We are at the end of the first workweek here in Hawaii at the NELHA facility. There has been an ebb and flow effect on our productivity as we have yet to fully grasp the art of navigating a path that lies on a government facility. The project leader is a ninja at the art of making others love and support him though, and he has done a fine job so far. I have no doubt he will cut a path wide enough for the rest of to stumble through.
Working here with this crew has already provided me with an abundance of inspiration and my sketchbook is filling up. In a conversation today with Ryon Gesink, one of the crewmembers and resident of NIMBY, I was introduced to the “monowheel”.
Things like this are dangerous to me as they call out and all but demand me to build them.
We are already in our fourth day of the Art Across America pilot project in Kona, Hawaii. This is a project that was conceived by and spearheaded by my friend and colleague Jamie Vaida. Backbone Metals was asked to participate in the project during the months spent planning and organizing for the maiden voyage.
I have been slow to post about this because of my recent involvement on the Neuron Chamber.
So much has happened thus far that it is hard to differentiate between the events surrounding the actual job and all the personal and spiritual moments that have been experienced by all of us.
The build crew was hand picked for their individual skills and talents and has come together in what seems to be a successful collaborative effort.
The project is located at NELHA (Natural Energy Labs of Hawaii Authority) on the west coast of the big island. In the interest of maintaining continuity with the missions of both Art Across America and NELHA, we designed a vertical wind turbine that is flanked with a stylized, kinetic framework referencing the dynamics of a fish tail.
We are nearing the end of the first of three weeks scheduled for the job. Barring a few unsettled material sourcing issues, it is shaping to look like an easy build.
For the past month or so Backbone metals has been intimately involved with fellow artist and all around smart-guy Alan Rorie of Almost Scientific. Last year we worked closely with Rorie on the Steam Punk Tree House. When asked to collaborate, we were interested to see what path he would lead us down with a project of his own
Alan in a neuro-scientist by day, and has for a long time, had in his mind the notion of building a giant neuron. Of course this would be no ordinary neuron. The original designs had kinetic elements of cell bodies spinning around each other striking electrical arcs as they came within certain proximity. Later designs were refined though to reduce the size of these sculptures and encase them in a chamber for observation.
After a long and, at times, hopelessly frustrating effort by the team (also including electrical wiz Dave Shulman) we busted this thing out for the annual Fire Arts Festival put on by the Crucible in Oakland.
At this point I can only say that I am exhausted, proud of my co-workers and of the final piece.
Read a much better written description of the project here:
While traveling from town to town in Central Mexico, my group came across several blacksmith shops. They varied in size and technology and seemed to cater to the needs of their surroundings. Some appeared to only do repairs on farm equipment while others produced items for tourists.
None of the shops though were as awesome as the one we found on the outskirts of a town named Patzcuaro.
We had a man in our group who spoke the language as fluently as one could for not being a local. In a conversation with a cab driver, he had learned of a shop that produced tools exclusively to supply the vendors at the local market. As we looked for this shop, I remember not being sure if I had ever seen a group of grown men try harder to hide their excitement.
We finally found the place, which was actually in the backyard of the home of the smith. His look of uncertainty was understood as he answered the door faced with seven excited gringos. He welcomed us in though and introduced himself as Kiko, when he learned we were all smiths as well. Almost immediately he called to his wife to fetch his brother and nephew.
My eyes bounced all around the shop trying to absorb as much as I could that afternoon. I noticed something strange about the anvil that Kiko was working on. It was a little taller than it was wide and cylindrical in form. I had never seen one like that before, but had seen the same anvil in a few other shops in that area. I had my friend ask him why it had such a strange shape and his reply was once again another eye opener that put my experience as a metalsmith into a new perspective.
He explained to us that back in the 1970’s an oil tanker was decommissioned off the east coast of Mexico. At the time, every blacksmith on that side of the country showed up to cut a piece off the main propeller axel. These had been used as their anvils since.
To know how far the word of this stretched across the country was impressive enough when considering that it was done in a time without email. That so many gathered to work together and recycle this material for the same purpose however, showed me how vital community was to them as working smiths.
By the end of the day, I had watched him make me two large hammers made from a 1960’s Chevy truck axle, a garden hoe from a large piece of angle iron (which he used to cut a nail in half) and just as many items for everyone else I was with. It was fantastic to see how fast and efficient these guys worked.
I was lucky enough recently to be a part of a trip through Central Mexico with a group of fellow artists. We set out with the intentions to find local metalsmiths in hopes of trading ideas and techniques.
We settled in one area in the state of Michoacan and mostly explored the surrounding towns. What we found was an entire village of coppersmiths named Santa Clara Del Cobre. The only occupations that were not directly related to coppersmithing, were those of necessity to support the commersmiths. Butchers, grocers, mechanics and of course the blacksmiths who made and fixed all the other smith’s tools were seemingly the only other professions there.
The town was original Spanish colonial architecture and had not been touched since it was built. I felt as though Clint Eastwood would stroll around the corner at any moment chewing on a thin, half smoked cigar. It was a wondrous little place.
The first shop we visited was a production shop that forged out large copper disks. This was one of the “higher tech” shops we saw which is to say it had power equipment. They were impressive and worked with very efficient methods. (note the work apron of the fellow on the left - it is his last pair of work pants cut in half and turned around.)
An old man floated slowly around the dirt floor shop, wandering from one end to another checking on the work between long rests. I had thought he was the aging master of the shop. After inquiring though, the workers told us that he was simply a retired worker from years ago that never stopped showing up in the morning. It seemed as though his presence was tolerated by the other workers. He was kind and seemed pleased to show us around.
In the rear of the shop there were three fires on the floor, each with a disk of copper in them of various stages of production. Two sets of men sequentially dragged these disks from the fires across the floor to a massive power hammer where they would lift, and rotate it under the hammer blows.
As the metal was worked down to thinner dimensions, it would loose its heat more rapidly. When it was no longer workable, the men would return it to an empty fire as another set of men pulled the next one out. They kept this up all day long. Our visit gave them a well-deserved break. It was no wonder why they welcomed us in.
The Tree House has returned from another successful public showing. We rolled back into Oakland to our super secret location a few nights ago after a long drive from the Coachella music festival in the palm desert.
This was the second time that the crew banded together to transport, assemble and break down the piece in a short time. Having learned some lessons the first time, we were surprised to find how smooth and fast it went.
The event was great exposure for us and produced several more invitations to show the piece. Interest in buying the tree house was also expressed by a few parties.
I graduated with a degree in metalsmithing & jewelry from the Maine College of Art under Tim McCreight, Allen Perry, and Sharon Portelance.
At some point during my time there, I found this notion of adorning the body to have a razors edge, separating the conceptually interesting with just plain cheesy.
Unfortunately I find the latter to make up most of what I come across these days and thus I rarely get excited about jewelry.
The exception however is when someone comes along and blows tradition and scale out the window and produces something truly awesome.
I came across the work of Hisano Takei recently and immediately found myself with a desire to see and touch her work in person.
She is a trained metalsmith working, by choice, with a non-traditional (and at times, I find, nonsensical) material - wool.
I particularly enjoy the forms she creates. As a metalsmith I can see how these could easily be fabricated in metal. Of course, the irony of this is that if it were, the scale of this work would never allow it to be wearable.
There is an element of absurdity that she infuses in her work that I find to be unifying. I think it is great.
It seems as though my friend has had a resurgence of interest
with his work on the” To the bone” documentary. As I mentioned
in an earlier post, Ilja Sarro
approached me two years ago with the idea to make a documentary
about my bone collection. While shooting many hours of footage
though, we encountered several obstacles that ultimately hindered
the project. After a few months of down time, he found the material
that he had to be inconsistent with his vision.
It had seemed that he all but abandoned it. However, last week I
received word that he pulled the old footage out with some new ideas
in mind for a fresh start.
