Our world is moving at lightening speed. The 2019 way of being no longer exists and adaptation is imperative. Now is the time for searching out new answers to old problems, evolving the way we perform and re-evaluating goals. Humans are creative beings and that is not a talent belonging solely to artists. The most challenging times hold the seeds for transformation, amazing growth and answers to our most perplexing questions. We can meet the test of our time, but not with old solutions that no longer work. Governments can and should be more responsive to the needs of its citizens. With creative solutions it is also possible for corporations to make profits for shareholders while addressing the plight of ordinary citizens and the environment. Our times can no longer afford shareholder interests to outweigh all others. Answer the call to create a new world.
And to artists the world over, don’t forget in this time of crisis that as a creative you have an obligation to communicate to the world through your art. Yes we are going to suffer in various ways. Use your time now to expand your mind, honor your visions and sing your wisdom. This hour too shall pass and then you will be prepared for the new world, its challenges and gifts.
As I continue work on my memoir, Robin is fast at work in the metal studio. Unfortunately some shows are being cancelled, check our web-site for the latest on the schedule. Some of his new work, with descriptions below each:
“A Time Piece I” 18″ sq. copper clad over bentwood form, hammered, chemical patina, pocket watch gears. $950
12″ Sq Fold formed copper & stainless steel w/ multiple chemical patinas $350
In the depths of Winter Robin and I are each pursuing our own goals. Robin is showing solo, a decision we made jointly last year. He has come to like cladding copper over wooden supports–it is much lighter weight than his previous work. Before we began collaborating 6 or 7 years ago, his sculpture was a much heavier copper, brass or steel sheet that he mounted onto bronze or steel angle framework. He still intends to do some of that, but most of his new work will be copper cladding. We had to stop showing his former work because I had three accidents, one surgery and one broken bone all in one year and could no longer safely help him load and unload the van, set up the booth, etc. So, yes I wrecked his career, just when he was creating marvelous work, getting into all of the top shows and winning important awards. As I type I can hear him in his studio, tap.tap.tap In two weeks he’ll be headed for Winter Park, FL for their wonderful show. He will be taking new work that you can see here in progress:
2′ x 5′ Bentwood, copper clad
Several new 12″ Expressions undergoing patination
Meanwhile I’m having a bit of a second childhood playing in clay. My latest sculpture is one with the working title “Tree Woman”. She’s small, only just over a foot tall, without a pedestal. Haven’t decided how she will be finished after firing.
Making art is what I do to cope with life… to maintain balance. I’ve been an artist since I was a child, making music on the piano and organ and spending hours each week in the ballet studio. At the age of 22 I began painting in earnest and later finished a BFA in painting and drawing. While in art school I spent a year hand-building clay sculpture. They were organic, abstract raku pieces. I began my first series of clay torsos in 2009. They were all headless and obviously hollow. The viewer could peer inside their bodies through arm, leg and neck holes. I called these sculptures body vessels because the body is a vessel for our soul, our emotions, our hopes and desires but also because the term implies an inside and outside. Our body becomes the reflection of where we’ve been. At the time, I wrote that “The series had been birthed from a lifetime of both pain and ecstasy as a daughter, sister, lover, wife, mother and friend. All the roles I’ve lived are the source for these hand-built clay sculptures. My struggle is the struggle of ‘woman’….I understand that for some the contemplation of these forms is unpleasant, however I would say that they reflect the ephemeral nature of life, they call into question the importance we place on our bodily image and they are a powerful metaphor for the difficulty of the journey through life for each of us, body and spirit.”
All of those thoughts still apply to the latest sculpture I’m working on, however the latest one has grown a head. I’m thinking along the line of divisions. Divisions in society, family, country. Those divisions of family, race and economic status all inflict scars. Ones hands can hold you up or down and in her case she has no way of grasping or defending herself. Her shoulder caps lift upwards as though they are mini wings. She’s without lower legs and feet and so has lost her mobility. Unlike “Lady Liberty” who strides forth, undeterred.
Ask any artist and you’re likely to be told that they’re inspired by nature. It’s a given. Nature is full of wonder and for artists it provides an impetus to create. We see color, line, form and texture and it gets incorporated into our drawing, painting, and sculpting.
When Robin and I moved onto our 20 acres of woodlands, we immediately began sculpting the landscape by adding shrub borders, flowers and vines. We relied heavily, though not exclusively on native species in order to support an abundance of wildlife. Using the “architecture” of the rolling landscape and the tall trees we were blessed with, we’ve created habitat for more pollinators–bees, butterflies, moths, and birds. We’ve added water features for amphibians, reptiles, dragonflies and fish. Brush piles in various places in the deep woods provide habitat for mammals. It’s all good for the health of the environment.
A walk through the “yard” area (approximately 3.5 acres) surrounding the house and studios will give you glimpses of countless species of birds, lizards, amphibians, fish and mammals. The sights, sounds and smells provide a soothing experience of nature at its best. We can not help but be inspired to create work that embodies the balance, texture, colors and forms of Mother Nature. Our collaborative work is all about these things. It is a discipline based on meditation. From the crackled surface of the pond mud to the bark on the trees:
Another August is passing. This one has been very productive in that I’ve designed a two new series of boats, The Hanging Boats and The Flying Boats. I expect to have three Hanging Boats completed to show at The Philadelphia Museum Show in November. One of them is an ode to youth lost too soon. It will hang by silk threads and butterflies. An artist doesn’t escape from their life experience. Our lives get intertwined with our art making and so our art, our personal life and our business is forged together.
So my concept began with the idea of using the female torso sculpted in clay to express the nature of our relationship to the rest of the planet. Historically, humans have related to the creative force of the universe anthropomorphically. It’s a concept that makes sense to us on several levels. And in the 20th Century there was a theory put forth by the chemist James Lovelock and the microbiologist Lynn Margulis in the 1970’s. On its most basic level it is the idea that the Earth is a living organism, of which we are a part. It’s a theory that’s never garnered much appreciation, however it had a big and positive impact on my world view.
Loosely interpreted, the theory can support the image of Earth as our mother, a goddess, that provides us with an idyllic world in which to thrive. Now that we humans have the capability to destroy that world, it begs the question what are we going to do with that power?
And so for this first sculpture I chose to start in a very straightforward manner, marrying the image of the goddess’ body with a garden. And so early last month I started hand-building the earthenware. I use a grey clay, that fires white–the perfect base for later finish work with colored pigments. It’s been 2 years since I last worked in clay, and I am anxious, impatient and rusty. The result is I built the slabs a little too quickly at first, resulting in some slumping. My philosophy is that what I lack in skill, I have to make up in creative adaptation. What began like this,
ended up looking much more voluptuous like the Venus of Willendorf, which appealed to me anyway, so I moved on to the making of the garden.
The clay calls to me. That’s how it’s always been, since I was little, playing with the mud, making pies and things. That feel of the wet clay is powerful. That you can make something awesome from it is the seduction. I’ve been on a lifelong journey though I’ve not always recognized the path. Often it looked to me as though life was just happening and that there wasn’t any meaningful way. Like a bunch of unrelated incidents loosely clumped together called “my life”. At other times it seemed that events were taking me on a course I didn’t want to traverse. But I can see more clearly now. That is the blessing of age. I’ve followed a course that has a goal and all of the steps before have been necessary to bring together the skills and experience and philosophy and wisdom to accomplish my purpose in this life.
Though I had always had a close connection to the landscape and nature, I had little regard for environmental issues before my late 20’s. And even then it was more a sense of the power of nature and an appreciation for her beauty. It wasn’t until I discovered The Gaia Theory, the way of indigenous peoples, Jungian archetypes and Joseph Campbell’s theories that I began to see a connection to be made with my art and what I deemed important in this life. As the years went by, much of my work reflected these studies. I painted mythical landscapes and made mandala-like sculptures inspired by sacred geometry and celestial bodies. Sprinkled throughout were anguished self-portraits, lucrative design pieces for the wall that made it possible to care for this sacred land we call home and studio, and most recently boats and nests and books wrought with symbolic imagery.
But still she calls to me. The goddess speaks to me through the clay and it’s clear now what I can and will do. It all comes down to the most pressing issue of our time, namely the environment. We are destroying the natural world at an increasing rate to fuel our consumer mentality. To ignore the fate of the planet at this juncture in time spells disaster for life on Earth. To act now in a responsible way is all that truly matters. And quite simply, my purpose, the reason I was born into this life was to help awaken people to the crisis. If I can alter the mindset of a few people, I will succeed in doing my small part, and together with other artists and teachers and scientists we can save the planet. The Earth Goddess is the soul of our living planet, of which we are a part, and she’s calling to us.
So while I will continue to collaborate with Robin making boats and other mixed media sculpture, I’m squeezing time in here and there to play in the mud. I began a new clay figure recently and we’ll see where it goes. I’ll post more as she moves along.
As we’ve stated in the past, we are inspired by the boat shape as a sculptural form because of the deep meaning associated with boats as the symbol for the spiritual journey. Each of us takes our own path through life and into the next. As our paths are so very different, then our attraction to a specific boat’s shape, size, details and color also varies. We see that in the spirit of each boat we design and make. Here’s a sampling of our latest. See the details on each boat on our web-site, under collaborative work: www.WolfCreekStudio.com
“Amber Ark” She’s sleek, chic & a world traveler
“Yellow Dugout Canoe” Vessel for the loner’s journey
When it comes to making art, not all pieces are equal. No matter how long you’ve been creating, the process is never the same, the results are not predictable. Copying something is one thing, creating something new is entirely different. So Robin and I have been working on a series of sculptures around the theme of books. Books and art are full of meaning and it seems natural to us to combine the two to play off of each other. Back in June I made a backplate in a crackled finish that I painted to resemble a gaseous star galaxy, not unexpected from me since much of my work the past 15 years or so has been inspired at least partially by our place in the cosmos. Resting on it I placed three “tablets” with copper books on them. As soon as Robin saw the finished piece he immediately said, “Oh, it’s The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy!” I loved it and thus it was signed an named so.
We took it to Ann Arbor and it was well received, but it didn’t find a home. However, on Labor Day weekend in Chicago a lady asked permission to take a photo to show her husband. She later called and asked us to bring it by. The house was full of people celebrating a birthday. There were oohs and ahs over the piece, not only because it is beautiful, but the home it found was perfect in every way. The lines, the colors and the materials meshed with and complimented those in the beautiful room it now resides in. We couldn’t be happier with the results. But people make a story and this couple is very special. He is in hospice, and “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” is his metaphorical roadmap.
I’ve a penchant for symbolism and “The Crow’s Nest” is full of it. Aside from the boat being a symbol of the journey of the soul and the nest symbolizing the home and security, this sculpture has a more personal story. Robin is fond of telling the story of how I proposed to him on our first date when I found out he had a 17′ Old Town canoe. We’re also very aware of the significance in the adage “don’t miss the boat”. This sculpture is a marriage of our lives. The shape of this boat is entirely Robin’s design and I love the sleek lines. He carved it and gave it to me to texture and paint. Together we designed the pedestal upon which the boat rests. It’s structure is a pleasing arc but massive enough to create a stable foundation. On the boat rests a copper crow’s nest–a metaphor for not only a sailing ship’s lookout, but the home for Robin’s old crow, namely me. And when the nest came to rest there, is when the boat became a vessel.