures can be traced back toantiquity: the ancient Greeks painted their statues, to solid give solidpresence to what were idealized forms. With occasional exceptions, therepresentation of what was not part of a world of heroism, religion or fantasy,was limited to imagery of everyday encounters, such as we see in the Dutchpainting of the seventeenth century. Work, toil and deprivation only enter artaround the middle of the nineteenth century, and the associated movement inboth art and literature was named “Realism”. To those of the time, objectors tothis kind of art found it coarse and gratuitous, defying what they saw as thetruer aims of art, which was to project a better world. But to this day, thenotion of realism encompasses notions of honesty and unpretentiousness thatincludes the less privileged. One of the earliest exponents of hyperrealistsculpture, Duane Hanson, made figures from lower-middle America—a cleaner,overweight tourists, or a man down on his luck—which would all appeardiscordant within the gallery setting. With their blank expressions and intheir silence, Hanson’s figures were like intruders who are nonetheless unawareof their infraction. As a result, it is we that begin to feel uneasy, even oncewe adjust to the knowledge that the figure is just an inert facsimile—for ouruneasiness is at our immediate first impression. The work of Paul Trefry sits closely within the tradition thatHanson can be seen to founded. It is predicated upon the widespread inclinationto abstract from us what we find objectionable. It may be one thing to givedonations to a door-knocker, but it something very different to offer homelessperson a shower. Hence the expression, “cold as charity”. Our feelings ofcompassion are best kept in tact when out of proximity from those for whom thefeelings are supposed to be stirred. Horror and disgust are best kept atdistance and not experienced viscerally. We also feel sympathy for theloneliness of the elderly, but we recoil from experiencing it first hand, notleast because it reminds us of what could befall any of us. Trefry sculpts thehomeless, the aged, and the bewildered. A common thread to his work isvulnerability: of youth or old age, or of the caprice of fate. Key to his worksis frankness without condescension or melodrama. In his work we are facedsuddenly and unerringly with something that we instinctually avoid. In sodoing, Trefry faces us with our vulnerability. His work seeks to widen theambit of our empathy. Trefry avoids left-wing jingoism, and the work does notpreach. Rather it operates on a far simpler, human register. We will all feelapproach of time, and there will always be those, even if not seen, who live inunspeakable conditions. Trefry gives the less-than-visible the dignity of anasserted presence. —Adam Geczy
