"Herman Melville's cursed wanderers, Raymond Chandler's tough guys, and Walt Whitman's solitary individualists"—that's how one art critic described H. C. Westermann's person and works, a description that captures his work as well as his biography. An artist whose puns were as tight as his craftmanship, Westermann had a far-reaching influence in his own time.
In 2002, the Hirshhorn Museum showed a retrospective of the work of H. C. Westermann, one of the largest shows since his 1978 retrospective at the Whitney Museum. Antiques and the Arts Online delivered a thorough review of that Hirshhorn show, noting Westermann's love of irony and his acute and often cutting social commentary. Westermann sometimes engaged other artists by puns and allusions. The article describes one such piece:
Antimobile (1965), a solid, superbly crafted steering wheel made of Douglas fir marine plywood, reflects Westermann's concern that cars were taking over the American landscape. It is also an homage to another Nutmeg State sculptor, Alexander Calder, whose light, moveable mobiles contrasted with this heavy, immovable piece.
His humor influenced contemporary artists (indeed, Antimobile seems like the kind of joke Bruce Nauman would tell).
Westermann's Table, a piece acquired within the last several years by SAAM, has a more sinister edge to it. It's a totemic stack of painstakingly crafted antique books, which are painted over and bolted to the table. The books are about state law and the manufacture of clippers (i.e., ships), referencing the artist's deep disapprobation of war and of the conduct of the government. (Westermann was a veteran of World War II and Korea.) On a second level, the piece also touches on his own work and how he perceived art history: Westermann made dark "death ships" and was not too taken with the notion of an art history canon. Glossed over and bolted to the table, his works' relationship with the canon was one that Westermann perceived as fraught and problematic.
