Thomas Doyle Sculpture Artist

Thomas Doyle's house sculptures are an intricate mix of hobby store modelling and bespoke cavernous pits and careful attention to detail that would shame a model train enthusiast. The figures in the works are modified, or 'converted' from store bought diorama fillers and have been subtly altered to change the feel of the piece. Doyle's own website is here and he has been Proteus Magazine's artist of the day here. What Doyle has created has been done before by sculptors such as William Christenberry, David Cole, and the amazing works of Takanori Aiba but what sets Doyle's apart, in my opinion, is his reserved approach. Details are subtle but well executed; flocked grass covers a face, almost as if by accident. These houses are not Aiba's colossi, or Christenberry's wooden mythologies, they are held back from that and to excellent effect. In Courier, the change of the ground angle by a small degree and the claustrophia of the trees pressing in on the house exagerates the lonlieness and unease of the solitary figure standing before the house. The figure may be approaching, or may be trying to get his balance. His one arm slightly outstretched looks almost as if he is reaching for a weapon; the human psyche playing tricks on him as it does on us and Doyle as a puppet master. If one were to be shrunk down and dropped inside one of these subtle hells, then one would be wishing for the end, unlike the seemingly oblivious occupants themselves. Doyle has taken a material, usually seen as something that modelling or wargaming enthusiasts would enjoy and made of them high art. There is something gratifying in that and I can recognise the dyed lichen and polystyrene and that makes it seem more approachable. This, however, is a trap of the mind. There is no way I could replicate this. I am too heavy handed, too beloved of colour and mythos. This belongs to a different sentimentality, one where less is more and then hung over the edge of a cliff. These works are beautiful and as far removed from toy trains as from a science lab. They are delicate, unworldly, timeless and stand on the backs of giants while heralding in another way of looking at art materials, inspiration and devastation. I would not want to live in Doyle's created world, but I do love these sculptures.