Love Connection and Movement

This piece is the result of a two-week long residency in the Catskills on a farm run by the wonderful Kathryn Sikule titled Fieldstones. Kathryn often hosts artist retreats in old barns converted to glamping cabins with basic amenities.

Just around the corner is the quaint and gorgeous, “Bluebird Farms”, owned and run by the Sikule family. I redesigned their logo in 2021 after they had converted the barn to an event space for hosting weddings. Kathryn reached out to me again this past spring after seeing some recent artwork I had posted asking if I might be interested in joining her for an artist residency. We discussed creating sculptures utilizing old farm trash, equipment, and other materials scattered around the property. After some back and forth (and poor communication on my part) we locked in on a 2-week period between August and September.

Research began with a day-trip to visit the property in Mid-August to drop off some tools and assess what materials I would have access to in the coming weeks. Keeping all of that in mind I left for Swing Out New Hampshire where I continued my research into my personal favorite art subject: dance. With 3-4 dance classes per day, incredible live music each night, lovely sociable people, and tons of amazing dancers I had no lack of inspiration to pull from.

When I returned to Fieldstones and settled into the barn which I would call home for the following two weeks. The property featured a picturesque landscape with large round bales of hay and patches of purple wildflowers scattered about freshly mowed grassy hills. I had the pleasure of witnessing fields of goldenrod coming into full bloom, star-gazing upon a night-sky unsullied by big-city and suburban light pollution, and observing the wildlife going about their business: deer regularly graced the landscape grazing in the fields while birds-of-prey circled overhead.

There were groomed footpaths mowed through the goldenrod covered in wild thyme and oregano releasing their heady scents with each footfall leading to uniquely wonderful destinations. One path leads down to a refreshing swimming hole with natural rock steps and ledges covered in vibrantly green mosses. Another path leads up to an admittedly kind-of-creepy cabin on top of a hill at the edge of some woods. The final path leads to an open wooded area bounded by a creek and steep hill at the edge of the farm. This hill of possibilities, a pile of 75+ year-old farm trash dumped over a ledge, is where I found the majority of materials for my project.

I donned my heaviest overalls, gloves, boots, and other protective gear and made my way down to the hill to begin my precarious search for viable materials to work with. In my search I found tons of cool vintage glass bottles, a very 50s TV screen which reminded me of the “Fallout” franchise, a seized hydraulic lift, tons of vintage motor oil and olive oil cans, a tractor hood, steel drums, buckets, and a bright red vintage dress which somehow hadn’t faded in all the years exposed to the elements. I collected any materials that seemed viable into a pile to be brought up in bulk later. This process was slow. The hill is steep with broken glass and deep decomposing trash making the stability of each step dubious-at-best. By the end of the day I had a respectable pile of potential.

Yes, I have up-to-date tetanus shots.

My next project was to search through the barn full of architectural salvage from the Sikule family’s various construction projects. Here I found old rebar, tie-wire, some old corroded tools, and other odds-and-ends which I collected for later inspiration and consideration.

Destinee joined me a few days into the residency to enjoy some glamping in the peace and quiet and helped me continue my research with a plethora of vintage dance photos. I used many of these photos to create little wire models, or maquettes, that I would use as inspiration for the final piece while waiting for some equipment to arrive and for the weather to clear up. I also used these as a way to learn a new-to-me art medium. In our spare time we explored some local thrift stores and flea markets, scoring some awesome vintage swag.

After all the equipment came in and weather cleared up I set up a workspace in the middle of a small field between the properties. Surrounded by dry grass, I had to be careful to shield the area from stray welding and grinding sparks. I borrowed an old pop-up tent and tarps to shield the area from the majority of sparks and rolled out the hose to periodically spray down the grass before, during, and after each work session.

At this point I finally could begin the process of building my piece. I used a steel drum lid for the base of one figure and a smaller round steel plate for the other. I built a skeleton using rebar bent with my hands, boots, and pipe to give long sweeping lines of action reminiscent of gesture drawings. Once I was happy with the overall shape I added smaller gesture lines to create dimension. I held the rebar pieces in place with tie-wire so I could weld them solid with 6013 electrodes. I had to experiment with these electrodes on-the-fly due to a lack of experience with them and they were all I had at my disposal.

Once the bodies were completed I needed to fill them in with detail without losing the flowing forms I created. Out of the materials I collected, the ones that resonated with me most all had some color to them which I didn’t want to lose. Most of these pieces were boxy cans of motor oil or olive oil with some paint cans and buckets in the mix. I chopped the tops and bottoms off with a cut-off wheel on my grinder and laid the sheets flat before cutting them into long strips. I experimented with various ways of attaching these strips to the bodies before landing on the twisted wrap which visually embodies the stretchiness and energy transfer felt in partner dances.

The heads and hearts were challenges. I didn’t want to deviate too far from the design language I had cultivated in the rest of the piece but struggled to make them read as intended. For the heads I eventually came up with the tight twisted coil and exploited the overlapping to allude to facial features of a brow-line, nose, and mouth. I used an extra coil in the feminine figure to suggest an up-do hairstyle.

I wanted the hearts to stand out but the material I had been using would have gotten lost with a lack of contrast. Luckily I had found and collected a bright red tractor hood in my materials search which fit the bill perfectly. I loved the idea that I could use a part of the heart of the tractor to make the hearts of my artwork. AND IT WAS RED! I cut some wide strips, coiled them into spring shapes similar to the body wrappings, wire-tied them into place, and hated it. This wasn’t going to work for me; they felt disconnected and thoughtlessly placed. I was determined to make this idea work though so I removed them and tried a few other variations before flattening the strips, cutting them in half lengthwise, and cut more strips from the hood. I welded the strips end to end to create long thin strips which I more tightly coiled into more of a heart shape which overlapped itself before welding the ends together into a loose knot. This design resonated with me immediately and I welded the hearts into place.

After some clear-coat I moved them to the edge of the bigger field for some photos. While I collected my belongings and deconstructed my workspace, I left them in the field to dance through the rain, sunshine, and starlight.

They're now on display at my family's home in Long Island between art shows.