For six decades, Ray Exworth produced some of Britain’s most extraordinary sculptures in near-total secrecy, filling multiple studio buildings and shipping containers on a remote Cornish smallholding with enormous, complex pieces assembled from salvaged materials. Yet scarcely anyone ever saw them. The reclusive artist, who died in 2015 at the age of 84, granted access to fewer than 20 people during his lifetime – even his wife of many years was mostly excluded. Now, close to ten years after his death, photographer Jem Southam’s new book Ray’s Sheds offers remarkable insights into Exworth’s hidden masterpieces, raising deep inquiries about art’s purpose when it stays permanently hidden by the world.
A Life of Isolated Creative Work
Ray Exworth’s artistic output was defined by an deeply monastic commitment to his discipline, conducted entirely removed from the public eye. Over the course of 60 years, he toiled in complete obscurity in his Cornish studios, accumulating an remarkable collection of pieces that became progressively ambitious and complex. Notwithstanding his obvious talent – he was referred to as “one of the truly original artists of our day” – Exworth remained virtually obscure outside of a limited circle of invited guests. His single major exhibition came early in his working life, at London’s prestigious Whitechapel Gallery in London in 1975, after which he retreated entirely out of the art world’s view.
The origins of Exworth’s withdrawal from society and artistic preoccupation were rooted in his formative period. Born in Ipswich in 1930, he saw firsthand the severe destruction of air raids during the war, which destroyed his childhood residence not once but on two occasions during the war years. These traumatic memories became embedded in his artistic consciousness, surfacing repeatedly in his sculptures through persistent imagery of figurative and household forms. His father, a skilled sandcaster, fostered in young Ray a deep appreciation for the craft of creating objects with precision – a value the sculptor would carry throughout his reclusive career.
- Spent 60 years creating sculptures in complete isolation from the public eye
- Had just a single exhibition in his lifetime at Whitechapel Gallery in 1975
- Created massive lead sculptures, including a 60-foot by 30-foot garden sculpture
- Drew artistic inspiration from wartime suffering and childhood memories of his father’s artistic skill
The Circus Building and Beyond
A Decade of Meticulous Workmanship
Among Exworth’s finest creations stands The Circus, a sprawling assemblage housed within one of his studio sheds that exemplifies his obsessive attention to detail and imaginative vision. Constructed from salvaged materials assembled throughout decades, the work demonstrates the artist’s skill in transforming simple abandoned materials into something extraordinary and emotionally powerful. The sheer scale and intricacy of The Circus reveal a mind utterly consumed by artistic purpose, labouring in isolation with no expectation of recognition or audience appreciation. Each component was positioned with meticulous precision, suggesting Exworth’s steadfast dedication to his creative vision irrespective of external recognition.
Photographer Jem Southam’s initial introduction with Exworth’s work proved profoundly influential, documenting the overwhelming emotional impact that meets visitors upon stepping into these secluded spaces. “The door slid open and my jaw dropped,” Southam remembers, detailing the moment he glimpsed the collected treasures within. The sheer audacity of Exworth’s creative scope becomes at once apparent – pieces of colossal proportions, intricate miniature works, and all manner of creations, all carefully crafted from whatever materials he could find. This encounter would eventually lead to Southam’s extensive photographic documentation, safeguarding for posterity what might otherwise have been lost into obscurity and deterioration.
The seven studio sheds and dispersed shipping containers that dot Exworth’s Cornish smallholding function as a vast, interconnected gallery – though one that remained sealed to the outside world throughout his lifetime. His wife Susie, now 92, movingly remembers that she required formal invitation to view her own husband’s artistic output, kept away from spaces where he spent the majority of his waking hours. This remarkable seclusion speaks to the distinctive quality of Exworth’s artistic practice: a endeavour pursued purely for its own sake, wholly removed from commercial consideration, critical appraisal, or even familial appreciation. The sculptures stand as witness to an artist operating at the absolute pinnacle of his abilities, driven solely by internal creative compulsion rather than external reward or recognition.
- The Circus showcases decades of meticulous assembly from salvaged materials and found objects
- Exworth’s monumental lead sculptures feature a 60-by-30-foot replica garden from memory
- Seven workshop sheds and shipping containers house the full extent of hidden work
- Only approximately twenty individuals were permitted to see the sculptures during Exworth’s lifetime
- His wife was largely excluded of the sheds except with specific invitation from the creator
Preserving the Heritage
The uncovering of Exworth’s concealed masterpieces raises pressing questions about conservation and posterity. With the artist now deceased and his works languishing in remote Cornish sheds, the fight against the clock has become essential. Environmental factors present an persistent threat – damp, degradation, and the relentless passage of years could claim these irreplaceable works. Jem Southam’s photographic documentation arrives at a critical juncture, documenting the sculptures before damage overtakes them entirely. Without such action, the world would have lost not merely artworks, but an entire artistic philosophy about the nature of creative expression itself.
The difficulty of safeguarding Exworth’s heritage goes further than basic record-keeping. His family now confronts monumental decisions concerning the future of these creations – whether to keep them in their original locations, seek institutional homes for important works, or let the structures remain as a form of destination for art devotees. The vast extent and ambition of his body of work complicates these deliberations. Some sculptures are too large for relocation; others need expert conservation. Yet allowing them to go unmaintained guarantees their eventual loss. The years ahead will determine whether Exworth’s extraordinary vision survives for generations to come or fades away into history.
The Photographic Archive
Jem Southam’s book, Ray’s Sheds, embodies an unprecedented act of artistic archaeology. Through detailed visual recording, Southam has created a extensive photographic collection of works that lay in virtual obscurity. The photographs capture not merely individual sculptures but the entire ecosystem of Exworth’s creative practice – the accumulated studio spaces, the gathered resources, the interconnected nature of his lifelong undertaking. This visual documentation acts as both archival document and artistic work in its own right, honouring the sculptor’s vision whilst making it accessible to a world that never had the possibility of experiencing it firsthand.
The photographic project also raises compelling inquiries about creative intent and audience. Exworth intentionally shut out viewers; Southam has intentionally engaged them. By converting private spaces into public ones, the photographer has fundamentally altered the work’s relationship to the world. Yet Southam approaches this responsibility with care, regarding the structures not as curiosities but as serious artistic achievements worthy of contemplation. His images uncover the profound beauty and conceptual rigour at the heart of Exworth’s practice, confirming the artist’s belief that the work itself held significance, regardless of who witnessed it.
| Challenge | Solution |
|---|---|
| Environmental deterioration of outdoor sculptures | Comprehensive photographic documentation and selective relocation to protected storage |
| Massive scale of works preventing easy movement | Site-specific preservation with climate control measures and structural assessment |
| Lack of institutional recognition or cataloguing | Southam’s book and photography archive creating permanent record and scholarly foundation |
| Absence of artist’s own documentation or notes | Oral history interviews with Susie Exworth and the handful of people who visited the sheds |
Grasping the Artist’s Vision
Ray Exworth’s creative work emerged from deeply personal and traumatic origins. Born in Ipswich in 1930, his childhood was marked by harrowing wartime events – his family home was bombed twice, leaving indelible impressions that would reappear across his six-decade career. His father, an accomplished sandcaster, fostered in Ray an respect for skilled workmanship and the meticulous art of making things. These formative influences shaped Exworth’s approach to sculpture, which regularly referenced childhood memories and domestic objects: clowns, dolls, and gardens became recurring motifs in his artistic output, each imbued with individual meaning and wistful yearning.
The most striking example of this self-referential artistic vision is Exworth’s massive lead reinterpretation of his family’s rebuilt garden—a 60-foot by 30-foot floor-mounted piece crafted entirely from beaten lead. Carefully assembled from memory, it features forks, spades, lettuces, flowering roses, and bamboo beanpoles, each element carefully detailed. This work, alongside two other similarly massive lead pieces, exemplifies Exworth’s dedication to converting emotional and psychological landscapes into tangible sculptural expression. The sheer ambition and labour involved reveals an artist impelled not by marketplace demands or popular esteem, but by an internal compulsion to maintain and reshape his direct life encounters into enduring sculptural form.
- Wartime bombing raids profoundly shaped Exworth’s artistic concerns and psychological terrain
- Father’s influence instilled strong regard for skilled craftsmanship and material mastery
- Childhood memories and domestic objects served as the central focus throughout his career
- Massive scale works reveal commitment to challenging, time-intensive sculptural endeavours
Understanding Exworth’s vision requires acknowledging that his decision to remain hidden was not mere eccentricity but perhaps a natural development of his creative principles. If art stemmed from intimate psychological realms and private experience, then perhaps its most authentic form lay in withdrawal from public view. The sculptures existed as expressions of private release and creative meditation rather than works for public consumption seeking validation or external meaning-making. This understanding reframes our approach to the purpose of art fundamentally – proposing that creation itself, regardless of audience, possesses fundamental importance and purpose within the creator’s inner world.