The sculpture shows the time of gathering but also a gathering up of transience, as if by embracing time you might stop its perpetual motion. And in bronze it is caught forever.
In such work the distinction between the human and the natural world is blurred, reminding me of Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses,’ in which people are transformed into trees, birds, and flowers. In all the tales the transformation is an act of mercy – so the self-obsessed, lovelorn youth Narcissus becomes a flower instead of suffering death, and the devoted old couple Baucis and Philemon are changed into trees at the same time. There is real compassion in Gillespie’s work too, and she would understand that process of becoming, for in those sculptures which do not make use of the twigs and seeds which became a characteristic so beloved of her admirers, there is still a struggle to break free of what was and become something else. So a white figure is imprisoned within a stone wall, and people wrapped in duct or masking tape are infused with extraordinary energy and given the gift of flight.
This is the work of an artist at the height of her powers, who is involved in an endless process of change herself – a serious, passionate quest for synthesis.
Bel Mooney

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