18. 18P AR MARINO MARINI (1901-1980) Cavallo e cavaliere stamped with the artist's initials and numbered 'MM 3/3' (on the terrace) bronze with polychrome patina 238 x 124,5 x 173,2 cm. 93 11/16 x 49 x 68 3/16 in. Designed in 1956-1957, this bronze version was cast in a numbered edition of 3, plus 2 artist's proofs. The authenticity of this work has been confirmed by the Fondazione Marino Marini. Provenance Shell Collection, London (acquired directly from the artist in 1959). Exhibition London, Tate Gallery, temporary loan, 2 May 1961 - 17 March 1962. The Hague, Shell Campus den Haag, 2012 to present. Bibliography G. Carandente, Marino Marini. Calalogo ragionato Dell scultura, Milan, 1998, no. 427 (illustrated p. 296). H. Read, P. Waldberg & G. Di San Lazzaro, Complete Works of Marino Marini, New York, 1970, no. 345, p. 373 (illustrated p. 216). Shell International, The Shell Centre in London, The creation of a modern office paradise, London, 2023, fig. 90 (illustrated p. 74 & 75). Marino Marini's exploration of the theme of horse and rider transcends the traditional equestrian subject to become a profound meditation on the human condition, the fragility of civilisations and the collapse of certainties in the modern age. Following in the long history of the equestrian monument, from Antiquity to the Renaissance, where the mounted figure embodied authority, conquest and heroic power, Marini radically transforms this classical motif into an image of existential instability. In his early works, horse and rider still appeared to be united in a harmonious, balanced relationship. However, after the trauma of the Second World War, this balance gradually gives way to tension and disintegration. The rider gradually loses control; his body tilts into imbalance, while his outstretched arms oscillate between resistance and abandonment. The horse, once a symbol of control and order, becomes nervous, rigid and charged with psychological intensity. In Marini's own words, the horse and rider contained "the whole history of humanity", a relationship brutally fractured by the modern world and the age of the machine. In Cavallo e Cavaliere, this dramatic transformation reaches monumental intensity. The sculpture imposes itself as much by its scale as by its expressive force, recalling the existential presence of Alberto Giacometti's L'Homme qui marche while remaining deeply rooted in Marini's own plastic language. Horse and rider are locked in a state of extreme tension, with the rider seemingly suspended above the animal in an unstable and precarious position, no longer dominating his mount but simply struggling to stay upright. His elongated limbs and open gesture suggest vulnerability and anxiety rather than triumph. The horse, just as tense, freezes in an almost arrested movement; its neck tenses and its legs stiffen as if immobilised on the verge of falling. Together, the two figures become a single structure of imbalance. Marini's sculpture also evokes the violent energy of the Palio di Siena, where man and horse are united by speed, danger and instinct. But here, this relationship goes beyond mere anecdotal reference to become symbolic. The old union between man and nature seems broken, replaced by a condition of alienation and uncertainty characteristic of post-war Europe. The rider no longer dominates the animal; both now appear to be subject to forces beyond them, embodying Marini's vision of a humanity faced with catastrophe and the erosion of traditional values. The formal construction of the sculpture intensifies this emotional charge. Reduced to powerful geometric volumes and highly simplified forms, the horse and rider are articulated by angular tensions and abrupt directional forces. Each point of view suggests suspended movement and an imminent fall. The fusion between the bodies, particularly where the rider's leg merges with the horse's flank, reinforces the idea of a relationship that is both inseparable and painful between man and animal, reason and instinct, civilisation and nature. The work oscillates between control and chaos, monumentality and vulnerability, immobility and violence. The exceptional treatment of the bronze surface is equally important. After casting, Marini reworks the sculpture by hand, covering its surface with incisions, striations, chisel marks and rough passages that animate the material through the interplay of light and shadow. While these intensely worked surfaces appear frequently in his medium-sized bronzes, they are relatively rare in sculptures of such monumental proportions, making the present work particularly exceptional and unique within the artist's oeuvre. These interventions give the sculpture a tactile immediacy and expressive vitality, while evoking the appearance of an archaeological fragment shaped by the passage of centuries. The traces of plaster and pigment deliberately left on the surface were applied by the artist himself after casting, to reinforce this archaeological dimension. Rather than seeking a fixed or immaculate finish, Marini conceived sculpture as a living object, destined to evolve over time, its patina continually transforming under the effect of age and the environment. As announced in The Pipeline, Shell's in-house magazine for employees published in May 1961, the present work was acquired directly from the artist by Shell London for installation in the entrance hall of the new Shell Centre in London, designed by the architect Ernesto Rogers. Before the building opened in 1963, the sculpture was loaned to the Tate Gallery. More than half a century after its creation, Marino Marini's powerful symbolism of horse and rider retains an extraordinary contemporary resonance. The unstable figure of the rider, suspended between control and collapse, continues to embody the existential anxieties of modern humanity, as well as the fragile relationship between man, nature and the forces beyond him. With its monumental presence and enduring emotional intensity, In Cavallo e Cavaliere remains a timeless reflection on vulnerability, tension and the human condition.