Old Horse Tag

The high-class mare who graces my fields is a welcome sight every morning when I walk down the lane to feed. She leads the thundering herd of three if they’re in the east field, cantering into the dry lots with a vision of beauty I never get tired of witnessing. High necked and curvy she reinforces my belief that the beauty of a horse has touched our collective memory for many millennia.

Recently I came home from a trip into town and drove down the lane to check the horses in the awful heat of the late afternoon. I found her lying down and sweating profusely. Jumping out of the car I was through the fence and to her in an instance. I got her up, and lead her to the barnyard. Checking all her vitals she was still, not looking at me, very dull and within herself. I knew we were dealing with stress from the heat and a possible colic in the works. The vet was summoned and while waiting for him to arrive I walked the high-class mare around the barn after rinsing her off three separate times. She began to brighten up finally. By the time the vet arrived she was grazing and aware of her surroundings. We went ahead and treated her for colic. I turned her out in the paddock and went back and checked her again that night. Her coat was cool and sleek; she was high-necked and gazing at me with her bright slightly white ringed eyes wondering why I made an appearance in the dark of the night. Back to a normal for a horse who has never been sick that I can remember. I checked her papers the next day while working on some registry paperwork and discovered she’s 18 years old rather than the 16 I have been reporting for several years. I guess that qualifies her for an old horse tag. I can’t imagine not seeing her everyday in my life.

I will never for the life of me figure out how people get rid of their old horses.

Cheat Sheets

After scrounging around my studio for a couple hours I couldn’t locate my horse anatomy book. I wanted to spot check my sculpture and it’s been nothing but  an exercise in I can’t find it. It’s gone, the unsoiled, un-clayed and fresh to look at pages of the newer copy was loaned out to a foundry to help the staff understand my horse legs ears, etc. They didn’t return it so I’ve been foraging around trying to find my torn up and very dirty copy; haven’t found that one either. So, I’ve gone to the internet and I’ve found images people have been pinching and uploading to the internet. Here is an example of my one of my cheat sheets.

My horses cooperate to a point on letting me look at them in a bone and meaty way, but it’s very hard to take photos of their legs and not settle for the flat images they want to be to the viewer. Besides a living horse is much better to look at than a photograph but then again a horse doesn’t hold a trotting position frozen for posterity and ready at any time for me to check my interpretation.

This past week I needed to attend to the many other commissions I have to create and it was perfect timing right now for the big horse to let it cure a bit and give my eye a rest. Cooling it down and let me be a little detached so I can fix the mistakes and look for a new perspective in its lines and surfaces. It’s lumpy in all the wrong places right now, but that’s because it has many layers applied at different temperatures hence, lumpy and bumpy. I’m letting it settle a bit. Sanding it in some areas about a week ago those spots are holding their shape, so this week I’ll be sanding it for the final time and then I’m onto the next step, applying clay; glorious clay.

But before the pristine clay I’ll apply a sealer to fill and hold all the foam bits and pieces. I admit I hate getting foam all over me so I’m anxious to get on with it. But I also know, I can’t rush the process because it will mean adjusting and adding and subtracting and adding a lot of weight to the model when I’d rather it wouldn’t weigh so much (harder to move around). I have huge trash cans full of Classic Clay which will be wheeled out and let the sun warm it up before I bring in hunks for the big horse. I’ll be adding the energy and verve the piece require to work. I can’t wait to see what it will look like when “expression” is an integral part of the sculpture.

Off and Running

Another group of Barbaro’s are being readied for shipment as early as this Friday.

Zap

Treading through the muck left in the run-in from the rain water washing in waves from across the road into my paddocks, I tried to un-hook the hot wire connector. Easier to take two horses into the dry lot to manage their weight, both air ferns and bucket hogs they need to have restricted rations in their own little fiefdom. Standing in the wet ground I grabbed the hook and pulled, it wouldn’t release the tension so I touched the plastic insulator to push it apart and zap, water; metal and hot wire gave me a good jolt, enough to hear a crackling and pop. Ouch.

Make Sell and Keep

I delivered the resin version of Barbaro to the Derby Museum yesterday afternoon. We call the process “Classic Bronze”, since the resin they use today is far superior to what was used in the past. It’s a beautiful sculpture. They were thrilled at the quality of the piece and declared it perfect for the collector looking for a reasonably priced sculpture of Barbaro.

We pulled out the stops in the presentation; a great casting company perfectly molded and cast the clay model, our custom patina was formulated and it is perfect, just what I wanted, thanks to Art Casting of Colorado and their generous sharing of the formula for a successful color, and the walnut base and brass plaque perfectly fits the size of the piece, all in all I’m very pleased. The sculpture will be sold for $595.00, very reasonable for a sculpture 11″ T by 17″ L. A portion of the sales will benefit the Barbaro Laminitis Fund.

The pre-cast sculptures have had brisk sales so anyone that was at the FOB party (where we previewed the piece  last Friday evening) or those that couldn’t attend please get your order in at the pre-cast price of $295.00. I won’t be able to honor that price after Wednesday of this week.

Outside the front doors the TV stations were taking down the cameras and chatting with John Asher after his interview while another television station truck had pulled up and was getting ready for filming. Great to talk with John for a minute, he’s a very busy man right now.  The sculpture of Barbaro had two large flower arrangements on it’s base, one red and one white. Lovely to see such mementos left to commemorate Barbaro’s legacy.

I moseyed back to Lexington via a huge antique mall on Goss Ave.  A treat for me after a rush to get the Barbaro piece finished and on view at the Museum. A huge exhibit of stuff people make, keep, sell and keep was on display. It all rolls along these objects we carry along in our lives. A feast for the eye, I walked slowly but resolutely through the booth spaces scanning for that special thing I might need or want. Selection is part of the process and I was open to a new find, but I did have a mission of sorts I was looking for that perfect settee for my porch. Found one piece that might qualify but it stood by itself, separated from it’s set, so I passed. Close but not quite what I wanted. Traffic and rain dictated I get on the road before the evening traffic bottled me up in my big diesel truck on the narrow downtown roads in Louisville.

I hope the Barbaro sculpture finds it’s way into people’s lives and his legacy continues.

Friday Day

Friday morning dump truck here first thing to drop gravel. Did a walk about for which trees get the axe, figured out how we’ll reveal the old rock wall, made a plan and pushed onward with no return; driveway re-graveled (is that a word?), septic guys here to fix concrete cover, health department okayed the fields, sucker trees and underbrush knocked down with mini bulldozer, love those things, log house garden weeded and raked ready for flowers to bloom, two pick up loads of mulch applied to pertinent areas of gardens, bird seed in feeders, a pick up load of candy hay picked up and delivered (I would have it delivered but love the drive and the throwing and stacking), two roll bales delivered, Reno nickered for his hay, gambled about and bucked, thrilled that his snack bar has been delivered to his house, three horses let out to graze for the afternoon, dropped their heads and ate, ate, ate, water tanks filled, foam horse looks like a war horse right now, big crest with bamboo sticks poking out of his neck, answered project emails, plucked hair off one two toned horse (Appaloosa), noticed five white hair patches in the pen from Dora back-rubbing on ground, puppy accompanied the barn chores, later dropped tools and went to movie and dinner. Life is good.

Measure Twice Cut Once

While driving north from the Florida gulf this past week I was ruminating over a life-size horse waiting for me at my studio. My musings came to rest on the activity of measuring a horse and how it has inadvertently affected contemporary horse sculpture.  How an artist goes from a concept to the actual sculpture, from little to big spurred me on to examine the process. So I wandered back to the measurement of a life animal and where it has taken contemporary images of horses.

I’ve measured horses and dogs mostly and relied on published  measurements of lions, birds and other animals, etc. and applied them to life size models. I’ve  also seen accounts where  artist’s claim measuring a horse supplies the artist with enough information to create a perfect copy of the horse in miniature (usually 1.4 life size or smaller). The copy part struck me as odd  and I wanted to examine what that meant. Words easily pop out of one’s mouth but I’m always looking for the real meaning of statements people make.

First I can’t accept the perfect copy of the horse begins with careful measuring of a horse unless it’s directly applied to a life-size model. This is the only method that gives the artist leeway to adjust and create from the inside out, not just take a digital foam enhancement and apply clay to the surface with no adjustment for the scale of the piece or correct a flaw in the tiny pro-type.

Measuring a horse to produce a life-size digital scan from the miniature is nothing more than pure theater and while it looks exotic and complicated with all the expensive tools required to produce such a three-dimensional scan, it’s disingenuous because it’s a step that is solely done to  hurry up the sculpture process but instead it’s used to impress the client with the precise method of reproduction. This won’t insure a reasonable likeness of a horse anymore than pouring rubber over a live horse. Why? Because a miniature model can be off slightly or more than a little and it’s compounded by the enlargement of that mistake.

I’m not denying the measuring tape helps in developing a sculpture, but it won’t insure an exact copy especially if the math isn’t codified into an exact representation of a living a breathing animal. This process also produces are real problem for outdoor art, the miniature isn’t to scale for a outdoor installation. A little bitty sculpture enlarged and placed in an open space look well small, they don’t have the presence it takes to command the space, they were designed in the miniature and they look that way in the outdoor space.

The example below is a copy of a human by Ron Mueck. Is this art? Yes, the artist’s point is the question of scale; they look like real human beings in the way a wax museum exhibits portraits of people that are uncanny in their detail and their scale is either too big or too small. to be realistic copies. And they’re three dimensional photographic renditions of the human.  They wouldn’t be so off putting if they were loosely rendered in a more painterly way. Didn’t the tool of photography put a whole generation of portrait painters out of work? It’s seriously hampered the sculpture community too, and this artist addresses this dilemma in his work. Society accepts  a photographic copy of your loved one or special person, he can do this by using high tech plastics and real hair and clothing.  They’re  uncanny by their super realism and with this artist’s considerable skill and talent they’re amazing sculptures.

Photo credit: Ron Mueck

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the past an artist would first create a miniature of the horse as a pro-type for the larger version to express his idea in a three dimensional form. And this was a sketch of sorts, a working model, not the final version and done from observation of the horse.  It allowed the artist to further refine his sculpture. You can be sure the measurements were off enough to affect the proportions of the larger statue. And I believe these sketches were purposely loose so the artist had room to further refine his work; given a breath, a moment, a slice of time which belongs only to the artist and nobody can encroach on the personal space which defines the finished sculpture.

The example cited below which is a  design for monument submission done by American sculptor Lorado Taft shows this perfectly; a loose design done in plaster, created as a working model to be referred to as the artist creates his masterpiece.

 

 

 

 

Many artists’ today defer to technology and assume the miniature and three-dimensional foam manikin is the cutting edge process in producing an exact copy of the horse in sculpture. The sales pitch from the enlargers is how the artist can avoid the backbreaking work it takes to enlarge the piece themselves. I’ve studied this process and have resisted the suggestion to give in and let them scan my work and skip the drudgery. I won’t subject my work to this terminal method of creating a sculpture. Maybe the base for the sculpture could be mocked up in a digital foam if the sculpture is a monumental piece; a landscape form to support the animal, but not the core of the piece, which is the center of the essence of the sculpture.

Today it’s more than likely when a foam reproduction is delivered to the artist for them to “butter” some clay on the surface to ready it for the foundry process; there isn’t much adjustment to the foam enlargement, just surface preparation. This expensive new age process is now the go to technology for artists and they are keen to inform their clients of the magic of this technology to make their statue perfect in every way conceivable. Unfortunately it locks the artist into a form that has no where to go if it’s off here or there. And by its very nature the artist typically won’t re-work a foam model because it’s a finished model only missing a clay skin. I’ve observed a well known sculptor re-working a life-size figure and while he was cutting away, and rasping some of the surfaces, it was minimal up to the entire surface of the piece he was finishing for molding. While foam enlargement works well for architectural ornamentation or set designs, it lends itself to static designs whereby the inner movement of the sculpture can’t be realized by a mere smear of clay.

Art is not meant to perfectly mimic reality unless that’s your point as the artist did above. Reproducing a copy of a horse through measurements pales against  hundreds of minute measurements of a living animal as observed in life.  The real test is relying on experience and talent to look at the measurements decide to follow them or throw them to the wind and rely on the indelible mark the horse has on one’s eye.

I Like Color with a Dollop of Mud

It’s muddy. Sucking your boots off mucky. My boots are thick with mud when I come home from the barn and pull them off in the front hall. I need something to brighten up my day, but I can’t get on a plane right now to escape the dreary weather so I’ve settled on a bit of color in a can to wash away the mud-caked days.

I’ve been juggling  projects which gives me pause to think maybe I should slow down a bit and take a breath rather than surging on grasping at all the possibilities. That’s the late in the evening tired and sore from the work day speaking.  I wake up with a list of this can be done today, or that will happen today, doesn’t always work out that way but it’s my waking moment of the day so I listen to it.  I think I need a break; I’m wearing thin on myself.

The hay guy rang me up and said he’d be here at three. While opening the gates at the dry lots for the tractor to rumble through and drop the big rolls of hay into their place of safety under the run-in, I noticed my puppy Aubrey was quietly sitting on the front seat of the truck waiting patiently for me to return. I could see his dark head through the window as I glanced in his direction several times to make sure there wasn’t upholstery being de-fluffed while I was gate keeping.  He’s a good dog. It was a good moment to let the day roll on without too much pushing and shoving.  While the business of art can be tough, studio work is easy.  If I could spend most of my work day in the studio I’d be very fortunate, but then all of the other important facets of my career would slide to the side ignored and trampled on. So it is what it is; a balancing act.

In an effort to avoid a new project and the leap of faith it requires to start, I’ve been immersed in color for the past couple days while painting a greeny-yellow on my living room and office walls.  It’s satisfying work. I felt it was best to get settled on my house and hearth before throwing myself down the gauntlet on a new project. Chartreuse is one of my favorite colors, so I decided to remedy the dark and dreary of January and splash some color on the walls. I moved huge rolls of drawing paper which were stacked in round tubes in the corner of my office, pulled a big cabinet of French pine and well scrubbed away from the wall and rolled the oriental rugs to the side.

One of my friends recently innocently suggested that they knew a painter who needed the work right now. I said yes, of course I would consider it. But not long though, because a house painter would be a nuisance to me more than help. I can see the look on some poor woman or man’s face as I say, nope don’t like it, I’ll be back in two hours, after I buy some more paint and haul it out of my truck. The paint freshly squeezed like lemons into the cans ready to paint. No mixing needed, the paint is still twirling around in the bright aluminum can. I’ll paint it myself.

I challenged the paint guys at the store by presenting them with a huge dried leaf of my favorite tree in the front yard, a majestic Catalpa tree whose days are numbered like us all. If bark is an indicator of age it’s been ravished by woodpeckers of every size and shape. I thought it was best to take the color of that magnificent tree and bring it into my house. They weren’t so impressed. Their new-fangled scanning equipment couldn’t even get close to the color of the leaf.  Undaunted by their lack of eye for fixing that color to a chip, I gave up took their efforts home and painted a swath on the wall. It was too much, not right, no way no how was that going to stay on the walls.  Next day I took in the linen pillow from Ikea which is close to the color. I found a chip and we played with it a bit and got was I was looking for, it’s on the wall, a color that fits this house.

But the tobacco color I asked about at Sherwin Williams wasn’t in the computer.  I thought that was strange, I wanted a tobacco color on the lower wall to call out the crop that was grown on the rocky-river edged land my house sits upon. Tobacco must be a swear word now because the color I picked out wasn’t what was printed on the chip. It’s as ‘backky as you can get. So why not call it what it is? I had some made up and I’ll paint a cabinet that needs a coat of paint, I didn’t like it on the lower wall, a bit tricky and I wasn’t feeling tricky at the moment.

I’ve ordered reindeer moss, in chartreuse, dried and gorgeous, to fill two apothecary jars which will flank each end of the fireplace. Additional color and forms will fill the jars; dried moss, artichokes, and round papier-mâché balls that I’ll color myself. Pine cones with a bluish tint natural of course will also be placed in these jars. Three hurricane vases will march down the big walnut banquet table under the chandelier.  These will carry Osage or horse apples, another variation of the chartreuse. This is a Shaker style house and the color is painted on one of their gorgeous wood structures at Pleasant Hill. I love it. So here it is and will be, color and all, what I call earthy or more so to the point, color with a dollop of mud mixed in.

 

 

 

 

 

Bronze Relic

A bronze relic is posted on the window sill of my studio. It sits among other bits of travel and experiences that  line up in a ramble of shell and pine cones from places far flung from Kentucky.  Elemental and gorgeous in it’s entirely it reminds me of the large expanse of metal that stretches fifteen feet over the ashes of the Kentucky Derby winner Barbaro.  A tiny chunk but a big reminder of a larger story, it’s a section cut from the sculpture of the Barbaro bronze. In order to place  the steel supports into the sculpture from the railing we had to cut windows out of the sculpture; this is one of them. I love the color.

Dog Day Afternoon at Claiborne Farm

I’ve been working on two clay models of Clay Hancock’s wonderful dogs. My subjects include Betty who is her gorgeous black Lab, and a relative of  the yellow Lab Dash who I modeled many years ago for Dell, and a trio of Jack Russell Terrier’s  headed by the momma dog Terry. Clay is bringing Betty for a visit  to my studio so I can double check my efforts. I’ll go back to the Claiborne to check the Jack Russell’s since they’re a pack and not so easy to bring to the studio. I’m always amazed by people who have great taste and make an effort to bring more beautiful things into the world.  Back to the dogs!