The Sculptor and Nativity Scene Art

What you’ll find in this chapter

• Sculptor or craftsman? A title that doesn’t always tell the truth
• A memory that changes everything: *La Sculpture*
• The nativity sculptor around the world
  • Spain
  • Catalonia and Andorra
  • Germany
  • France
  • Italy
  • United States
• Provisional conclusions: a sculptor between two worlds
• Sculpture ≠ mass-produced craft
• Analogies with other art disciplines
• Author’s note: a personal reflection
• Other artistic roles: painting and costume
• Is naming correctly just a whim?
• Tradition or confusion? Time to shift
• Cultural heritage… but without sculptors?
• Shall we continue?

Sculptor or Artisan? A Title That Doesn’t Always Tell the Truth

It was hard for me to start writing this entry. Everyone knows — in principle — what a sculptor is. You picture someone in a stained coat, surrounded by tools, modeling clay, chiseling stone or carving wood in their studio. That romantic image usually suffices.

Curiously, when it comes to nativity art, things get complicated, right? Or do you think not? It seems like there’s nothing to explain.

For those who want to start creating nativity figures —whether modeling, carving or sculpting— and for collectors who appreciate originality, what follows is essential. Also for those who build the settings where the figures will be placed, it’s worth paying attention.

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What Is a “Nativity Artisan” Really?

In the world of nativity scenes, things are not always that clear. Many people think they know what a “nativity artisan” is, but in truth, that figure is surrounded by misconceptions. And explaining it without causing confusion isn’t so easy.

For days I thought maybe I should start with the intellectual property law. ^[2] Not for fun, but because it’s there that the criteria are defined to distinguish a work from a reproduction, and an author from an executor. But of course… who wants to read legal quotes in a text about nativity art?

It might seem like I’m obsessed or, worse, too eager to draw legal boundaries. That wasn’t my intention, and I got stuck.

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A Memory That Changed Everything: La Sculpture

One day, walking my dog in the forest, a memory came to me. One of those memories you don’t quite know why it surfaces—until suddenly, everything falls into place.

But not just any book. I mean a work many consider almost a bible for sculptors: La Sculpture: Méthode et vocabulaire. ^[3] Published in France as part of the national heritage inventory, it’s a key reference in the education of any sculptor.

What’s striking is that it doesn’t start with marble or clay, or with history or styles or periods.

It starts here:

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I realized I wasn’t wrong

At that moment, I knew I wasn’t so mistaken in my initial instinct. In fact, I’m almost certain that reading La Sculpture has shaped my way of thinking — perhaps without me fully realizing it.

And I understood something even deeper: that creation doesn’t begin with the hands, but with the sculptor’s background. Their experience, training, and way of seeing the world.

Now I see clearly that to truly understand the sculptor’s place in nativity art, yes, we need to start there.

And that’s what I’ll try to do in this chapter: explain it simply, without overwhelming you.

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Die Figur des Krippenbildhauers weltweit:

eine Frage der Begriffe, eine Frage des Wesens

Bevor ich weitermache, möchte ich kurz innehalten und den Blick weiten. Wenn es bereits auf lokaler Ebene Unklarheit darüber gibt, was ein Bildhauer von Krippenfiguren ist – was passiert dann außerhalb unserer Grenzen? Wie wird diese Figur in anderen Ländern mit Krippentradition genannt? Wie wird sie wahrgenommen? Als Künstler, Handwerker, Hersteller – oder etwas ganz anderes?

Diese Fragen sind nicht nebensächlich. Sie gehören zu den Gründen, warum ich dieses Handbuch nicht nur auf Spanisch, sondern auch auf Katalanisch —meiner Muttersprache und kulturellen Identität als andorranischer Bildhauer— sowie in den anderen wichtigsten Sprachen der internationalen Krippenbewegung geschrieben habe: Französisch, Italienisch, Deutsch und Englisch.

Kein Zufall: Es sind die offiziellen Sprachen der Universalis Foederatio Presepistica, dem internationalen Verband der Krippenfreunde ^[4], einer Organisation, die Vereine und Krippenliebhaber aus all diesen Ländern vereint. Und wenn wir eine gemeinsame Sprache finden wollen, müssen wir zuerst verstehen, wie man über uns, die Krippenbildhauer, in diesen Kontexten spricht.

Denn Namen sind nicht nur Wörter: sie spiegeln Weltanschauungen wider. In manchen Ländern wird der Krippenschöpfer als Künstler anerkannt. In anderen als traditioneller Handwerker. Und manchmal verschwimmt alles in generischen oder bürokratischen Begriffen, die die Tiefe und den Reichtum dieses künstlerischen Berufs verschleiern.

Deshalb schlage ich im nächsten Abschnitt eine kurze Reise durch sechs Länder vor. Ich analysiere wie man den Krippenbildhauer nennt und versteht – mit klaren und belegten Quellen. Denn wer gerecht benennen will, muss zuerst verstehen.

Spain: between art and terminological ambiguity

In Spain, the most common way to refer to those who create nativity figures is “nativity craftsman”. This term has become established in fairs, associations, and specialized publications, but it presents a fundamental issue: it does not distinguish between those who reproduce figures ("Les exécutants") and those who create them originally ("Les auteurs").

Spain: between art and terminological ambiguity

In Spain, the most common way to refer to those who create nativity figures is “nativity craftsman”. This term has become established in fairs, associations, and specialized publications, but it presents a fundamental issue: it does not distinguish between those who reproduce figures ("Les exécutants") and those who create them originally ("Les auteurs").

The term “nativity sculptor” is also used, though less frequently. It is often confined to more formal or artistic contexts, while everyday use tends to group all activities under the label of “craft”. This has led to confusion, where even those who sculpt original, signed works are still referred to as “craftsmen”, as if there were no difference between reproducing something previously created and creating an original work.

From a legal perspective, Spain’s Intellectual Property Law (Royal Legislative Decree 1/1996) ^[2] is clear: the author is the one who creates an original work. In the case of nativity figures, if a piece is sculpted with minimal originality, it is a protected work, regardless of its size or function. The law does not require an official degree or registration as an artist or craftsman. It’s enough that the original creation exists in a concrete form.

This contradiction between legal definitions and common terminology has become a blind spot within Spanish nativity culture. The term “nativity craftsman” can obscure the figure of the sculptor and erase the artistic and authorial value of original works. This has cultural, professional, and legal implications.

That’s why it’s essential to reclaim, use, and defend the expression “nativity sculptor” when referring to those who design, model, and sign original figures, even when those works are later reproduced. It’s not about personal prestige, but about naming an artistic role with the precision it deserves.

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And what does the RAE say about people who make figures?

In Spanish, there is a word that could refer to someone who makes nativity figures: figurero. But the definition provided by the Dictionary of the Spanish Language is, at best, vague:

figurero, ra (noun, masc. and fem.)
A person who makes or sells clay or plaster figures.
Source: definition from the Spanish Language Dictionary by the RAE

The problem is not only that it doesn’t distinguish between the creator and the seller, but that it reduces the craft to just two materials and automatically associates the practice with clay.

• It mentions “plaster,” ignoring that sculptors use plaster of Paris —a finer and more durable material— and overlooks common materials like resin, wax, wood, or draped fabric.
• It makes no distinction between creating and selling: whether the person is a sculptor or just a vendor is irrelevant.
• It completely omits the originality, authorship, and artistic value of the figures.

But what does the RAE mean by barro?

barro
1. n. A mass resulting from the mixture of soil and water.
2. n. Mud that forms on streets when it rains.
3. n. Malleable clay material hardened by firing, used in pottery and ceramics.
4. n. A pot or decorative object made of barro (‖ clay-based material).
5. n. Dishonor, moral degradation. To drag oneself through the barro.
6. n. Despicable thing, trifle.
Source: Spanish Language Dictionary, RAE

The dictionary refers to clay-based material but directly links it to two specific crafts: pottery and ceramics, meaning the making of containers. This is where the confusion arises: it is assumed that anyone working with clay produces utilitarian or decorative vessels such as plates, jars, or mass-produced items, whereas Nativity figures belong to a completely different field: that of sculpture and polychromy.

When a sculptor wants to model a figure in a material suitable for firing, they do not use mud, but rather clay or ceramic paste specially prepared for kiln hardening. After firing, this clay is no longer called clay or ceramic paste: it becomes known as terracotta.

In Spanish, the word barro doesn’t just refer to a raw material. It also carries figurative meanings that may feel uncomfortable or even contradictory when applied to a sacred scene. According to the RAE:

5. m. Deshonra, degradación moral. Arrastrarse por el barro.
6. m. Cosa despreciable, nonada.

Is this really what we want to evoke when we speak of figures representing the Holy Family?

This is not just a technical matter, but one of respect and accuracy. Calling them “clay figures” is not only inaccurate from a material point of view —since raw clay is neither sold nor preserved intact— but may also unintentionally suggest a sense of poverty or indignity.

But if these figures have been skillfully modeled, fired at temperatures between 900 °C and 1100 °C, and perhaps even carefully polychromed… don’t they deserve a name that is more just, more noble, more beautiful, and more precise?

Clay or terracotta?

Only one word gives dignity to that material which has overcome its fragility to become lasting. Only one word is accurate both technically and symbolically: terracotta.

terracota
1. f. Arcilla modelada y endurecida al horno.
2. f. Escultura de pequeño tamaño hecha de arcilla endurecida.
Source: Spanish Language Dictionary, RAE

Terracotta —not clay— is the finished sculptural material. It is therefore a technical mistake —and a cultural inaccuracy— to keep calling them “clay figures” when they are actually terracotta figures

Do you truly believe that Nativity figures —Baby Jesus, the Virgin Mary, Saint Joseph…— deserve to be called clay… and not terracotta?

In short: the word “figurero” exists, but it does not fairly recognize or name the work of the Nativity sculptor. That’s why clinging to terms like “figurero” or “Nativity artisan” without nuance or context is not only inaccurate: it’s unjust.

If we want Nativity art to be recognized as a cultural and artistic tradition, then we must also name with precision those who make it possible. Even if that means letting go of inherited words that no longer suffice.

Don’t you think that if we represent the birth of the One who came to bring justice, the least we can do is name with justice the one who gives Him form with their hands?

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Germany: the Krippenfigurenmacher and the protected craft legacy

In Germany, the most commonly used term to refer to those who create nativity figures is Krippenfigurenmacher ^[7], which literally means “maker of nativity figures.” This term appears in both traditional contexts and specialized catalogs and refers to those who produce figures in wood, wax, terracotta, or resin.

Germany has a rich tradition of religious figure sculptors, especially in the Bavaria and Tyrol regions, where many families pass down the craft from generation to generation. One of the most iconic names is Sebastian Osterrieder (1864–1932) ^[8], a sculptor who revolutionized nativity representation through high-quality artistic models, introducing technical and stylistic innovations that influenced all of Europe.

From a legal and professional standpoint, Germany clearly distinguishes between Handwerker (craftsman) and Künstler (artist). A Krippenfigurenmacher can belong to either category, depending on the type of work produced. If the work is repetitive and based on industrial molds, it is considered craftsmanship. If the model is original, handmade, signed, and created with artistic intent, it can be recognized as an artwork protected by German copyright law (Urheberrechtsgesetz) ^[9].

This law recognizes the creator of an original work as its author, with both moral and economic rights—even if the work has a religious or functional character. Recognition does not depend on size or material but on the creative and original nature of the model. So, while the term Krippenfigurenmacher does not itself distinguish between producer and author, the German legal framework allows a sculptor who creates original nativity figures to be fully recognized as an artist, provided the criteria of originality and artistic intention are met ^[10].

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France: the santonnier and the dignity of a recognized tradition

In France, the sculptor of nativity figures has a very specific and historically rich title: santonnier ^[11]. The term comes from the Provençal word santoun —“little saint”— and refers to those who handcraft nativity figures in the Provence region, especially in Marseille, Aubagne, or Arles. This designation is not just a local term: it is also a recognized professional and cultural identity.

The santonnier is considered an artisan, yes, but within a tradition that France has learned to value and protect. Santon fairs, like the renowned one in Marseille, don’t just sell figurines: they celebrate a form of popular expression that blends devotion, everyday life, and narrative art. Many families preserve and pass down signed figures by well-known creators, and some santonniers have achieved recognition comparable to that of a fine artist.

A notable example is Marcel Carbonel ^[13], recognized as one of the most influential santonniers of the 20th century. In 1961, the santonnière discipline was officially included in the Meilleur Ouvrier de France (MOF) competition ^[14], and Marcel Carbonel was the first to earn that distinction in his category. In 2003, he was named Chevalier de la Légion d'honneur, a distinction from the French state in recognition of his contribution to the nation’s cultural and artistic heritage.

French law also offers a clear framework. Regarding authorship, the creator of the original model is recognized as the “author”, even if the figure is later reproduced in series. This distinction aligns with the principle outlined in the book La Sculpture: Méthode et vocabulaire, which states that the sculptor who conceives and models an original is the holder of copyright, even if the reproduction is delegated to others.

Thus, the French case shows that it is possible to retain the term “artisan” without diminishing the artistic value of the creator. The key lies in the cultural and legal recognition of authorship. A santonnier can be considered an artist in the eyes of their community, collectors, and the law, because the word “santonnier” carries a respected tradition and because the country has cultivated a heritage-sensitive appreciation of these practices.

The contrast with the generic use of “nativity artisan” in other contexts is telling. In France, the term santonnier honors both the craft and the act of creation.

What do French dictionaries reveal?

In France, the term «santonnier» is well established. According to the Le Robert dictionary, it is defined as:

santonnier, santonnière (nom)
Artisan qui fabrique des santons.
“Artisan who makes santons.”

Source: Le Robert

The synonyms listed for “santon” include figurine, sculpture, and statuette, which indicates that, although it is a religious and popular object, it is also a form of sculpture.

So why isn’t the santonnier also recognized as an artist? Where is the line drawn?

The answer seems to lie less in the nature of the work and more in linguistic and social prejudice. The word “artisan” sounds humble and respectable but often implies a repetitive rather than a creative role. The word “artist,” by contrast, evokes authorship, intellect, and composition.

The confusion is old, but not innocent: if we define the santonnier solely as an artisan, even when they model their own originals, we are denying their status as an author.

France, however, offers an interesting model: despite the use of the word “artisan,” the legal and cultural recognition granted to figures like Marcel Carbonel shows that authorship can and should coexist with tradition. Naming with justice—even when using traditional terms—is possible, provided it is paired with respect for the artistic value of original creation.

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Italy: the maestro figuraio between tradition and art

In Italy, especially in regions such as Naples and Tuscany, those who create nativity figures are known as artigiani del presepe or figuraio^[15], depending on local traditions. These terms reflect both manual skill and the symbolic and artistic value these figures hold in Italian popular culture.

In Tuscany, the term figuraio became established in the 19th and 20th centuries to refer to those who made terracotta figures, often in religious or popular contexts. In Naples, the most common term at fairs and associations is artigiano del presepe, without always making a clear distinction between the original modeler and the reproducer.

Although the word “artisan” is most common in everyday language, Italy legally recognizes the artistic value of original figures through its Codice dei beni culturali e del paesaggio^[17]. This regulation allows even contemporary works to be protected if they carry significant cultural or identity value.

As in France, the respect for tradition and artistic quality has generated a positive social perception of the craft, even though the terms remain generic. The key lies in the emotional, heritage, and spiritual connection these figures maintain with the Italian Christmas identity.

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United States: Adopted Tradition and Institutional Recognition

In the United States, there is no consolidated native tradition of nativity figure making as a distinct artistic or artisanal craft, as exists in Europe. However, the country has adopted and integrated many expressions of nativity scene culture, especially through collections, museums, and institutional displays.

The most emblematic case is the Neapolitan Baroque Crèche at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. This scene, composed of 18th-century figures, is exhibited every Christmas alongside a large tree decorated with baroque angels. Originating from the collection of Eugenio Catello, it was donated by Loretta Hines Howard in 1964 and represents a museum adaptation of the Neapolitan nativity ^[18].

The Carnegie Museum of Art in Pittsburgh also presents a Neapolitan nativity scene each year, featuring over 100 human and angelic figures made between 1700 and 1830 ^[19].

In addition, the organization Friends of the Crèche ^[20], based in the U.S. and Canada, promotes appreciation of nativity scenes through international meetings, publications, and a network of collectors.

In their own definition, they present themselves as a “society of collectors and enthusiasts dedicated to the artistry, display, and traditions of the Christmas Nativity.”

They don’t speak of craftsmanship. They speak of art, artistic skill. This is not a minor detail, but a clear reflection of how, in some contexts, the creation of nativity figures is perceived as a fully-fledged artistic act.

Although the term “sculptor” is not specifically associated with nativity figure makers in the American context, the artistic dimension of original European works is recognized. The U.S. protects artistic authorship under federal copyright law, but the creation of original nativity figures is not yet a distinct professional category in the country.

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Country	Term Used	Artist or Artisan?	Legal protection as author
Spain	Artesano belenista / Nativity sculptor	Terminological ambiguity	✔ Intellectual Property Law
Andorra / (Catalonia)	Figurista / Nativity sculptor	Recognized as artist in specialized settings	✔ Spanish law + Cultural recognition
France	Santonnier	Artisan with artistic prestige	✔ Clear distinction between author and performer
Italy	Pasturaio / Figuraio	Artisan with artistic recognition	✔ Code of Cultural Heritage
Germany	Krippenfigurenmacher	Depends on the type of work	✔ Copyright if originality is met
USA	Sculptor / Nativity artist	Pragmatic ambiguity	✔ U.S. Copyright Act

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Provisional Conclusions: a Sculptor Between Two Worlds

After this international overview, it is clear that the nativity sculptor holds an ambiguous position in many contexts. Although all the countries analyzed offer legal protection for original works, the terminology and cultural recognition vary significantly.

In some places, the nativity sculptor is recognized as an artist; in others, as a craftsman; and in many cases, the two roles blur with no clear distinction. This confusion is not innocent: it has practical, legal, and symbolic consequences. It affects authorship recognition, the possibility of protecting works, their market value, and how the sculptor perceives themselves.

That’s why it is so important to establish —clearly and with solid grounding— a distinction between two inseparable yet distinct planes: the sculptor as artist, and the production of figures. This is not a matter of personal prestige but of naming an artistic role with the precision it deserves.

Before moving on, let us recall an essential principle that true sculpture experts have long understood: the ability to distinguish between the author and the executor.
We already explored this in the Spanish context; now we return to it because it is a fundamental rule applicable in any country and in any serious discussion of sculpture, and therefore, in the first and truest link of the nativity scene tradition.
Here is once again the index from the book *La Sculpture*. Experts know it. Do you?

If there was still any doubt, here’s why this distinction is essential.

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Sculpture ≠ production craft

This distinction is key to understanding nativity figures as works of art.

Another common misconception: the idea that because the figures are small, mass-produced, or associated with nativity scenes, they aren’t “art.”

Every figure originates from a hand-modeled or hand-carved original, which requires training, style, and artistic decision-making. And any figure that shows a minimum level of originality is protected by law, whether it’s 5 cm or 7 meters tall. The law doesn’t require a degree or artisan registration: it’s enough to create something original for authorship to exist.

Calling the sculptor who creates an original nativity figure a “nativity craftsman” is like calling Goya, Rembrandt, or Picasso a “printing craftsman” because they made engravings. It’s not just a misunderstanding: it’s a loss of perspective on what it means to create.

A clear example of a limited edition:

The sculpture "Jaume Plensa 61" is a limited edition of 2,998 pieces —a number difficult to reach, if not impossible, even for most nativity sculptors—, each one numbered and signed by the artist. It includes a molded rigid polyurethane sculpture-case representing the face of a girl with closed eyes, an iconic image in Plensa’s artistic universe. Although the artist does not personally participate in the production of each piece, the work is recognized as art, not as craft or industrial production.

This case shows that mass production and the materials used do not strip a work of its artistic value. The key lies in the authorship, the original design, and the artistic intention behind the creation.

In the nativity scene world, nativity figures—even when mass-produced—are the result of a creative and artistic process. Reducing them to mere handcrafted goods —I’ve even heard them referred to as knick-knacks— or industrial products ignores the value and intention of the sculptor who conceived them.

Therefore, it is essential to acknowledge and value the authorship and artistic nature of nativity figures, regardless of the method of production.

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Sorry to insist, but it's essential to understand this concept so that nativity scene making doesn't end up as just another Christmas decoration.

Analogies with Other Artistic Disciplines

Writer ⇩	Sculptor ⇩	Singer-songwriter ⇩
Writes the original manuscript ⇩	Models the original sculpture ⇩	Composes the original song ⇩
Sends it to a publisher or printer to make copies, or self-publishes (e.g., on Amazon) ⇩	Has copies of the sculpture made (molds, castings), or makes them himself ⇩	Records the song in a studio, or records and sells it himself online ⇩
Produces printed books ⇩	Produces copies of the sculpture ⇩	Produces copies of the record ⇩
Still the author and creator ⇩	Still the author and creator ⇩	Still the author and creator ⇩
Recognized as a writer, not a book craftsman ✔	The sculptor is still called a nativity artisan ❌	Recognized as a singer-songwriter, not a CD craftsman ✔

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Other Artistic Roles: Painting and Costuming

Although the sculptor is the original creator of the nativity figure, in many cases the work is completed thanks to the intervention of other artists or executors, or it is the sculptor themselves who takes on the different phases of the process, changing technical roles but not intellectual authorship.

In practice, today’s nativity scene landscape is roughly divided into three situations:

• Solo sculptors, who carry out all phases: modeling, carving, mold making, reproduction, painting, and even dressing the figure if needed.
• Small two- or three-person or family workshops, where each member has a specialized role (sculptor, mold maker, painter, costume designer).
• Workshops with multiple executors, where the sculptor coordinates the work of others.

Figures are usually painted or dressed — they are not delivered in their raw modeled form.

1. Polychromy

The painting may be done by:

• The sculptor themselves (the sole author of both modeling and painting).
• Another artist or collaborator, who contributes their pictorial art or applies color under direction.
• Workshop executors (painters acting as artisans, repeating a pre-designed model) working under the sculptor’s direction or supervision.

2. Clothing

• Fabric draper, who directly shapes the cut and form of the clothing on the figure using treated fabrics. Done by the sculptor or a collaborating artist.
• Clothing designer, who creates garment patterns adapted to the figures. Done by the sculptor or a collaborating artist.
• Workshop executors, acting as artisans who repeat a pre-designed model under the direction or supervision of the sculptor or fabric draper.

As you may have noticed, a nativity figure can go through several creative stages and involve different technical roles. Wouldn’t it make more sense to speak of a nativity sculpture workshop or artistic nativity work, rather than reducing everything to the term "nativity artisan"?

 Is naming things correctly just a whim?

It means acknowledging the origin and true value of each creation.
That’s called respect. And also empathy.

 Each process has its role; but only one conceives the work. That is the sculptor.

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Tradition or confusion? Time to change

Throughout history, many traditions have endured without being questioned, even when circumstances had completely changed. Some lasted for centuries before someone dared to say, “Maybe this no longer makes sense”.

This is not about making direct comparisons —since every case is unique—, but about inviting reflection: what happens when a tradition no longer reflects the reality it names? Isn’t that the time to give new words to what has already changed?

Is there any real obstacle to start calling “Nativity sculptors” those who create original figures for the crèche? Probably not… or at least there shouldn’t be! So why do we keep using the term “Nativity artisan,” even when talking about creators of unique original pieces?

In fact, if we look at official dictionaries in different languages, we’ll find that the word “artisan” is fairly unanimously defined as someone who performs manual work, reproduced through traditional techniques, without conceptual innovation.

• Real Academia Española (Spanish): “A person who practices a purely mechanical art or trade.”
• Duden (German): “A person who practices a manual trade.”
• Larousse (French): “A person who carries out manual work using a traditional technique independently.”
• Treccani (Italian): “Someone who produces goods manually or with simple tools, without mass production or machinery.”
• Merriam-Webster (English): “A worker who practices a trade or craft, typically producing in small quantities using traditional methods.”
• DIEC (Catalan): “A person who makes artisanal works.”

As we can see, the notion of "craftsman" is associated with the manual execution of objects, not with original artistic creation.

Calling a nativity sculptor who creates, models, and signs his own figures a “craftsman” is not a matter of respect or affection for tradition, but a conceptual confusion that hides the true artistic value of the nativity scene.

This can lead to an inevitable conclusion: if we keep calling the creator of nativity figures a “nativity craftsman,” we are saying, even if unconsciously, that both the creators of the figures and the creators of the scenes are merely making holiday decorations — and nothing more.

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Cultural heritage… but without sculptors?

So how can we explain the insistence of federations and most nativity associations on having nativity scene traditions recognized as cultural heritage? ^{[24] [25]} Even by international organizations like UNESCO? ^[26]

Isn't it contradictory that, while seeking such recognition, the very people who make the nativity scene possible as we know it — those who sculpt the figures — are rendered invisible?

And those who create these figures, who conceive them thanks to their artistic background and sign them as authors, are sculptors.