Bruised and battered, yet undaunted in his self-belief, ‘Don Quixote II’ sits astride the long-suffering nag Rocinante and readies himself for more battles ahead. His predicament speaks for Everyman. This Don Quixote is the embodiment of a theme that runs though Deborah van der Beek's work: the human as a hapless warrior tramping towards his inevitable end.

The message of our mortality doesn’t come as much of a surprise, in life or in art; but these sculptures never stoop down to death; they rise to its challenge. They are beguiling and beautiful, each with a tender, playful, black humour and an affinity with the underdog: Don Quixote on his aging horse, Ned Kelly in his homemade armour taking his last stand, an assorted string of riders pitting themselves almost comically against the fates.

When cast in bronze even the most mundane or disturbing objects become precious. Rubber gloves, fruit and animals’ teeth, bird bones: organic and incongruous objects find their way into the cast as a result of Deborah’s interest in both the cycle of life and death, and in unexpected, irreverent humour. But the sculptures also convey an anxiety about the downfall of men through war. In the piece ‘Nice Gun’ a gun cast in bronze fires strawberries instead of bullets, as if to disarm the weapon and break the spell of war to which so many of the figures in her sculptures have succumbed.

A roomful of these sculptures gives the impression of a sketchbook of drawings come to life, as if the paper couldn’t hold them. Though figurative, van der Beek's distortions give them truth, spirit, and spontaneity. They are like vividly remembered objects, or things seen in motion from a distance.

Together they form a ragged and striking procession of characters, immortal icons from our mythological heritage, brought up sharp by the sculptor’s modern eye and wit. Every piece takes part in a brilliant life-force. Like the kouros statues of ancient Greece, Ned Kelly steps with his gun, left foot in front of right, towards death and the hereafter, and one feels that the rest of the beautiful, defiant entourage is poised to follow in his wake.

Samantha Harvey, August 2008