The object of art is not to reproduce, but to create a reality with the same intensity.”
~ Alberto Giacometti

“I was once on the telephone in an auction with a bidder who wanted to buy a magnificent Giacometti sculpture, Walking Man. This very rare bronze almost never comes up. The collector had wanted it all his collecting life. The three or four minutes of bidding were a memorable experience. The amounts of money by which each bid was increased were almost irrelevant; all that mattered was the object, and keeping alive the opportunity to own it. The quickening pulse of the bidding created an almost unbearable intensity. When the hammer finally fell, my client had bought it for 65 million pounds, then the highest price ever paid at auction. But that barely registered by comparison with the relief, pleasure and exultation of acquiring the work. It was the crowning moment of a lifetime’s collecting.”
These are the words of Philip Hook, an experienced art dealer and auctioneer, and recently board member and senior director of the Impressionist & Modern Art department at Sotheby’s in London. The artwork he mentions is Alberto Giacometti’s Walking Man, one of the 20th century’s most iconic sculpture, and the focus of my post today.
A Pioneer of ‘Existentialist Art’
Born in Switzerland in 1901, Alberto Giacometti was one of the most important sculptors of the 20th century. His work was particularly influenced by artistic styles such Cubism and Surrealism. Nevertheless, the sculptures that he produced from 1947 onwards abandoned the surrealist visual vocabulary and turned to an entirely new approach to art – using the human body to portray the existential tensions of the human condition.
Influenced by the existential writer, Jean-Paul Sartre in Paris, Giacometti created sculptures of frail-looking men and women who seem to occupy the liminal space between being and ceasing to exist. Walking Man is no doubt the most famous of these solitary figures.


The sculpture is made of a single piece of bronze, and depicts a solitary male figure walking, his arms close to his body. He is thin and skeletal in appearance; and the unpolished surface of his entire body gives him an anguished look that accentuates his somewhat loping gait. Giacometti makes no attempt to define the man’s facial features, so the man remains anonymous. Giacometti is telling us that this could be anyone, implying that the isolation and angst of being human is a universal condition. Observe, too, that the figure is completely on his own, with no other human being, animal or landscape around him, a reminder that we, too are ultimately alone. Finally, notice that the figure wears no clothing or accessory and carries no objects, another reminder that we, like this man, brings nothing into this world and will leave with nothing.
Many people, including me, feel a bit queasy looking at this sculpture in person. I believe this is exactly what Giacometti wants us to feel, to ponder and reflect on the realities of being who we are and press on, and continue walking despite everything.
Watch: Giacometti at work