Jan 8, 2014
New Construction, marble, 8 x 46 x 14 in.
Ever since I showed the first New Construction piece (the cinder block), people have been telling me: “You should carve a brick! You should carve a brick!”
People are always telling me what I should carve and sometimes they are right. But in this case, honestly–that didn’t sound very interesting. Conceptually it made sense; bricks are another modern material being used to replace what once would have been marble. I am always saddened when I see a set of bricks slapped up where stone steps once existed stoops (particularly those new smooth and perfect bricks that lack any of the charm of the aged and irregular bricks that new-old-homeowners are always exposing). And, more often than not, the bricks aren’t even laid well! And, one or two steps on the outer edges are usually missing or have been re-set at one time or another.
Yet still, “a brick” was still not interesting enough to compel me to just carve one out of stone . . . Then I remembered something that one of my grad school professors, Ming Fay, said during a group crit: “If you are going to do something simple — do a lot of it.”
It then occurred to me that unlike a cinder block, a single brick is not very structurally or sculpturally dynamic, but like a cinder block they are meant to be used in concert. So I decided to just illustrate the thing that I was hoping to speak against: a step made of bricks that was once a step of marble.
New Construction, marble, 8 x 46 x 14 in.
This proved to be quite a challenge. On one hand this is one of the rawest sculptures that I’ve ever done; the broken edge and the un-finished, roughly tooled interior sides were left un-re-carved. On the other hand, because I was trying to represent a series of nearly perfect and identical objects assembled together imperfectly, the piece was extremely technically demanding. I spent a lot of time removing very small amounts of stone to make sure that right angles were actually right angles. Add to that the fact that this particular stone had a wide vein of some of the hardest minerals present in nature.
It would have actually been far easier to carve a series of bricks that were aligned perfectly rather than a series of bricks that are slightly out of kilter. This is definitely the kind of piece that owes credit to my trainers at Manassas Granite & Marble, Inc. who, during my apprenticeship, instilled the technical skills and discipline of the craft of carving that now allow me the ability to make this kind of sculptural work.
So while one carved brick would probably be pretty lame — I’m hoping that twenty-six carved bricks are not.
New Construction, marble, 8 x 46 x 14 in.
Jul 24, 2013
For those who missed it or don’t get the Smithsonian Channel, the documentary that was produced about the Renwick Gallery’s 40 Under 40 exhibition is now available FREE online through iTunes!
This film included a feature filmed in my studio at Hilgartner Natural Stone Company as well as footage taken by videographer Tobin Herringshaw.
Jan 10, 2013
Piggy, marble and found objects, 8 x 8 x 8 in
This second “Birthstone” is based on the beloved former toy of a couple’s small child.
The original “Piggy” was literally loved-to-death. The little tike pulled on Piggy’s music string so many times that the once cheerful tune morphed into a kind of “funeral dirge,” according to her father. Since the original Piggy had been replaced with a new Piggy, this allowed me the opportunity to not only make a sculpture based on an object with personal significance, but one that actually incorporated artifacts from that object.
This piece presented a lot of structural and aesthetic challenges.
The chance to make a stone sculpture that didn’t just toy with the concept of the base, but which completely removed it, was just too good to pass up. So while the process took far longer than anticipated, it is always pretty cool to do something experimental. Any time spent developing new methods and techniques is always well worth it.
Piggy, marble and found objects, 8 x 8 x 8 in
Aug 21, 2012
Little Lamb, marble, 9 x 8 x 16 in.
Through my personal and professional work as a stone carver I have spent quite a lot of time working on and ruminating over the concepts of memory, memorialization, loss, death and remembrance. If these subjects seem dour to you — I agree.
In anticipation of the birth of our first child I have, of course, been thinking more about the beginning of life rather than its end. Believe me, it’s less depressing. This thinking led me to question why we spent so much time and money making memorials about the cessation of life, rather than it’s beginning. Why not make memorials and artwork to our excitement about a life just beginning, as opposed to a life just ending?
The Little Lamb is the result of my excitement about the birth of our first child and my absolute inability to think about anything else in my studio.
Little Lamb, marble, 9 x 8 x 16 in.
The subject is taken from the very first and only stuffed animal that we bought during those early days of pregnancy. A time when we were equal parts excited about what we hoped was coming and trepidatious about whether or not things would all stay put and develop as expected. At this time, when we, of course, did not yet know the gender of our future child, I found myself unable to truly conceptualize our child as a human.
Many parents find it more comforting to picture their “it” as a more visually and psychologically pleasing little object or animal. Via this act of reverse-anthropomorphism, these little fetuses garner nicknames (which often carry into infancy) such as Little: Moose, Lion, Sweet Pea, Bean, Peanut, Gummie Bear, Dragon — or in our case — Lamb.
Though I do find the concept and act of memorializing and paying homage to those whom we have lost an important and solemn duty, I can surely say that it is far more uplifting to carve a Birth-stone rather than a Tomb-stone.
Little Lamb, marble, 9 x 8 x 16 in.
Aug 1, 2012
The New York Times
August 1, 2012
By Julie Lasky
In 1972, the Renwick Gallery of the Smithsonian American Art Museum was created as a home for arts, crafts and design. Four decades later, the gallery is celebrating the evolution and happy confusion of those disciplines in a show of the work of 40 artists born in the last 40 years.
Organized by Nicholas Bell, “40 Under 40: Craft Futures” focuses on themes like sustainability, sampling and the spirit-nurturing qualities of handwork.
Objects on display include Sebastian Martorana’s “Impressions” (2008), top left, a marble pillow permanently imprinted with the shape of the artist’s deceased father-in-law’s head, and Christy Oates’s “Crane Chair” (2009), bottom left, a functional seat that folds flat and hangs decoratively on the wall when not in use.
Rather than obsess over labels, the artists’ attitude is “I just do what I do,” Mr. Bell said. “It’s refreshing to see people abandoning language that we’ve been using to express ourselves over the decades.”
The show is on view through Feb. 3; information: (202) 633-7970 or americanart.si.edu/renwick.
Please follow this link to view the article on The New York Times.
Jul 26, 2012
Maryland Life Cover
There’s a great article by Sarah Richards in the June 2012 issue of Maryland Life magazine about my work.
The Icons featured prominently, as well as a large carving I was working on for the renovation of Gilman Hall at Johns Hopkins University with Hilgartner Natural Stone Co.
The print article never made it onto their website, but you can read the article by clicking the image below.
May 16, 2012
Archbishop Lori Coat of Arms, Baltimore, MD, wood carving
So, some folks may be wondering why I have been a bit of a ghost lately . . . well, now that William E. Lori has been properly installed as the new Archbishop of Baltimore, I can reveal what has kept me strapped to the carving easel these last couple of weeks.
The pieces were carved from Swiss Pear wood, a particularly tight grained European hard wood, which can handle the degree of fine detail necessary to properly illustrate all of the heraldry present in the new coat of arms. The hexagonal one, approximately 12″ tall, fits into a slot in the Archbishop’s cathedra (or chair – this is where the term “cathedral” comes from) in the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen on North Charles Street in downtown Baltimore. The Other larger one (about 24″ tall) hangs above the cathedra in the Basilica on Cathedral Street in downtown Baltimore.
Each piece took over 80 hours to carve, paint and gild and to be completed under a tight deadline. so . . . lots of work and little sleep. A third coat of arms has been commissioned and will hang in the lobby of the Catholic Center across from the Basilica. It will be completed in the next month.
An article by Mary Gail Hare mentions one of these coat of arms and can be found in the Wednesday, May 16th issue of the Sun paper.
Archbishop Lori Coat of Arms, Baltimore, MD, wood carving
Archbishop Lori Coat of Arms, Baltimore, MD, wood carving
