My art is a means of expressing my reactions to the world around and within me. Through clay I use symbolic and literal representations to build layers of meaning. Objects serve symbolic and literal roles in my work. The dichotomy of people’s lives; their inner turmoil and outer passivity, or conversely their outer struggles masking an inner void, are thematic undercurrents in my representational works. Of the many inspirations I draw from, Bosch, Breughel, and Dali lay buried in my psyche, influencing all I do. Their depictions of life and the state of their fellow man are never simplified, diluted stylized representations. First and foremost they exhibited consummate mastery of medium and craftsmanship, through which they related the complexities of the world around them with intelligence, humor, and biting sarcasm. Creating art is an encompassing process for me; convoluted, messy… emotional and spiritual, destructive yet renewing… often physically exhausting. I may glimpse an image in my mind’s eye, or be impelled to react to a feeling or vague notion smoldering inside. I tease out bits through pencil sketches, written descriptions, or poetry. Then I sketch maquettes in clay, or bits of wire and paper, return to pencil, leaf through old sketches, write out more descriptions, pull out charcoals for large format renderings. At times I explore stream-of-conscious through clay, tracing out what the mud reveals. Or I make masks, (I enjoy making small, expressive faces.) I collect detritus, bits and pieces, gristle for the idea mill. Rearrange old discarded pieces, add something, take it away, get disgusted and in a frenzy set about cleaning the studio, (symbolically clearing my mind,) and start again. I always enjoyed making art as a child, but found drawing a chore. I really had to work at it. But the first time I worked with clay, I was hooked. I began forming and reshaping forms and caricatures in clay as easily as an old friend sketched on paper. But that was child’s play, warm-up exercises, the connection went beyond that. Clay spoke to me, and my hands translated thoughts and instinctual feelings through it. I’d found my muse, and it was mud, dirt. I’ve explored numerous other wonderful media and techniques, but I always return to mother earth! In my series "The Business of Bizniz", I began with studies of masked animals dressed in suits, (sharks, alligators, a fox.) This led to masked businessmen, but I was dissatisfied with their impact and scale as individual figures, so I started stacking them one atop another. This led to my further ruminations on the corporate world in ever increasing complexity of detail and symbolic sarcasm. The characters in these sculptures lead hectic, oppressed lives, and are defined by their work, which is dull and degrading. Frenzied characters harass each other in their struggle to maintain their precariously balanced position atop the hierarchy. Corporate leaders assume yoga positions while texting, nonchalantly stepping on another’s back. I completed a series of four towers 18” tall of absurd, pathetic workers, finishing the surfaces in white satin porcelain sigillata. I then set to work on a grand Totem seven feet tall, “Caesar Astride the Tower of Babel,” comprised of four hollow sections stacked one atop the other, with a support rod running up the inside mounted on a concrete base. It is a flurry of frozen motion, intricately detailed, with a host of individual characters, each more absurd than the last, culminating in a corpulent man-beast, clawing with its talons at papers it stuffs into the filing compartments in the back of its monstrous head. Rolls of flesh splay over those below propping him up. A latch opens atop one man’s head, filled with spaghetti, or is that worms? Out of another’s head rats scamper. Everyone struggles to balance computers on stilts, while checking smartphones or tablets perched on their feet. My most recent works, lined up to enter the kiln in my studio, are a departure from the narrative representational Totems I described above, which I plan to return to in the near future to explore other themes and forms, but I felt I needed to “cleanse the creative palate.” My imagination periodically demands a break from the cacophonous imagery of my representational works, so I turn to sweeping ribbon-like curves and intricate weaving forms. I have fashioned flower abstractions from extruded slabs and coils, reminding me of iron railing, but to be hung on the wall. It is as much an exercise in process and technique, as an exploratory hiatus for me as I ruminate over plans of other more complicated future projects.
Work in progress; "Caesar Astride the Tower of Babel."
Hot out the kiln; "Caesar Astride the Tower of Babel."