My First Large Scale Sculpture

I made this piece at Portland Community College, where I was able to take a few art classes before entering the MFA program at Pacific Northwest College of Art/Oregon College of Art + Craft.

I realized I was being ambitious when I looked around me and saw that other students were tackling projects that required less physical labor. But it was what it was, and I had fun with the whole process of finding out if I could realize my vision in heavy materials.

I built a model out of foam board, so that I could see the piece from all angles. The photo above unfortunately doesn't do it justice, because the angle collapses some of the piece, but the contrast of the deep green of my Oregon yard does make it easier to see otherwise.

My instructor helped me attach the hard-to-reach screws holding the lower pieces at acute angles to the base. I almost lost all feeling in my hands while sanding down the wood after cutting it into the oval shapes with holes in them. I didn't know you need to take breaks when operating an orbital sander, and my hands when I clapped them together rang like silent bells, vibrating for longer than normal. It was a sensation I have been careful ever since not to repeat.

The color needed to be wild and almost garish, I decided. In the photo, the sun makes the top look almost yellow, but the piece is painted one color of orange.

I really wanted to incorporate some aspect of my obsession with both fiber and jewelry, and so my design included parellel strands of wire onto which I strung translucent plastic beads. The color of the beads was intended to create a complimentary balance against the bright orange. I called it "Sky Window" to draw attention to this propped up, glass-like opening, through which one could see the sky, albeit only partially.

My prior degree in landscape architecture came about because of my theory that environment profoundly affects human consciousness. I was aware of the standard landscape treatment's failure to inspire, and I would walk around noticing what snow or leaves fixed in Winter and Fall. Fragments such as garish bollards sticking up without ornamentation in front of gas pumps, chainlink fences adorned with splattered paint or chunks of drywall, raw wire telephone pole anchors, and the like seemed to me to be unintentional afterthoughts. I wondered why such a hodgepodge of landscape features and structural components are not aesthetically considered. And then I thought about how they might affect energy and thus consciousness.

IMHO, it's not the fault of the construction workers who are told to bury cables and do a patch up job without considering how it looks. It works so why bother with how it looks? I do think it should be the job of city planners and architects to design beauty into urban spaces. Whatever's happening out there in towns and cities to generate the typical result we've all seen, I think it affects our thoughts and feelings.

So I wanted to explore this in a physical object, one large enough to stand higher than most people, so that I could use it as an instrument of drawing the eye toward the sky. So often we are looking down, maybe to avoid tripping or stepping on something, but also to check out phones, tune out from other people, or hide how we're really feeling.

My next foray into large sculpture is going to be creating small gathering spaces that draw the eye up into space at night. I live in a dark sky community and also in the 4th best stargazing area in the nation, and so I have an opportunity to test my theories out on the tourists who pass this way.

I'll keep you posted.