. In just five years Mark Anastasi (1961-) has made his mark in carving limestone with an effortlessness, enthusiasm and gusto that verges on the magical.

It is a passion, an obsession, a therapeutic fling best analysed in a compact, bold and strong male nude. Crouched and covering his ears he seems deafened and perplexed by a mad world without logic or reason. Almost losing his foothold on the piece of rock that supports him he seems insecure, confused, rejected and lonely. He has lost all sense of time and space.

This sculpture could refer to the artist himself trying to express his inner feelings and unable to relate his love of music and harmony to the chaos and cacophony of the industrialised world around him. His art could be release, a therapeutic effort to heal stress, strain and tension caused by his incredulity at such madness and discord.

The relentless manner in the way he applies himself at carving stone lends weight to this hypothesis. He works with such an obsession, fixation and abandon, he works so assiduously, he is so prolific that sculpture has become his life, his raison d’etre, his only passion. He contracted such fixation in a sudden and abrupt manner and since 2001 has continuously carved stone with an uncommon zeal and fervour. The suffused softness achieved, the smooth polished surfaces, the cold powdery whiteness of the stone emphasise the morbid, surreal and metaphysical qualities in his work.

Mark is a dreamer, imaginative and full of fantasy. He carves with spontaneity and improvises all the way. He takes a line for a walk. Destination is never clear, it is nebulous and therefore the journey is one of risk, surprises and mystery.

His repetition of forms and modules develop into grotesque, monstrous and ghostly works. In his work there is an affinity to Romanesque beastiary carved around church doorjambs and column capitals. His dreams are nightmares.

Mark exploits the standard ‘franka’ block with his feverish imagination, in an amazing manner. In vertical cylindrical modules or in horizontal tiered ziggurats he creates delicately honeycombed structures without weakening the stone. He forms towers, ramps and steps that spiral upwards towards the sky brushing the clouds in the process. The sources of his abstracted forms are architecture, archaeological ruins, beastiary, human forms, bones, vegetable life, fossils, masks and eggs.

It is amazing how he can express in stone the flowing hair of a woman ruffled in the wind or an egg held precariously in a hand with open fingers. His best works are those constructed from patterned forms like tiered saltpans or catacombs. Mark hews into the soft limestone like a woodworm or bookworm achieving the effect of coalminers in rock. At times it is merely surface mining, on other occasions it is deep mining.

Mark is like an explorer, an adventurer who is ready to risk all to get at the core. His endless search to get to the heart of the matter often ends in disillusion. As in life there are no answers, there is no understanding of things. And so he starts again to unravel the mystery. The process becomes endless and infinite. The more he carves the less sure he becomes of his goal. This predicament surfaces in his remarks about his work: ‘I don’t know, I don’t know, I Can’t explain, I don’t understand’. In art there is very little understanding but as in his case there can be a lot of fun, enjoyment and satisfaction.

Mark Anastasi was born in Sliema. He started earning a living by converting farmhouses and houses of character. He loves architecture and construction but actually prefers the patience of laying wall and floor tiles – another attempt at therapy. He has learnt photography the hard way by trial and error. He loves music and he treats stone sculpture as musical compositions. Before taking up sculpture Mark specialised in breeding reptiles. He loves pets too, especially cats. His life is now dominated by his obsession in carving stone.

Mark is presently living at Manikata. Before he lived in an old farmhouse in Mosta, quaint and homily which he converted himself. From the wide and large French window at his house in Manikata he meditates on the Pwales valley lying below him. It is a panoramic view from a splendid and comfortable belvedere. He loves the tranquillity and serenity, the peace and quiet of this enclave. A thinker needs to meditate and reflect. The soothing effect his work evokes is not dissimilar to the atmosphere and mood of his ambience.

limestone carving