Sculptor earned fans, critics and infamy
It’s said his works elicited controversy, vandalism, love and public protest. It’s said drivers shone their headlights on his nude sculptures at night.
It’s said he took on a skinhead’s speeding car in Latimer Square, was arrested for gluing shut the locks of an airline’s offices, and got a police officer reprimanded, all during the 1981 Springbok tour.
For a modern sculptor in conservative Christchurch, Llew Summers was a rock star who lived a storied life.
His nude figures and huge personality earned him fans, critics and infamy. Many of his public works were considered challenging, in time becoming landmarks in towns and cities up and down Aotearoa.
Summers died, aged 72, in the Mt Pleasant home he built, surrounded by his family, his immense art collection, and his life’s work. Over two nights of private vigils, hundreds gathered in the castle he shared with Robyn to recount stories and memories.
People filled the Mt Pleasant Community Centre for his funeral on August 5. A convoy of mourners carried him from his home in a boat-shaped coffin built by his nephew Evan, one of Llew’s last pieces fixed to the bow. He was cremated in a kiln made from his own fire bricks at a family farm in the Canterbury Plains.
Llewelyn Mark Summers was born at Burwood Hospital, and spent much of his childhood in the family’s small house on Port Hills Rd, surrounded by paddocks and open spaces. He spent many afternoons in the Port Hills, collecting mushrooms and pine cones.
His father was a writer and art critic, and ran the John Summers Bookshop. The family home was frequented by poets and painters, sculptors and writers, and he grew up surrounded by art and opinion. Tony Fomison used to babysit Llew and his siblings; Colin McCahon was a family friend.
He began sculpting in the 1960s and produced his first proper work in 1967. Encouraged by his parents and Fomison, he held his first exhibition in 1971, at the Canterbury Society of Arts, now the Centre of Contemporary Art in central Christchurch. It went well.
Predominantly sculpting figures, often nude, his style has been called bold and simple. Rather than wanting to shock people, his work celebrated the human body, particularly male sexuality, which he saw as a hugely potent force in the world. If you didn’t have an immediate reaction to it, what was the point, he said. An intellectual response was not as important as an emotional one.
One of his first public works, Tranquility, was placed outside Timaru Library in 1981. It was quickly vandalised with red paint, and letters were sent to the local paper.
Summers always said it was an important moment in his career. A second piece was purchased in 2017 and installed near Caroline Bay. There were no complaints.
He was commissioned in 2000 to sculpt the Stations of the Cross for the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament, in Christchurch. His statements about male sexuality being part of humanity, and his choice to sculpt Jesus nude on the cross, caused outrage and protest. He added a plaster loincloth, although he joked that it would fall off in time.
His generosity to other artists was huge. He built a house on his property in the early 2000s and ran a rent-free residency for aspiring artists. News of his death brought tributes from artists throughout New Zealand, acknowledging both his long involvement and contribution to sculpture.
His independence of expression was valued by all.
Robyn, his partner of 12 years, said he was a busy man. He landscaped their large Mt Pleasant section, planted thousands of native trees in the valley, learned to surf in his late 50s, and shared his passion for the ocean with her. They tramped all over Aotearoa, exploring hidden corners, and held annual parties that were the talk of the town.
Summers wore snakeskin boots and tight pants. A noted sharp dresser, he was happy to stand out in a crowd.
He spoke freely about obscure European artists, sexuality and art history. An autodidact, he was continually on a journey of selfbetterment and knowledge. Evenings were spent reading by the fire, discussing literature, making meals and pouring coffee or whisky for visitors, attending gallery openings and supporting the arts.
In an interview with The Press in 2017, he said he hoped his work had ‘‘substance and worth’’. He wondered about his place in art history, and was pleased sculptures weren’t as easy to pack away and hide as paintings.
‘‘None of us really knows our worth. Mostly what it is today is just about money, which is not really your worth.
‘‘It’s about how your works will be appreciated over time really, whether they have a life after you’re gone.’’
Summers is survived by his partner, Robyn Webster, his six siblings, his children – Kristin, Daniel and Justin – many grandchildren and two greatgrandchildren. – By Jack Fletcher