AUSTRIAN HOLOCAUST MEMORIAL BY BRITISH SCULPTOR RACHEL WHITEREAD UNVEILED IN VIENNA

CITY SCULPTOR IN THE COUNTRY
For Sculptor, 6,400 nickels add up to $320--or an $18,000 couch
GA Library Settles with Sculptor
Mara Haseltine A sculptor who looks inside to find hermuse
Olowe of Ise--sculptor to kings
PORTRAIT of the Sculptor
Ruth Duckworth Modernist Sculptor
Sculptor adopts rapid prototyping technology
Skyline Sculptor
Texas sculptor creates original garden statue
THE BANANA SCULPTOR, THE PURPLE LADY, AND THE ALL-NIGHT SWIMMER
The Garden of Art Vic Cicansky, Sculptor
The Poetic Vision of Spanish Sculptor Eduardo Chillida
YOU MIGHT BE A SCULPTOR IF

FRIENDS SITES

CITY SCULPTOR IN THE COUNTRY

Recently, functional potter Jeff Oestreich, who lives in rural Minnesota, offered me the opportunity to work with him in his studio for two weeks. As a native of New York City, this invitation brought several "firsts" for me: two weeks of uninterrupted claywork, visiting the Midwest, mixing 750 pounds of clay from powder, stacking and firing a salt kiln, and driving a John Deere lawn mower.

Jeff lives on 45 acres of land at the end of a dirt road in a farmhouse behind a stand of pine trees. He purchased the house 25 years ago, and has done all the renovations (new woodwork, electrical work and plumbing) himself. He also built a separate building to house the studio, glaze and kiln rooms, and a showroom.

Jeff's pots are primarily wheel thrown, frequently altered into square or oval shapes, and sometimes faceted. His sense of design is very strong. The "play" between form, three-dimensional cutouts and additions, and two-dimensional glaze shapes initiates a conversation that carries on throughout his work.

Despite our different starting points, Jeff and I found a great deal of common ground to discuss both the imagery and technique in our work. I must say that I was viewed as a "city slacker" until he learned that I regularly have to carry 50 pounds of clay on the subway and up four flights of stairs.

I have been using animal imagery in my work for some time, depicting deer, lions, birds, fish, insects and more. I used this two-week period with Jeff to develop sculptures based on the fable The Tortoise and the Hare.

For me, the tortoise signifies my slow, deliberate and planning side (I carry pens in my pocket and make lists every day), while the rabbit symbolizes my fast, passionate and unpredictable side (I am high-energy, get a lot done and display, at times, a passionate temperament). In all of my sculptures, I add a human figure as a stand-in for myself.

The first piece in the series is called "The Judge." Initially, I saw myself as the judge of the race. I positioned the human figure in the center, with the tortoise and the hare on pedestals on either side, ready to start the race. In hindsight, I see that I emphasized my role and my presumed importance as a human over animals--a judge, in the center, larger in scale and more pronounced in color.

For the next piece, "Three Runners," I wanted more action. I began thinking about how the tortoise and the hare ran the race, and how it symbolized an ongoing struggle with time in my own life. (Which approach to one's life yields the greatest results being plodding and deliberate, or being quick and passionate?) I visualized the characters poised to leap into action. The human figure joined them, eager to accomplish what he could.

The tortoise was posed chin up, ready for anything. While forming him, I experimented a bit more with the texture of his reptilian skin, and his color is a bit more vibrant.

I also studied the hare's musculature a bit more closely. Placement of the hare in the kiln where the soda enters achieved a mottled color that evokes the texture of fur.

The human figure has an animallike quality; here, he functions as an equal to the other two. There is no guarantee that the human is the most likely winner of this race.

I also made a clay roller to produce relief images of the tortoise and the hare, using a technique that New York artist Sana Musasama learned during travels in Africa. A leather-hard cylinder is carved and fired. The deeper the carving, the higher the relief when the cylinder is rolled onto a soft slab of clay.

The pedestal for "Three Runners" was handbuilt from slabs of clay impressed by the roller. My goal was to add complexity to the piece without distracting from the figures.

Additionally, I have been using slabs impressed with these rollers to create squared forms, flat wall plaques, and cylindrical forms that loosely parallel shapes achieved by throwing on the wheel. This has created an ongoing dialogue in my work. How best to apply this technique is something I think about daily, and has led to some stimulating discussions with Jeff and other clay artists.

The third piece in the series is called "Canoe." Initially, I interpreted the fable as representing getting from point A to point B, or achieving a goal. One of the most successful aspects of this piece for me is that the hare, true to his quick, able nature, appears to be the one in command, telling the rower (me) what to do. However, upon closer inspection, the tortoise is poised right behind me, and can easily and subtly whisper his own intentions into my ear.

I began this piece at a smaller scale than the first two, originally intending it as a gestural maquette. To my surprise, I progressively detailed each figure further and further, until the sculpture was complete.

Unlike the other pieces, this one has no formal "pedestal." However, the canoe serves to unify the composition and suggest that the surface on which the piece sits is "water" beneath the canoe.

With "The Judge," I saw myself as the judge of the race. In "Three Runners," I became one of the competitors. In the final piece, "Canoe," I appear to be guiding the canoe, but the tortoise and the hare are giving me directions. One observer suggested that this shows a progression toward humility. I went from judge, to competitor, to being told what to do.