Barry X Ball: The Shape of Time
Barry X Ball
Silvia Baldereschi – How do advanced technologies such as 3D scanning interact with highly manual processes and experimental materials in your practice, and how has this relationship evolved over time?
Barry X Ball – I consider myself a conceptual artist; my work originates from ideas. The techniques I employ are unconventional and often attract attention, but I see my practice as a synthesis of tradition and advanced technology culminating in a sculptural object. Ultimately, the processes should recede, leaving the viewer to encounter a sculpture grounded in a conceptual lineage that spans millennia.
I often receive criticism, particularly online, from those who see the robotic technologies in my studio and interpret them as signalling “the death of art”. Such reactions usually reflect a misunderstanding of both process and history. Figures such as Michelangelo were innovators in their own time, and this tradition of innovation continues through artists like Canova. Even earlier, the Egyptians developed sophisticated measurement systems for sculpture that, in some respects, anticipate digital methodologies.
The real shift in my work is both technological and conceptual, shaping how I conceive and realise ideas. Technology enables outcomes that would be extremely difficult to achieve through traditional methods alone. However, it does not simplify the process. On the contrary, the combination of digital systems and extensive handwork often makes it more time-consuming.
Many works involve thousands of hours of manual labour alongside prolonged digital development. For instance, “Ritratto di Giovanni Paolo II” required twelve years to complete, and several other sculptures in the exhibition represent similarly extended periods of production. Criticism from so-called neo-traditionalists often rests on the misconception that the work is mechanically produced, whereas in reality it demands considerable time, skill, and sustained engagement.
SB – How does the reinterpretation of historical works through new technologies affect your understanding of their makers and meanings, and what do you bring to these works that is new?
BXB – I undertake a close study of each work I engage with; I am not interested in evoking a generalised idea of the past. For example, before developing my “Pietà”, I spent considerable time studying Michelangelo’s “Pietà Rondanini”. The alterations I introduced are deliberate, intended to shift the connotations and meanings of the original.
Rather than staging direct confrontations with historical settings, my approach has involved working within sites such as Ca’ Rezzonico in Venice, the Cappella Sansevero in Naples, and San Giorgio. In each case, I seek to understand the architecture, its intentions, and its artistic context.
Digital scanning and reinterpretation require a deep immersion in the logic of the original makers and their environment. This process can reveal aspects not readily visible. For instance, Michelangelo’s Pietà in St Peter’s Basilica forms a perfect oval when viewed from above – something not apparent from a frontal perspective. Such structural insights become accessible through digital means.
Working in institutions such as the Musée du Louvre or the Castello Sforzesco has been, for me, an immersive and almost meditative experience. I aim to remain respectful of these works while extending them through new material, surface, and formal investigations.
In some cases, this involves significant transformation. In my “Saint Bartholomew” sculptures, derived from the “San Bartolomeo Scorticato” in the Duomo di Milano, the body is removed, leaving only the skin, as if the figure had ascended. This marks a shift in both structure and meaning.
The conceptual origin of this work was technical rather than theological: to remove mass from stone sculpture. Traditionally defined by carving a solid block, I sought instead to produce forms that are open, permeable, and structurally complex, almost lace-like in space.
This inquiry also relates to the historical use of supports in sculpture, developed to address the limitations of stone. I aim to extend those limits, testing how far the material can be pushed without failure.
More broadly, my work is informed by modernist and conceptual traditions. Figures such as Marcel Duchamp, Donald Judd, Richard Serra, and James Turrell are important references. While the forms may appear classical, the underlying approach is rooted in conceptual and reductive thinking. I hope the viewer moves beyond surface appearance to engage with this conceptual structure.
SB – In relation to the conceptual framework of your practice, I am reminded of Walter Benjamin and his essay “The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”, particularly his notion of the “aura” of the artwork. Do you see continuity between the aura of the original and your works, or do you consider them entirely new entities?
BXB – I would say both. I want my works to remain connected to the original and retain its presence, while also extending it in new directions.
A useful point of reference is Janson’s “History of Art”, which begins from the premise that, in a sense, there is “nothing new” in art. Similarly, George Kubler in “The Shape of Time” suggests that formal possibilities are limited and recur in different configurations across history.
Art history offers many examples: Albrecht Dürer reworking earlier models, Pablo Picasso engaging with Diego Velázquez, or Édouard Manet echoing classical compositions in Le “Déjeuner sur l’herbe”. Absolute originality becomes difficult to sustain; what remains possible is recombination and rearticulation.
For this reason, a deep knowledge of art history is essential. A work such as Deposition by Pontormo demonstrates a level of formal and emotional complexity achieved centuries ago. It sets a standard that contemporary artists must confront.
My ambition is therefore to extend and, where possible, surpass earlier achievements while remaining grounded in their tradition. The tools available today – digital scanning, robotics, laser and diamond cutting – allow for new possibilities, but the challenge lies in how they are used.
In that sense, my work operates within continuity rather than rupture. It is informed by a deep respect for the past, while seeking to push beyond it. Art, for me, has become a form of belief, and to exhibit in Venice remains a privilege that continues to inspire a sense of awe.
SB – You are exhibiting in the Abbazia di San Giorgio Maggiore, a site deeply layered with historical and religious meaning. How do you approach the encounter between different cultural and spiritual traditions – such as the presence of Buddhist figures within a Christian basilica?
BXB – I feel very fortunate to have been allowed, for the first time, to present Buddhist works within a Catholic church, in this case within the sacristy – a transitional space associated with preparation and transformation. I am grateful to the Benedictine community for enabling this.
The exhibition seeks to establish an ecumenical dimension. The central work, the portrait of Giovanni Paolo II, incorporates references to the three Abrahamic religions – Islam, Judaism, and Christianity – reflecting the Pope’s own engagement with them. Introducing Buddhist elements extends this dialogue, adding another spiritual perspective and reinforcing the exhibition’s broader resonance.
This dialogue also includes references to other traditions, such as herm figures from antiquity, which combine multiple symbolic elements within a single form. In this way, the exhibition brings together Western and Eastern traditions, as well as different religious and cultural systems, within a sacred architectural context.
The space itself, designed by Andrea Palladio, is central to this encounter. Its clarity and formal restraint contrast with the more ornate Baroque context in which I have previously exhibited. Palladio’s architectural language, codified in “I quattro libri dell’architettura”, had a profound influence on both British and American civic architecture, notably through figures such as Thomas Jefferson.
To exhibit in such a setting situates the work within a broader historical and cultural continuum, extending beyond the present. It allows for a dialogue not only between traditions and beliefs, but also between past and present.
SB – Your project also resonates with a broader cultural dynamic: the reception of European classical heritage abroad, particularly in the United States, where it is often framed with great reverence. In this context, and in relation to the Benedictine mission to promote sacred art, was the exhibition commissioned within this framework?
BXB – Yes, by Carmelo Grasso, Director and Institutional Curator of Abbazia di San Giorgio Maggiore – ETS, who has played a central role in fostering dialogue between contemporary art and the Church. Around thirteen years ago, he initiated a Biennale programme that has included artists such as Michelangelo Pistoletto, Berlinde De Bruyckere, Ai Weiwei, and Anish Kapoor. I am honoured to be part of that lineage, whose aim is to re-establish a connection between contemporary art and the Church.
The project has also been supported by figures such as Laura Mattioli, reflecting a broader effort, including within parts of the Vatican, to renew this dialogue. I was invited to Rome by Pope Francis for a gathering of artists that included Maurizio Cattelan and Martin Scorsese. It was a striking occasion; the Pope simply remarked, “We believe in art”, a statement that resonated strongly in that setting.
The works presented here have been carefully considered within this context, with detailed discussions – including theological ones – regarding their placement and meaning. I have often been required to articulate my intentions clearly, resulting in a rigorous and constructive exchange.
My own background has informed this engagement. I was raised with a strong familiarity with biblical texts and have long been attentive to narrative and symbolic dimensions in art. The Catholic tradition, with its rich presence of saints, remains particularly significant to me.
Ultimately, my aim is to contribute to a space of reflection that is not bound to contemporary trends. Rather than aligning with a specific moment, I am concerned with questions of truth, beauty, and continuity, and with contributing – however modestly – to an enduring artistic tradition.
SB – Today, a deep familiarity with historical iconographic systems seems increasingly rare. Your work appears to reactivate these symbolic languages within a contemporary context. How do you position your practice in relation to this shift?
BXB – I would not want my work to be understood in narrowly religious terms; that would be misleading. I remain closely engaged with the contemporary art world, and my work is collected and discussed within that context on multiple levels.
At the same time, I am interested in maintaining a relationship with symbolic and iconographic traditions, not as something fixed, but as a language that can be reinterpreted. This often introduces a degree of ambiguity. For example, a recent portrait developed in collaboration with Michèle Lamy may evoke, in certain respects, a Madonna-like pose, while remaining open to other readings.
That work, created in dialogue with Michèle, forms part of an ongoing collaboration that will lead to a larger project at Palazzo Reale in Milano in 2028. Its presentation in Venice is still evolving, reflecting a degree of openness in how and where the work may be encountered.
This openness is important to me. I do not seek to fix meaning within a single interpretative framework, whether symbolic, religious, or otherwise. Rather, I am interested in creating works that remain active within the present, capable of sustaining multiple readings while still engaging with the depth and complexity of historical visual languages.
SB – Regarding the material dimension of your practice, how do you approach the selection of stone, and where do you source it from?
BXB – I personally select and purchase almost all of my stone. While I occasionally work with Carrara marble, I mainly utilize exotic, translucent, colored stones. I primarily source materials in the Versilia-Carrara area, which I consider a global centre for stone, where an extraordinary range of materials from around the world is available.
What has always struck me is that many contemporary sculptors continue to rely almost exclusively on Carrara white marble, which I find unnecessarily restrictive. From early on, I was drawn to a broader palette, including materials such as Rouge du Roi from Languedoc and translucent onyx from Iran, as well as stones sourced from places like Vietnam, Utah, and Mexico.
Over more than three decades, I have developed an integrated approach at my studio in Brooklyn, where I oversee the entire process – from design to the handling and carving of large-scale blocks – combining advanced technologies with skilled handwork. Despite working with a team, I remain directly involved in both the selection and cutting of the stone.
This proximity is essential. While the production of stone sculpture has long relied on specialised workshops – particularly in Carrara, where artists from Auguste Rodin to Henry Moore realised their works – I see my practice as rooted in a continuous, hands-on engagement with the material.
Rather than a process of delegation, it is an ongoing dialogue with the stone itself. What I learn through making directly informs each subsequent work, shaping a practice that remains materially and conceptually interconnected.
SB – Have you always worked with stone as your primary medium?
BXB – No, not at all. The exhibition includes an early work from 1982, which reflects a very different phase of my practice. At that time, I was strongly influenced by Italian painting of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, particularly artists such as Cimabue and Giotto. My works engaged directly with pictorial traditions, using wooden supports and wall-based formats rather than conventional sculpture.
I exhibited widely in Europe, and some works entered important collections, including that of Giuseppe Panza di Biumo, the subject of my “Pseudogroup” of Giuseppe Panza in this exhibition, who played a significant role in supporting my early career.
My shift towards stone came later, through an encounter with early computer-controlled carving technologies. Initially, my interest lay more in the technological possibilities than in the material itself, but that experience proved decisive, and stone gradually became central to my practice.
Since then, I have worked extensively with stone while remaining open to other materials when required. For example, the exhibition includes the portrait of “Pope John Paul II” in silver, developed over many years in collaboration with the Damiani craftsmen in Valenza. My practice has therefore evolved across different media, while maintaining a consistent conceptual approach.
SB – So there has always been a sustained research into materials across different media. Is there anything you would like to add in conclusion?
BXB – Yes, I would mention one final work, which has just been completed and is currently being shipped.
There is a tradition at San Giorgio Maggiore in which artists contribute a Contemporary illuminated manuscript for each exhibition, forming a growing archive over time. In this context, I proposed a different approach: a sculptural interpretation of a book.
I was granted access to scan the Lindau Gospels at the Morgan Library & Museum – a major illuminated manuscript with so-called “treasure binding” from the early medieval period, richly decorated with gold and jewels.
We digitally reconstructed the object in its entirety and translated it into sculptural form. The resulting work, realised in Golden Honeycomb calcite, will be installed on the altar of San Giorgio Maggiore. It introduces a new approach to surface and material translation, extending the logic of the original manuscript into three-dimensional space. It is both a technical and conceptual development, and it will ultimately become part of the church’s collection.
