Gallery
Bowls
These forms represent the earliest of my efforts in turning hollow forms using the bent tools I developed beginning in 1975. Almost all of these early pieces were made from planks of exotic woods, as was the fashion of the times. As my tools became more sophisticated in design, so, too, did the forms, especially the temptation to make smaller and smaller holes thereby increasing the mystery of their interiors.
My use of the term “bowls” may seem a bit misleading to those who interpret the term synonymous with “function.” I used the term in my early work because my friend Ed Moulthrop used it to describe his hollow forms. All artists steal their best ideas, and I figured it was important to steal from the best. In truth, I don’t think either of us knew what to call our work, so we just called them bowls.
The term ‘bowls’ fairly describes my work up until about 1979, at which point I was introduced to fresh-cut green wood and my whole design philosophy changed. It was because of this change that I began calling my pieces “vessels.”
Vessels & Pots
The decade of the 1980s produced an explosion of technical virtuosity by many turners in the field, especially in the direction of pursuing natural edge burl vessels. Having thoroughly explored that motif by 1989, I took a complete break by starting the Solstice series. I then returned to making my “normal” vessels around 1991. And that’s when things changed.
With the aid of my new tool designs, I was able to shrink the size of the openings of my forms. This not only increased the drama of the actual shapes, but it also added an element of mystery to the interior. The result was that the new work strongly referenced the ceramic forms I had made as an undergraduate. Moreover, these thin-walled forms symbolized a wooden membrane surrounding the energy of the interior. It was time to call them what they were: wooden pots.
Spirit Forms
The term “Spirit Form” evolved from a conversation I once had with an elderly Zuni potter in Taos, NM. She made magnificently painted ‘little’ pots, nothing over 2” in height or diameter, and many were half of that. She explained that the energy from each pot came from within as it was being made, and that the spirit within each pot could be shared by those who appreciated their beauty.
My intent in making these forms is to create designs that marry material with form, are truly monumental in scale, and that relate to we humans in a way that is intended to be mysteriously transformative. It is that mystery, that spirit of internal energy, that helps define them.
Black Pots
I developed the series “Black Pot-Dawn” in the early-1990s, as a means of expressing a sense of transparency to the surface of wood, not unlike one sees in a ceramic glaze. The inspiration came from witnessing the atmospheric shift that occurs in the moments before daylight actually appears in the clear mountain and desert skies of the Southwest.
Each piece is made from the crotch of large ash trees, where the classic “figure” grain appears. I find ash to be a wonderfully versatile material to work with, here revealing not only the magical complexity of figure grain, but also the dramatic contrast between the spring and winter grain lines when burned and burnished.
Once turned, the piece is first burned with a torch. I then sand back through the char in the areas of the figure grain to reveal the natural color of the wood. From there I burnish the surface to reveal the figured patterns as if they were emerging from beneath the opaque surface, which, in fact, they are. In effect, I am composing the surface between sanding and burning until the balance that I am after appears. The power of these surfaces comes from the movement of the swirling opaque grain lines juxtaposed to the intricate patterns revealed in the smooth figured areas.
Solstice Series
The Solstice series emerged quite unexpectedly in my career. After fourteen years of moving in a rather tireless direction with my work in bowls and vessels, I suddenly jumped off the road of certainty and into what David Pye might have called a ‘racetrack of risk’. It began with a spherical form that I inadvertently cut in half while hollowing. I became so intrigued with the resulting broken elements that I felt there was no choice but to pursue the process further, wherever it might lead. This new path took me through pursuits of scale, material, surface texture, color, movement and gesture. In effect, the basic components of pure sculpture.
These objects represent an effort to connect with one of the universal motivations for making art – the conundrum between chaos and order - and to manifest these concepts into primary forms turned on a lathe. The resulting Spheres, Interspheres and Monospheres symbolize form-in-motion: stationary, but not static, where the surfaces become a canvas for expression through the integration of color, fire and the metamorphosed textures of the material itself. Within these forms I encountered spirit and pulse, the origins of force, yet equally vulnerable in being on the knife-edge of an aesthetic awakening, elements that engender the same qualities of mystery that I find within myself.
As inspiring as these forms were, there was no way I could support myself through sales. They were simply too radical for the era when I, and the rest of the turning world had been consumed for over a decade with burled woods. My more creative friends loved them and a few loyal collectors even acquired them. Ironically, some prominent people within the field admitted that they really ‘hated’ my new work, and the owner of my gallery in New York City asked me to take them out of the gallery as they were “scaring” her customers! It was wonderful. It was liberating. I knew I’d got them in the gut instead of the head. I had “made it.” It also caused me to re-evaluate the core elements of my work in hollow vessel forms as I moved on into the 1990s.
Spheres
The most significant single design element that has inspired my work over the last four decades would be the sphere. While the sphere is universally recognized as a symbol of life, inspiration and wholeness, I find that it is also an extremely difficult form to design from. It is simply too perfect, too complete within itself and – possibly - too powerful to fully absorb, and then move beyond.
And yet, consistent with my feelings that wood is the most perfectly imperfect material to work with, it is the inherent perfection of the sphere that is so challenging for me as a designer of wooden forms. In effect, my intent is to expand upon the spherical form in any number of ways including stretching, squashing, squeezing and pulling, each of which providing powerful design opportunities. And as a result of these manipulations, every object I make today, be it tall, broad or squat, has its root design elements based in the sphere.
These resulting forms have provided a foundation in my work for a whole new vocabulary in understanding the vessel form. Combined with the dynamics and complexity of wood grain and color, elements of this language would include movement, poise, sadness and joy, unity and indifference, aggression, passivity, and what is most important to my work…pulse.
Emergence Series
The impetus behind the Emergence series evolved from a desire to explore a more linear quality in my work, as well as to increase the scale of my vessel forms. The actual idea for the construction of the forms was modeled on the simple Boy Scout aluminum drinking cup, which was telescopic.
My intent with this series is to allow concepts of lyricism, gesture and movement to define the forms in a sculptural context. The element of patterning is critical in establishing a rhythm that is unique to each piece, while the actual scale and shape of the forms emerges naturally during the construction process.
The current scale range of these pieces is between 24” and 84” in height.