George Segal Leaves a Legacy of Sculpture - Brief Article - Obituary

SOUTH BRUNSWICK, N.J.--On June 9, pop sculpture legend George Segal died of cancer at his home in South Brunswick, N.J. He was 75 years old and is survived by his wife of 54 years, Helen Segal, as well as daughter, Rena; son, Jeffrey; and brother, Morris.

Part Norman Rockwell, part Andy Warhol, Segal's work has been tossed in to every category from American realism and pop art to social expressionism and figurative sculpture. Despite the critics' categorical wavering, their approval has remained steadfast and their reviews continue to say one thing: Segal's sculptures resound with subtle genius.

An impressive summation of an artist who, after several fruitless gallery shows during the early `50s, had resigned his art to a hobby, and himself to a lifetime of teaching. Only if you haven't seen his work. Strangely enough, however, Segal's early work focused on painting. It wasn't until 1958, at his farm in South Brunswick, that Segal's need to move from what he called "pictorial space to real space" inspired him to set down his brushes and delve into chicken wire and plaster.

As rumor tells it, a student of the artist deserves credit for helping form the cornerstone of Segal's sculpture evolution: The eager pupil supplied Segal with his first load of medical scrim--the "medium" used to make casts for broken bones. Segal immediately went to work, using himself as the subject while his wife wrapped him in plaster-soaked gauze. The result? "Man at a Table."

That early piece provided the catalyst for what would eventually become Segal's standard: "the presence of man in his daily life." He placed his figures in and around assembled environments--places like subway cars, butcher shop windows or brick walls--and paired them with real life props--chairs, tables, pinball machines, etc.--to create a sense of everyday normalcy. "Walk, Don't Walk" depicted pedestrians waiting to cross the street; "The Diner" featured a man merely ordering a cup of coffee from a waitress.

Steeping his sculptures in reality didn't always guarantee a reflection of normalcy. Segal moved into the politics of contemporary life as well. His famed "In Memory of May 4, 1970, Kent State: Abraham and Isaac" stands somberly on the campus of Princeton University.

The same cannot be said for his "Gay Liberation," a commemoration of the Stonewall riots that sits in Greenwich Village's Christopher Park. The sculpture--two woman sitting on a park bench, two men standing in front, both couples in a pose of understated intimacy--caused controversy among non-gays, as well as gays who stated they were angry the gay community was not consulted about the sculpture and uncomfortable with the fact it was created by a heterosexual man.

A cast of the sculpture, installed on and off since 1984 on Stanford University's campus, has also faced its share of ire. It suffered a beating by hammer in `84; the spit of a spray-can vandal who painted "AIDS" across the statue's male couple in `87; and a park bench battering and paint job by the school's quarterback and outside linebacker, among others in `94.

Segal, for his part, took the wrath in stride. He continued to sculpt in his backyard chicken coop for the rest of his days, intent on capturing the spirit of every man and relinquishing his to none. It seems he's succeeded.

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