So, I decided to spend some real time digging into the work of Anthony Tony Smith not long ago. You probably know who I mean – the guy who made those big, often black, metal sculptures.

My first pass was just scrolling through images online, you know? Saw things like ‘Die’, that famous cube, and a bunch of other angular pieces. Honestly, my first thought was, “Okay, it’s… shapes. Big shapes.” It looked pretty straightforward, almost stark. I wasn’t immediately blown away or anything, just kind of scratching my head wondering what the deep meaning was supposed to be.
I figured, it’s minimalism, right? Supposed to be simple. But I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do with it, how to appreciate it beyond just seeing a geometric form sitting there. Seemed like a quick thing to get, but I felt like I was missing something.
How This Whole Thing Started
It’s kind of funny how I ended up focusing on his stuff. I was working on a personal project, trying to build something, and I hit a wall. A massive creative block. Everything felt too complicated, too fussy. I kept adding bits, changing things, and just making it worse. Total mess.
I was venting to a friend about feeling stuck, and they casually mentioned Tony Smith. Said something like, “His stuff is super basic, right? Just fundamental shapes. Maybe looking at that stripped-down approach could help clear your head.” I kinda nodded and forgot about it.
But then, later that week, still frustrated, I stumbled across his name again while browsing. This time, I thought, “Okay, fine, let’s actually look.” So I did. I started reading interviews, looking at the scale of the installations, not just thumbnail images. Tried to understand where he was coming from.
And yeah, it turns out there was a whole thought process behind it. It wasn’t just random geometry. He was thinking about architecture, about industry, about how a person experiences walking around or seeing these massive objects. It was about the presence, the sheer thingness of the sculptures in their environment.
My Takeaway Practice
So my “practice” became trying to see beyond the simplicity on the surface. I spent time looking at specific pieces and thinking about them:
- Die: That steel cube, about six feet tall. Why that specific size? I read it was meant to relate to human scale – bigger than a person can easily grasp, smaller than a room. Made me think about size and interaction differently.
- His other works: I looked at pieces like ‘Gracehoper’ or ‘Willy’. They weren’t all just simple cubes; some were way more complex, sprawling lattice structures. Showed there was more range there.
- The making process: Found out he often worked with industrial fabricators. He’d make smaller models, but the big pieces were built by others based on his designs. This idea of the concept being the core thing was interesting.
It wasn’t about suddenly becoming an art history buff. For me, the practice was about patience. Sitting with those images, imagining the scale, trying to connect with that feeling of presence he was aiming for. It’s not flashy stuff; you kind of have to let it sink in.

Did it magically fix my creative block? Well, it helped. It pushed me to strip away the unnecessary clutter in my own project, to focus on the essential structure. So, yeah, spending time thinking about Tony Smith wasn’t about judging the art. It was more of a mental exercise, a way to force myself to appreciate simplicity and deliberate form. It was surprisingly useful, actually. Just looking and thinking. Simple as that.