Despite the rapid and exciting developments in both architecture and sculpture, the two have seldom been meaningfully and integrally united. The architecture of Le Corbusier, Frank Lloyd Wright, Pier Luigi Nervi, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, and others occasionally shows strong sculptural qualities, but relatively rarely were their surfaces planned to receive sculpture. Freestanding sculptures such as those created by Gabo, Antoine Pevsner, José de Rivera, Calder, and Noguchi have been used to provide intimacy and visual relief from the severity of the “cult of the cube” in architecture. The architectural firm of Skidmore, Owings & Merrill (SOM) successfully used Bertoia’s brilliant screens and Noguchi’s sculptures and garden ideas; Roszak’s Eagle for the American embassy in London and Moore’s changeable reliefs on the London Time and Life Building held out hope for further thoughtful integration of the arts.

Also of great moment is the phenomenon of the sculptor-designer who produced important changes in furniture and industrial design. Max Bill’s school in Ulm, Germany, showed great promise. Playground facilities have been revolutionized by such designs as those made by Noguchi for Creative Playthings Inc. in the United States and the slides, hollowed forms, and climb apparatus of Egon Moeller-Nielson for parks in Stockholm. Noguchi, László Moholy-Nagy, Bill, Bertoia, and many other modern artists contributed to the breakdown of the distinction between the object of utility and the work of art. Not since Gothic times did sculpture show such promise of becoming an extensive and important part of human existence.

In Italy, traditional trends in sculpture were reflected in the brilliant accomplished modelling of Giacomo Manzù; Marino Marini, devoting himself almost entirely to the single theme of horse and rider, gave a bald realistic style an oddly apocalyptic force. The rough-hewn monumentality of the figures of the Austrian carver Fritz Wotruba is characteristic of this phase. Joannis Avramidis, also working in Vienna, turned figures into clusters of simplified formal echoes; the third sculptor of the Viennese group, Rudolf Hoflehner, who worked in iron, transformed them into symbolic presences. The segmental iron sculpture of the Spaniard Eduardo Chillida deals with a more limited and powerful range of forms.

Robert Rauschenberg in the United States sought to place his subtly calculated “combines” in the gap between reality and art, contrasting the significance of paint with the borrowed imagery and objects that are juxtaposed to it. Such works as Monogram (1955–59) and Canyon (1959) hover in a space between three-dimensional sculpture and two-dimensional painting. Another American, Claes Oldenburg, began by reconstructing common things out of the random pictorial substance of Abstract Expressionism; his later reconstructions of the rigid furniture of life are tailored out of limp plastic sheeting, and the paradox oddly extends one’s knowledge of the objective world.

In the reliefs of the Venezuelan Jesús Raphael Soto, the shifting paradoxes of vision are given a delicate order. Aside from this, the widespread work in kinetic mediums, such as that of Nicholus Takis, during the 1960s formed a separate genre, winking and shuddering on its own, most nearly linked to the Surrealist tradition.

Other sequels of the general rationalization and concentration of artistic means have been more fertile. In the hands of the U.S. painters Kenneth Noland and Frank Stella, painting discovered new shapes, both within the rectangular canvas and beyond it. The new value that was given to the painted plane did not benefit painting only. The British painter Richard Smith deployed it in three dimensions in painted constructions that re-create impressions of commercial packaging in terms of the spatial imagination of the arts. Sculpture, reequipped with colour, developed remarkably, and Anthony Caro led a group of British sculptors in exploration of spatial modulation and formal analogy.