The birth & death (and rebirth) of a sculpture
Imagining (and re-imagining) Steps Repeat
It’s hard letting go of something you’ve given time and energy to. But what’s worse is suffering through something that’s supposed to be enjoyable just because you made a vague promise to yourself that you would.
I’ve said it before, so much of artmaking is really the art of letting go. Many of us try so hard to hold on to what we think we can control.
Art reminds you that’s bullshit and instead of being like rocks, stuck at the side of a stream (thanks Angus Tuck) you’re better off as the water that can glide and trickle and rush and ripple.
I had an idea for a sculpture called Step & Repeat, born out of a state of frustration.
I love how making art provides the feeling of personal growth. And I loathe feeling stagnant.
This sculpture is meant to capture the feeling of clambering up mental mountains but ending up right where I started.
(I am, slowly, learning to accept I can’t constantly be evolving, and what feels like stagnation may actually be time to allow the integration of what I’ve learned into my day-to-day.)
A lot of my work’s messages are rather optimistic. Always the outcome, what I figure out in the end (acceptance, resilience, celebrating both individuality and the importance of community and connection). And although those lessons culminate into a philosophy of sorts, they’re the aftermath of a struggle.
It feels necessary to visually portray the too-common times when I can’t see the big picture, when I’m hard on myself and feel I’m failing or toiling.
I sketched out my initial vision for this piece without exploring alternative visual solutions. I fall in love with an idea and picture it so many times in my head. It makes it hard to take a step back and see other ways it can come to life.
I like the idea of a staircase (suggesting growth and upward momentum), but the pieces keep repeating themselves. They may invert or change direction, but they don’t inherently change.
Then, I got waylaid in the best possible way.
I began cutting shapes for Steps Repeat, but then was fortunate enough to get offered the Salt & Honey commission.
I figured I’d work on Steps Repeat in the background, which for me meant experimenting with texture.
I’ve been reading the book The Elements of Sculpture. It talks through different qualities to consider when creating or viewing sculpture (surface, edge, texture, space, movement, etc.)
I found this Eva Hesse sculpture in there that I absolutely fell in love with.
Even through a photograph, the texture (and the difference in texture between the inside and outside) is so visceral. I know what it will feel like just by looking at it.
I questioned how I could incorporate more texture into my work and wondered what would happen if I took a dremel tool to the surface of my metal and marred it.
I anticipated doing something way more messy, but (some people would ascribe this to my Virgo-ness), it ended up coming out very clean and uniform.
Despite the clean aesthetic, the process itself is very messy. It’s also pretty brainless and tedious.
Because of the pain this process caused me, it actually fit well with the message (probably better than if I’d achieved a messier, looser effect).
The literal grinding away, without feeling like you’re getting very far, is exactly the emotion I was trying to achieve.
Since this was happening intermittently, while working on Salt & Honey, it meant there were months I was working on this piece without critically thinking about the sculpture holistically.
Once I finished the commission and was able to re-focus on Steps Repeat, I realized I needed to make sure I was heading in the right direction before going further.
I re-sketched it (using my iPad) to see the vision come to life more fully.
I realized what would strengthen my message (and add visual interest) would be to set the staircase at an angle.
It suddenly becomes Escher-esque, the staircase that leads nowhere. You think you’re going up, but are you?
The decision to have it rest on its fulcrum introduces some scary logistics. It means I have to consider gravity in a way most my pieces haven’t really dealt with.
I’m curious about using concrete for the base. (I have a sculptor friend who says working with concrete is not that hard, is he lying to me??)
I have some serious experimenting to do.
And all of a sudden, this became a much more complex piece.
I went over it so many times in my head. Are these pieces actually going to fit together the way I want?
I decided I needed to make the whole thing simple and small to see what I was working with.
Honestly, seeing it together, I feel like, eh.
Even if all goes well (the vessels fit together well, I’m able to texture all 4 sides of a gazillion feet of rod, and manage to balance it on a base that is rooted in concrete)… it doesn’t look that interesting.
With any art, you need to be able to get close and relish in the details, and then see it farther away and still have a compelling read and visual interest. (I’ve fallen into this pitfall in the past as I talked about in my art critique.)
The silhouette isn’t compelling enough. I don’t want to sink months and months of energy and material and experimentation into a piece that I’m already not excited about the final result.
I’ve decided to pivot.
I initially thought I’d throw this whole idea out. But the concept still grabs me. There’s something in me that needs to rip all the frustrating parts out of me and throw it into a sculpture. I need to see it through. I need to find and actualize its correct form.
Will it provide a sense of calm within me? Will it make me accept the frustrating moments with more grace? If nothing else, I hope folks will recognize my struggle and know they’re not alone in what they’re going through.
This time, I’ve allowed for iteration.
I was able to see different ways this piece could come to life. I sat on one idea for a few days, and then came up with a solution that feels so right.
There was this a-ha, click moment. The concept and execution slid into place. I believe it will,
a) be a more compelling visual execution
b) tell the story/convey my message in a really tangible, instinctive way
c) will incorporate some of the work I’ve done for this piece so far (so, not for naught)
and, d) be much more enjoyable of a process to execute
There’s a cliffhanger, for you and I both. Keep an eye out for these works in progress.
And be nice to yourself when you feel stuck or slow or fumbling or low. <3