03-06-2025
- Entertainment
- New Straits Times
Look up, George Town: Spanish artist's sad sculptures invade Penang
GEORGE TOWN: At first glance, they are easy to miss. Perched on power boxes, tucked behind signboards, or suspended mid-air on building cornices — miniature cement figures gaze silently at the streets below, quietly observing the chaos and colour of the city.
These sculptures form part of Cement Eclipses, a long-running global art project by Spanish sculptor Isaac Cordal, now subtly transforming Penang's capital into a living, breathing gallery of social commentary.
What began as a temporary installation during the George Town Festival has evolved into a permanent, interactive "sad art" scavenger hunt that is captivating both locals and tourists.
"We were wondering why so many people were looking up — and finally, we spotted the miniature figure. It was so intriguing that we started searching for more. We'd love to know the story behind them," said Annabelle Martin, 19, from England, when met at Lebuh Ah Quee, where one of the figures sat perched high above.
Nearby, others can be found in locations such as Lebuh Armenian, a popular spot among visitors.
Martin was accompanied by her best friend, Emily Pesquero, also 19, who is visiting Penang on a four-day holiday.
"There's something funny and oddly moving about them," Pesquero said.
Standing just 17 to 20cm tall, the sculptures typically depict middle-aged men in suits or tourist gear, slouched with weary expressions. Their body language speaks volumes — of fatigue, detachment, and quiet resignation.
Yet while some interpret the figures as melancholic, or even macabre, Cordal insists their purpose is more layered.
"They're placed high up not to isolate them emotionally, but to protect them physically," Cordal told the New Straits Times.
"The idea is to create hidden moments — small, ironic, even humorous scenes that make you stop and wonder."
Cordal began Cement Eclipses in 2006, as a response to society's obsession with productivity and relentless progress. Even the name is a metaphor — referring to the literal and figurative shadows cast by urban architecture.
From London to Madrid, Hanoi to Penang, Cordal's cement men appear the same — tired, uniform, as if mass-produced by an invisible machine.
"They all look like they come from the same mould. That's intentional," he said.
"It's a metaphor for how neoliberalism mass-produces identity and behaviour."
Currently, around 30 sculptures are dotted throughout George Town, most positioned at least three to four metres above ground. To find them, one must look up — at ledges, window sills, or rooftops.
And in doing so, something shifts.
"You begin to see the city differently. You slow down, you notice textures, cracks in the walls — the history behind each corner," said Martin.
The project reflects Cordal's wider interest in urban intervention — using art not simply to beautify, but to question.
His figures are not merely sad; they are critiques.
"It's about stepping back and asking: what's the collateral damage of so-called progress? These figures are witnesses," Cordal said.
With the addition of Penang, Cordal's work now quietly inhabits over 30 cities worldwide. In each, the figures serve both as visual commentary and urban 'Easter eggs'.
While the characters remain consistent, their placement is always unique — subtly altering how we engage with public spaces.
In George Town, the response has been particularly playful. Locals have started tagging their discoveries on Instagram, and cafés located near sculpture sites have reported increased footfall.
Yet despite their sombre aesthetic, Cordal does not view his work as depressing.
"There is sadness, yes, but also humour, irony, absurdity. It's the emotional contradiction that makes it real," he said.
For George Town, the sculptures serve as a quiet reminder that art does not require a frame — or even eye-level visibility — to leave a lasting impression.
