I recently had the privilege of attending the press preview of the special exhibition, “Martin Puryear: Nexus” at the Cleveland Museum of Art, on display until Aug. 9. There, in front of a reverent crowd, Puryear shared the inspiration for one of his iconic works, “Alien Huddle,” a form of three intersecting spheres wrapped masterfully with red cedar planks, as the introduction of his newborn daughter to the world, swaddled by a loving couple.

The work creates an interesting tension: Viewers may instinctively read the title through the lens of immigration or “otherness,” but Puryear redirects that instinct toward something universal and human. That tension is what makes “Alien Huddle” resonate: It acknowledges the word’s charge without being defined by it.

In that sense, the work also reflects a broader shift in how we understand sculpture today. Once defined by permanence, polish, and technical mastery, the medium no longer fits so neatly within those boundaries.

Today, sculpture is one of the most experimental and challenging disciplines in contemporary art. It may not always possess the polished finish or material mastery associated with artists like Puryear, and, increasingly, it is not meant to feel resolved. Instead, it invites tension between form and concept. That gap between intention and interpretation is part of what makes sculpture resonate. It doesn’t limit interpretation; it anchors it in something human and grounded.

At The Sculpture Center on Euclid Avenue near East 123rd Street, we describe ourselves as a very specific niche. That is intentional. Sculpture requires a different kind of attention, both from institutions and from audiences. It asks more of the artist, and it asks more of the viewer.

Today, sculptors are creating experiences that engage with urgent themes: alienation; displacement; belonging; and otherness. These are lived realities. Sculpture, in its physical presence, makes those realities tangible. That experience is central to why sculpture matters right now.

We are living in a time that is anything but stable. It is no surprise that artists are responding with work that reflects that condition. Materials are disrupted. Forms are atypical. Pieces appear unfinished — not because the artist failed, but because the work is honest about uncertainty. That moment, where something might fail, is often where the work becomes most powerful.

Sculpture is not always accessible early in an artist’s career. It requires space, materials, and sustained support. At The Sculpture Center, mentorship is one of our core pillars. We work with artists at pivotal moments in their careers, often before they have had a solo exhibition, and provide the resources to fully realize a body of work within a dedicated space. Equally important, we provide a platform to be seen.

Grace Chin is executive director of The Sculpture Center in Cleveland. Kay Cohen

When we support emerging and mid-career sculptors, we are investing in a form that continues to evolve in real time. We are giving artists permission to challenge expectations and create work that does not fit neatly into established categories.

And that is precisely the point.

Sculpture should not behave. It should challenge us physically, intellectually, and emotionally.

If we want an art scene that reflects the complexity of the world we live in, we must make space for disciplines that resist easy interpretation. Sculpture does that. It slows us down. It disrupts our assumptions. And at its best, it changes how we understand what sculpture can do and how we understand ourselves.

Chin is executive director of The Sculpture Center, a Cleveland-based institution dedicated exclusively to contemporary sculpture. She is known for her commitment to supporting artists at pivotal moments in their careers.