Building a Mystery

| 13 Aug 2014 | 08:11

    The gray sculpture placed in the Chelsea gallery space is almost as tall as [Nathan Sawaya]. The artist considers the figure of the man, which includes a stiff, plastic version of his own tousled hair. Unlike Sawaya, however, it looks grave and depressing. It’s also made almost entirely out of Lego bricks. Faceless and zombie-like, the statue sports a suit and tie. Most surprising is the fact that a separate, red figure emerges from the gray sculpture’s belly, seeming to gasp for air.

    Much of what you need to know about 37-year-old Nathan Sawaya can be found in his Lego sculpture. He’s an artist who sculpts with the snappable toy blocks—which display his virtuosic building ability—but his pieces aren’t like the giant Lego Empire State Building at the FAO Schwartz store in Midtown. Instead, they are also emotional and psychological—made to provoke, not amuse.

    Sawaya originally made headlines seven years ago when he quit his lucrative job as a corporate lawyer to pursue his childhood obsession. Ever since then, he has struggled to be seen as more than a grown man who is good at building with Legos. Recently, he has started experiencing remarkable success as a legitimate artist.

    Sawaya has a touring show called the Art of the Brick that consistently sells out museums and other venues across the country. Some of his works have even sold for as much as $25,000. When he spoke at both the New York and San Diego Comic Con a few months ago, he was shocked to find the auditoriums flooded with fans. Art students stop by his Midtown studio to seek advice and learn about his work. For the past two weeks, he has also enjoyed another milestone: a fine art exhibit at the [Agora Gallery].

    “That’s my story,” Sawaya says, gesturing to the gray figure before continuing to tour his show. He says the current show, which is titled Red, is about repression and feeling trapped. Nearby the gray man sculpture is a giant gray fist covered with miniature black windows. Between its thumb and forefinger, a tiny red man struggles to push the fingers apart before they crush him. “It’s a giant corporate hand,” Sawaya explains.

    In another piece, a red figure holds together the sides of his head in agony as a crack splits the center of it. The show of Sawaya’s sculpture follows a narrative arc that builds in intensity. It climaxes when one passes the final wall to face an elongated, 8-foot red man pushing against the gallery’s ceiling. The show’s resolution is a smaller red figure calmly ascending skywards, finally free.

    The most common critique launched at Sawaya’s work is that Lego bricks have no place in fine art. People are often impressed by his skill, but still dismiss it as a mere novelty. The idea of Lego as a medium for respectable art is an impossible hurdle for some.

    Cindi Morrison, the former director of the Lancaster Museum of Art in Pennsylvania, hosted one of Sawaya’s first museum shows four years ago. She recalls how her modest museum was suddenly turned into a daily mob scene, with lines reaching around the block every morning. “I think he’s transcended his work only being about Lego bricks,” she says. “If you go back to Marcel Duchamp and his use of the readymade—taking things like tea cups, animal fur, a spoon and reinventing them—I think that’s what Nathan has done with a 2-by-4 piece of plastic. After a while, his sculptures just become sculptures. In my opinion, it’s closed-minded to think otherwise. People need to see past the bricks. If Christo can be celebrated around the world for covering things in fabric, then Nathan shouldn’t have a problem creating art out of plastic bricks.”

    That Sawaya’s current show is about repression is no coincidence. Many people were shocked when he abandoned the safety of the legal profession for Legos, but in reality, the prospect had been waiting for him his whole life. According to Sawaya, his passion started when he was 5 years old and was given his first Lego set as a Christmas present. The next morning, his parents discovered that their living room had been turned into a Lego city, complete with schools and “McLego” restaurants. Over the years, Sawaya grew as an artist and excelled in other mediums, but he always felt he could express himself best through Lego blocks.

    For years, his art was a source of embarrassment for him. When he was in college, he would hide his constructions under his dorm room bed. He refused to tell his girlfriend at the time what was really in the large cardboard boxes he received every month. Not having enough confidence in his art, Sawaya found success as a lawyer and kept the brick-building as a nighttime hobby.

    Sawaya’s life changed in 2004 when Legoland announced a worldwide search for their next Master Builder, the most coveted job in Lego fandom. He beat out thousands of virtuosic finalists for the $13-an-hour job. His firm granted him temporary leave for what they (and his fiancée at the time) assumed was simply a “phase.” After a five-month stint at Legoland, he felt confident enough to start a website showcasing his more personal artistic work. When the site crashed from too many hits, Sawaya decided it was time to quit the firm for good and pursue his art.

    He remembers visiting the 42nd floor of the MetLife building that January to personally explain to his boss why he was leaving the firm. His fiancée left him soon after, and he had to move into a more modest apartment. Sawaya admits that he needed his parents to support him for a time as he began rebuilding from the bottom up.

    After he finishes walking through the exhibit at Agora, Sawaya waits for his girlfriend, Courtney Simmons, to arrive. She hasn’t seen any of the works up until now. Sawaya says he made sure to keep them secret as he built them over the summer. When Simmons arrives, he takes her through the show, providing short explanations for each piece. She seems drained by the time she arrives at the ascending red man. “She cried,” Sawaya says. “That hasn’t happened before. It’s progress. Now they’re eliciting emotion.” 

    There will be a closing reception for Red at[ Agora Gallery ](530 W. 25th St.) Dec. 14, with the artist present.