Descending Ashtray

I’m not sure where the idea came from, but when I arrived in Des Moines last Friday, Gabe and I immediately started discussing and sketching ideas for a joint project in his newly-cleaned shop, something that would combine Gabe’s freeform and organic sculptural style with my more structured and conceptual approach. Interestingly, we both had a very similar idea, so it was easy to get going, even though I spilled some water on the sketch. Oh, and we only had one day to work.

I began Saturday morning by planing some poplar to 1/4-inch thickness so I could use it to construct the sides of the 5×5 cube that would be suspended in the tree’s branches. When that was all done, I cut the planed stock on the table saw to 5 inches with the table saw’s blade set to 45 degrees.

I took quite a few breaks to spectate as Gabe showed off his facility with the bandsaw and his sanding contraption, constructing the trunk and branches of the tree from pieces of walnut.

Did I say facility? Watching Gabe use these two tools is like watching a veteran, world-class musician play violin, so measured and intentional are his movements. I haven’t had a great deal of experience with either tool, as my work is more geometric in nature, and I was extremely impressed.

I left Gabe to his performance and made my way to the drill press, where I drilled 25 holes in each of the 6 sides I’d just cut, followed by some quick sanding.

Finally, after a quick-ish glue up (hint: use masking tape to construct a lightweight cube in this way) and some lunch, we were able to start piecing the trunk and branches together. It was a little like flower arrangement, placing the branches, and Gabe’s sophisticated spatial imagination really came into play as he sanded and molded branches to the tight geometry of the cube, weaving the branches in and out.

Too quickly, I had to leave the workshop and the nearly-complete project.

The most amazing part of the day was the speed with which the elements came together in a cohesive whole, even with a couple of setbacks and having to create a few jigs on the fly. I don’t recall ever working so collaboratively with someone else (I used to hate group projects in art school). It was the highlight of the weekend for me, and I left inspired with a lot of new ideas for my own work. Thanks, Gabe, for a great day. Now, what should we call it? And when are we doing Number 2 in Portland?

I mark my artistic career in two ways: the days before I knew of Sol Lewitt, and the days after.

Sol Lewitt, groundbreaking conceptual artist, exquisite draftsman, gifted printmaker, and sculptural wizard, died on Sunday, April 8th, 2007. He was 78.

“The idea is a machine that creates art.”

I have never wanted to be a decorator, I am far too impatient for realism, and I get self-conscious around models. Sol Lewitt’s aesthetic, the simple purity of a straight line and the supreme importance of the idea appealed to me immediately. As a designer, I am naturally drawn to grids. And while my math skills are less than stellar, I have an interest in systems and enjoy the meditative act of navigating the intricate logic of 3D space represented in two dimensions. I am also a hoarder.

“If the artist carries through his idea and makes it into visible form, then all the steps in the process are of importance. The idea itself, even if not made visual, is as much a work of art as any finished product. All intervening steps — scribbles, sketches, drawings, failed works, models, studies, thoughts, conversations — are of interest.”

And, though he would probably wince at the idea of beauty in his work, his work is awe-inspiringly beautiful, in the same way the double helix of DNA, or a cloudscape, or a checkerboard are.

“In conceptual art the idea or concept is the most important aspect of the work. When an artist uses a conceptual form of art, it means that all of the planning and decisions are made beforehand and the execution is a perfunctory affair.”

See Sol Lewitt:

• Portland Art Museum’s Print Gallery: Minimalism/Postminimalism
• Des Moines Art Center: Wall Drawing #601
• Walker Art Center, Minneapolis
• SFMOMA
• Other Collections

Gabe got married last weekend, but he’s either too busy or too shy to say so. He made himself an amazing ring that matched the one he made for his new wife, and the two were married in a wonderful ceremony at the Lueders family farm near Osceola, Iowa. Sarah and I considered ourselves lucky to be in attendance at the wonderfully intimate ceremony, which included a special cameo by little Ethan Lueders, aged two months. I’ll let Gabe post photos if he feels like sharing.

While in Iowa, Sarah and I also had the opportunity to see several of Iowa’s art institutions, begining with my old alma mater, the University of Iowa. In September, the art school opened with a new building, not so cleverly titled “Art Building West,” but very cleverly designed by Seattle architect Steven Holl. Situated across the street from the severely aged main buildings, the new building houses a large lecture hall, the art library, and a new, very professional gallery space.

As dramatic as the exterior is, the changes inside are phenomenal. When I was at Iowa, the library was literally stuffed to the ceilings, with books wedged anywhere there was room. In the dark (and damp) basement, many of the books were tatterred and torn by decades of rough treatment, and students routinely slept in the dank and cavernous lecture hall.

In perfect contrast, the interior of the new building is flooded with light, set off with light materials like maple ply wall paneling and cork flooring. A soaring central staircase in lightweight sheet metal sends light ricocheting throughout the space. Attention to detail is evident in the sculptural door handles and careful spacing of the stairs.

I was especially pleased to see that the building houses a newer, more professional gallery space, which my sister tells me is considered by students to be more prestigious than the old building’s Drewlowe Gallery. Judging by the quality of the work being shown by graduate student Terry Rathje in Poetic Structures, I think she’s right.

My favorite piece was this tower composed of found metal parts, which I believe was entitled Fibonacci’s Ziggurat. I enjoyed the simple geometry of its structure, but appreciated the complexity of the various elements used to define those shapes: very interesting and slightly rusty bits of packaging from the midwest’s past. I really want to know where Rathje finds all those pieces!

Nearby, a more functional piece of artwork looked simultaneously comfortable and hostile, a piece Sarah called “the Skeleton Chair.” I confess, I didn’t write its title down.

Discarded license plates form the backbone of Rathje’s wallpieces, an amazingly original technique that seems so obvious once you’ve seen it, but I appreciated the eloquence of the statements as well.

A pretty amazing show by Terry Rathje, I felt, one really worthy of this amazing new space. The building is really a welcome and dramatic change for the department. Now, if they could only address its decrepit cohorts …

Here is a link to a friend’s website. He makes some interesting sculptures out of paper and post consumer waste. I met him at the Vipassana retreat. Even though we only talked to each other briefly on the first and last days, we have kept in contact through emails. Worth checking out!

http://www.studiocurtis.com/

I just finished a new batch of flowers, so if anybody is interested I have some available!

While Brandy was out and about for a mental break, Ethan and I had our first Lego night together!

Although this is a very rough version of the idea, the Technic Legos helped me work out some of the mechanical problems of a larger wood sculpture that I have been working on. The basics of it are that by turning the small wheel (bottom right) the four blades will open simultaneously. Thus creating an adjustable opening (at the top) to allow light to enter into the center of the piece, similar to an aperture in a camera.