You do not need me to tell you that Robert Melee‘s sculptures are unique. You don’t need me to evoke the names of Freud, Pollock, and Kristeva to define his intentions and your reactions. In fact, you don’t even need me to tell you that the familiarity (that quality which you recognize with a “that looks how I feel”) you feel is called the uncanny, or that the subject is considered manifestations of abjection. To say any of that would be to fulfill some intrinsic need of my own. It would take away from your ability to know these as they are.
Melee is something of a Renaissance Man (not in the Danny Devito sense). He is known for his exploits in film, photography, sculpting, installations, and theatre, but he is further known for his brand sensationalism, which pushes the boundaries of figurative art. In fact, his art is not something to be looked at; rather, it is something to be experienced. Like Melee’s stage plays, his sculptures can be described as histrionic. Perhaps it is the strong, contrasting colors, or perhaps it is the position in which each piece is set. In any case, despite their utterly non-human qualities, Melee’s sculptures are incredibly emotive.