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Hog wild >> Cédric Loth explores the manifold meanings of motorcycle culture
by KEITH MARCHAND "Thirty mean-looking motorbikes straddled and impelled by thirty dirty mean-looking Apostles with enough sleazy wind-whipped mamas riding pillion to go round... Every one of them stoned out of his righteous mind, higher than the white clouds way up in the glazing, baking sky... And they're riding easy through the wind, fiercely grinning, snapping citizen minds like fragile twigs, and fit to snuff themselves out forever on the crucifixion of the law." --Alex Stuart, The Bikers (1971).
And despite the fact that most Harleys these days are straddled by plump accountants trying to look menacing on weekends, there remains a fascination with big, dangerous men who have names like Mom and Lenny the Thrush. Cédric Loth has spent the last three years examining the culture and characters surrounding Hogs. Originally from France, he has used skills learned as an artist for Metal Hurlant (the original version of Heavy Metal magazine) to capture what motorcycling means to him. Through sculpture, Loth depicts large, greasy and lovable characters who straddle big nasty/beautiful machines. Each rider is caught frozen in a moment in time. And through the leather and machinery, there is an undeniable elegance. The exhibition comprises six largish sculptures that depict individual scenes of a motley band of bikers. One couple glides along effortlessly astride a Harley, leaning back on a near-impossible angle. Perched atop the back fender, her cartoonishly large breasts (I did mention Heavy Metal) form the perfect cushion for the cigar-smoking pilot's head. The proportions of the bike and riders are purposely stretched. The couple fit the bike perfectly; both are low-slung and deliberate. Another character flips over the handlebars of his bike. One boot is missing as he hurls violently through space. His bent and twisted front wheel tells us that we have caught him well into his fall. He is on his second or third tumble and things are looking grim for both rider and mount. But despite the carnage, the piece possesses an almost graceful quality. The proportions and the massing are handled in a way that makes more references to classical sculpture than to modern comic books. Loth intends all of his sculptures to eventually be cast in bronze. And while only one bronze will be on display at the show, it's easy to see how the rest will work once cast in that most heroic of alloys. The bikers portrayed in the exhibition share similarities with the Wild West sculptures of Frederic Remington. Both portray a stylized and distilled image of the last free men of the time. Remington captured romantic visions of cowboys and native Americans; Cédric Loth focuses instead on the most beloved and reviled segment of fringe society.
Cédric Loth from May 1323 at Galerie Harrison, World Trade Centre, 383 St-Jacque- |
These words, taken from one of my favourite "bikesploitation" books of the early '70s, sum up just about every cliché regarding the motorcycle enthusiast. From Hunter S. Thompson to Madison Avenue, bikers have been depicted as scofflaws and daredevils. Their culture: the last vestige of freedom in this antiseptic land. The biker is depicted as a sort of shaman astride an iron horse, living by a set of rules that would make a Viking squirm.