My grandfather, the sculptor and engineer
GORDON WILLIAM ALLEN
The Labour unionist
My grandfather, Gordon William Allen, was an interesting fellow. He was a lover of the arts and later in years was himself a sculptor living and working in St. Ives, Cornwall. Had World War II not interrupted him, I think he would have been a sculptor from a young age. Instead, he joined the Navy and played his part during the war.
He was an ardent Labour man and after the war he worked as an engineer for Vickers, becoming heavily involved in the Trade Unions. He caused trouble for himself and his family - employers didn’t want a troublemaker on their books. In truth, he held socialist and communist views but most likely had to be careful airing such opinions in post-war Britain.
He softened a little later in life (according to my father), but even in my late twenties, my grandfather handed me the ‘little red book’ and told me to read every page thoroughly!
Grandfather and I, 1982.
Rediscovery
I knew my grandfather had many friends, but after his death, I was overwhelmed by the number of people that attended his funeral whom I had never met. They respected him as a friend and artist... yet all I saw towards the end was a frail old man in a care home. I knew that age and a weary body didn’t define a person but that's what I'd come to know of him. Even when I'd say ‘My grandfather is a sculptor’, I rarely looked any deeper because I was just focused on his care.
I have always been aware and proud of his work and we had a great relationship. But towards the end of his life I realised I’d become detached from who he really was.
After he passed away, through his friends, photos, poetry and sculptures, I rediscovered Gordon William Allen.
My aunt Christine with her father at one of his exhibitions in the '60s
Education
Gordon Allen didn’t train as a sculptor in art school. As an engineer, he used his knowledge and became self-taught.
During the war, he was an engine room artificer so he could have been a fitter and turner, boilermaker, coppersmith or enginesmith. Although I don’t know what his exact duties were, he went on to utilise his metalwork skills as a sculptor later in life. He made abstract forms, often from metal and tin, and once even obtained metal from an old Concorde plane.
Gordon William Allen, 1946
Vapour trails
As a child, and indeed still to this day, my favourite of his sculptures were the ‘vapour trails’. A continuous form that swirled and looped around itself, the vapour trails that aeroplanes leave in the sky. They were made of a chicken wire structure, then covered in cement or plaster and sanded smooth. I make it sound far more simplistic than it was - these sculptures were often quite large, and creating the right shape and form was very important to the success of the final piece.
‘Vapour Trails’ sculpture
The development process
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Stage One
A wire frame is constructed from chicken wire. It is placed on top of a plinth that can be rotated to ensure the form evolves aesthetically, removing the concept of a front or back.
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STAGE two
The structure is covered roughly in layers of plaster until the basic form takes shape. Enough plaster must be added so that the wire does not protrude when it is sanded smooth.
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Stage Three
After many hours of sanding and reshaping the result is an amazingly smooth finish. The sculpture can be rotated on the spinning plinth and viewed from any angle.
Religion & reproduction
Although my grandfather wasn’t religious, the subject of the cross fascinated him and featured often in his work.
He was once commissioned to create a sculpture for a church in Liden which he made from metal. The three crosses represent the Holy Trinity and the Crucifixion, and the 10 discs represent the 10 commandments.
My grandfather also focused on the subject of reproduction and the male and female forms. I remember my awkward teenage self not being sure what to make of those!
My grandfather in front of St Timothy’s Church proudly displaying his abstract cross sculpture.
Relief sculpture depicting the ridiculous adulation of footballers
Abstract sculpture exploring the union of a man and a woman
A love of Cornwall
When my grandfather moved to Cornwall in the 1990s, my father set him up with a workshop at St. Erth station. It was full of heavy machinery and metalworking tools. Cornwall began to influence my grandfather’s work - in particular, the mining landscape. He saw the engine houses as sculptures in their own right and loved the angular shapes their frames created. He sympathised with the struggle of miners and would have shared very similar views with Socialist Arthur Scargill who led the National Union of Miners strike in the 1980s. On a less political note, mining gave my grandfather the very materials he used for some of his sculptures.
The Miner - a sculpture celebrating Cornish miners and acknowledging their struggles.
Gallery
Photos celebrating some of my grandfather’s work over the years.
The poet
Although he never considered himself a professional, my grandfather loved to write poetry. When he was in the care home and no longer strong enough to wield sculpture tools, he would hold a wobbly biro in his hand and write in his 'Little Book of Madness'. I never really paid it much attention at that time, but now when I read it, I realise it was his way of coping with old age.
Below is a poem I discovered amongst his belongings that I particularly admire. I see it as an honest look at how love can change within a relationship. It is quite melancholy, but beautiful nonetheless.
An engineer looks at love
Love is like a piece of steel
Ore from the bowels of the earth
To the furnace of life
It glows red hot
Only to solidify into pig iron
Resurrected with the heat of love
It glows red again
Then cools into a grey mass
To be heated again
It glows red, orange and yellow
To be rolled into a long grey bar
Then, like love it is machined
Ground, polished until it becomes useful
For motor cars, knife, fork and spoons
To feed your love
You can cut with it
You can put it in a drawer
And forget it
Then you remember
But it is too late
Rust has set in
It crumbles into the dustbin of life
The earth takes it back with a kiss
Embracing life itself
A worm lies with it
Cold, waiting for warmth
Love may I hold your hand
G.W Allen 2005
The final exhibition
In later years my grandfather lived in St.Ives. His final exhibition was held in the Arts Club with good friends and fellow artists John Berryman and John Chambers.
He had struggled to submit as much artwork as he had hoped, due to ill health, but this did not stop him from poking fun at the indignity of old age. His sculpture ‘A very useful bottle' (a plastic urinal bottle with fresh flowers poking out from the top) drew many a smile from visitors who came to see his work.
His final exhibition came together beautifully and my grandfather was very happy.
My grandfather, John Berryman and I
'A very useful vase' by Gordon Allen
Gordon Allen through the hole of his final completed sculpture
My grandfather's final completed sculpture
‘You should never be bored' my grandfather always told me. He had an insatiable desire to create art up to the end, even when his body would not allow it. I now understand that feeling - the need to keep creating and never wanting to stop. That sense of achievement, that excitement of an idea coming to fruition, sharing it with others. I never made that link between us when he was alive, but rediscovering my grandfather has let me understand the similarities between us and helped me remember who he was.
My grandfather passed away before he had the chance to finish his final work. It was a sculpture meant for me and now it sits proudly on my window sill, almost complete. I am in two minds as to whether I should try and risk attempting to finish it myself. Maybe the beauty lies in the fact that it remains unfinished, just like my grandfather.
Even with his 88 years of life, Gordon William Allen ran out of time to create all the things that he wanted to do.
He was the unfinished sculptor.
The unfinished sculptor
The Unfinished Sculpture, 2013
Painting shows my grandfather at in his armchair flanked by one of his sculptures. He commissioned it from his talented artist and friend, Nicola Clark (circa 2010).
