Sculpture
is “theater in the round”, a celebration of form that reflects the human
experience and prods the spirit to rise.
That is true for the artist as well as the audience. Sculpture,
with its tactile allure and myriad of viewpoints, insists that you explore the
work and invent your own impressions. It is sculpture that begs you to look around the corner
to see what's on the backside. The "continuum" takes you there.
There's a guide to my work.
It's called the "continuum". Think of it as drawing without lifting the
pencil. I attempt to create bits and pieces that lead one
to the next; elements that tease your eye and demand your attention. Enticing
the audience, instead of forcing it to find its own way, keeps the viewer
from tiring and moving on.
My abstractions of the
graceful, droll, often “quirky nature” of nature, rarely miss an opportunity to
opt for form over reality. One of my birds has three wings. Nobody has called
me on that, yet, but getting away with things isn’t really my way. It’s an artist’s responsibility to
constantly challenge the work’s ability to explain itself. The creating can lead you astray and "you’ve gotta know when to hold’em and
know when to fold’em.” I
believe that good enough is not
good enough.
There's a thread of humor
in some of my sculpture. If you get too serious about your work, you run the risk of losing your
direction, your audience, and sometimes, your mind. I have pieces like Birds of a Feather, A Bitter
Pill, A Bird in the Hand, Galileo, and Roadrunner that demonstrate my need to
occasionally lighten up.
For me, the excitement comes in creating the
armatures in wire and steel that are the linear implication of the forms to
follow. I marvel at the manipulation of shapes by the barest twist or turn, the
continuous movement of the material, and the great surprises that occur while
constructing these wonderful skeletons. Puddling the steel, molding the resin,
the endless filling and sanding are both drudgery and delight. The reward is
the work completed…”as I see it.”
