When Maurizio Cattelan first exhibited Novecento (1997) – a sculpture of a horse with elongated legs, suspended from a ceiling by a leather harness – it caused quite the stir. Seen as an embodiment of pre-millennial anxiety, it was a masterpiece of sinister suggestion. When it hung in the centre of the Guggenheim in New York in 2011–12, its position as one of the artist’s most recognisable works was consolidated (though perhaps it has since been gazumped by a banana).
Now the popularity of the work looks set to reach new heights, as Avant Arte prepares to release a limited edition of the sculpture in miniature. It is not the only time that Avant Arte, which specialises in making authorised editions of artists’ works, has worked with Cattelan: the Italian sculptor’s Not Afraid of Love (2000) is also part of this collaboration. The image of an elephant under a sheet with holes cut for its eyes and trunk has always been one of your roving correspondent’s favourites.
Perhaps this is a symptom of growing up in the 1980s, but the miniaturised Novecento reminded Rakewell of something. The horse has a star power that is hard to pin down. There is something elusive yet mesmerising about it, especially when it hangs above an empty table – or is that a stage? And so it dawned on your correspondent that what the sculpture most vividly summons is the princely, prancing attitude of Karl Lagerfeld – specifically the most delightful incarnation of his character, My Little Karl Lagerfeld. Until the release of Novecento, My Little Karl Lagerfeld was indubitably the finest miniature horse available. Rakewell is no longer quite so sure.
