Epstein: A Biography [Englisch] [Gebundene Ausgabe]

Epstein is avant garde sculpture in England in the first quarter of the century with one sole accomplice, Henri Gaudier-Brzeska (see Jim Ede's "Savage Messiah") and the position of "Rock-Drill" or his tomb for Oscar Wiled in Paris in its current form is unquestioned and honourably placed in any anthology of British art, his "doves" (commissioned by John Quinn of the NY Met), "Head of Romilly John", "Tommy", or "Maternity" are of clear and unquestionable importance, and his draughtsmanship from that period is outstandingly good.
Riding the crest of tribal art he aroused huge suspicion and great animosity leading to public commissions being tarred and feathered and the purchase of several of his major works (from the secondary market) by the waxworks king, Louis Tussauds, for a sort of shilling-a-time peep show in Blackpool for people who wanted to be shocked.
Because he was not formally innovative beyond this modernism (with roots in tribal art and contemporary machines) he is, rightly or wrongly, ignored by anthologers of 20th century art as a whole taking a clear 2nd place to Lipschitz and Laurens and the Cubist sculptors and, in England, and most gallingly to Epstein himself, Henry Moore.
Fortunately despite his periodic vilification in England he was given public commissions especially after WWII where the extensive building program gave plenty of opportunity and his work can be seen in Coventry Cathedral, Llandaff Cathedral in Cardiff, The Trade Unions Congress War Memorial etc. This later work is a move away from the totem symbolism to expressionist figurative sculpture of a type, I would say, more convincing than Barlach and carving out a position easiest described as a sort of sculptural Lucien Freud.
Stephen Gardiner is described as being a hagiographer. This is true, he pins his colours very firmly to the wall. He is an Epstein partisan but wow he tells the story well and whatever you think of Epstein's art his life is a hell of a story with wives and mistresses coming and going, fellow artists (Augustus John, Henry Moore, Eric Gill, Matthew Smith) befriended and blasted with all the tact of Wyndham Lewis, with public praise and public villification, rags and riches too many times over etc.
Gardiner does not hide Epstein's callousness with friends and colleagues, even criticises him in dulcet tones (very ) occasionally such as E's "paranoia" about the veracity of Augustus John's friendship towards him, but on the whole he makes it perfectly clear that he thinks Epstein is a great genius and that this excuses everything. But This never prevents him from giving us the evidence to make up our own minds differently. And a biographer who was less passionate about Epstein would never have commanded the same wealth of detail and passion to sustain our interest unflaggingly through what is, in the end, a large biography about an artist who spent most of his time with his chisel and a large block of stone. Very juicy stuff.