Poetry of Motion

Bodies in motion at rest.

Does that make sense? Or seem logical? Or even possible?

No? Perfect. It is, after all ... art. Leave logic to the rational realm beyond the gallery doors.

"My art is being able to capture not just a moment, but capturing energy and a moment without freezing it," says figurative sculptor Richard MacDonald, creator of the unique exhibit lining the lobby of Bellagio's "O" Theatre, in which the human pretzels of Cirque du Soleil and other rubbery-limbed performers whose bodies are pieces of art unto themselves are celebrated in a most unnatural but appealing style -- standing still.

"Other artists might take thousands of photographs and put them on the wall and they bring all of those images together to create a piece. But I have a photographic memory for people and movement," MacDonald says.

Both fanciful and realistic while rearranging the human anatomy in fascinating ways, MacDonald's creations are a collection of mimes, dancers, acrobats, clowns, jugglers, angels and sprites, their forms a parade of improbable poses that, back in the gravity-saddled world of we mere mortals, keep chiropractors driving Cadillacs.

"Flight in Attitude" frames a graceful figure and swivels it in a style that seems to mock the constraints of human movement, while smaller pieces capture the sensual grace of performers tapping out the flamenco and dipping deeply into a tango.

A bronze column supports "Blossom," a nearly 6-foot-tall totem spreading out into an angelic bust, arms outstretched from its wings. "What he captures is the motion and the emotion," says Bellagio art consultant Laurie Lee. "He's very well-known for capturing the spirit in the face, and you'll notice when you look at these pieces that there's character, there's personality."

It appears to defy the dictates of nature that bodies built for perpetual motion are frozen in mid-leg kick and semi-arm sweep, as if the performers MacDonald immortalizes -- crouching, spinning, diving, climbing, twisting, jumping and thrusting in restless still-life -- are trapped within his art, desperate to shake off the bronze casts imprisoning them and leap back into the live-action universe.

In "Rain," an impish street mime, eyes cast upward toward his bowler hat and bent at the waist as if taking an exaggerated bow, extends an open palm to test for imagined precipitation. A few feet away, mime master Marcel Marceau is captured asleep, head tilted toward dreamland, a pixie's purse-lipped smile lighting his face. Looming like a guiding spirit at the far end of the exhibit, a massive Rudolf Nureyev gazes downward, energy apparently spent, pulling off the top of his leotard in a pose MacDonald took from film of the ballet icon backstage immediately following a performance.

In video footage that accompanies the exhibit, the camera follows MacDonald in his Monterey, Calif., studio, as jugglers, contortionists and dancers model in a fashion that would infuriate most artists: They back flip through suspended rings, juggle balls atop their backs and heads and sweep across the floor as if dancing on wings. With a blur of action rolling around him, MacDonald keeps pace like a shadowboxer, fingers flying across a mound of clay, molding the sight -- and spirit -- before him. The effect is dual artistry, twin types of creativity in parallel performances.

"They come in and start performing, and I have nothing necessarily in mind," says MacDonald, who plans to open a Las Vegas studio. "The Cirque performers are the most difficult to capture. You have to have a total understanding of anatomy because they do things that no other human can do. They're at the top of their performance level and I'm at the top of mine, so when you put them together, there's this synchronization and a piece of art that has movement and character and life."

How ironic to honor in bronze those who treat their spines, joints and limbs like human Silly Putty.

But it is, after all ... art. Invoke logic at your own risk.

Contact reporter Steve Bornfeld at sbornfeld@reviewjournal.com or (702) 383-0256.