Sculpture has suffered negation in the discourse and the marketplace. For Rosalind Krauss it was both not-architecture ["what was on or in front of a building that was not the building,'] and not-landscape ["what was in the landscape that was not the landscape."] For Ad Reinhardt sculpture was not-painting: Something you bump into when you back up to look at a painting.
Modernism and postmodernism aggrandized the painting, the mark, the brush, the gesture, rendering sculpture's critical presence invisible, its space a void. In the Internet age, painting and photography slide in and out of JPEGs while sculpture is left behind IRL, its simulacra always giving the digital game away.
By now we can't deny it: the critical theories we have erected have proved impotent when confronting the fertile field of sculpture as it is practiced today.
Artists are making sculptures with all the overlooked verbs on Richard Serra's list (*). Sculpture exists in and defines not just physical space, but psychic space, conceptual space, political space. And not just space, but our presence in it, our relationship to it, our movement through it, our responsibility for it.
Sculpture is physical, at once a thing, the space around it, and an image, a full-spectrum experience imprinted on the brain and the body of the viewer.