Connections
Everyone comes to the beach, and they tend to coalesce around any unusual activity. Whether it involves film-making, fishing, exercise or sand sculpture people come as moths to a flame.
Most of them pause for a moment and then walk on. Some ask a question or two, are satisfied and then leave. A few stop and watch, and a small subset of this group, after they've watched for a time, ask good questions and actually listen to the reply.
It takes time to establish a connection. Repeated sculptures, repeated visits, and I look forward to these. Unfortunately, Bob Jeffords, willing helper and conversationalist, will no longer be there. We'd barely started a relationship, but I've missed him in the last few outings. Now I know why.
The sun still shines, the waves still end their journey against slanting sand. I still walk and design still comes from memory and transcends engineering. Roman in 1994, now Bob. It's a familiar process driven farther.
Build number: 02M-8 (lifetime start #255); 2-unit tight multiple on common base with borrow pit earthworks
Title: "Embrace: for Bob Jeffords"
Date: November 21
Location: Venice Breakwater, on beach cusp just south of pipe
Start: 0900, construction time 6.5 hours
Unit A: 30 inches tall, 19 inches diameter, unfiltered native sand (Short Form)
Unit B: 30 inches tall, 19 inches diameter, filtered imported sand (Short Form)
Plan:
Unit A on elongated 10 inch tall riser with spurs beside borrow pit.
Unit B on lower pad north of A, installed after A had been carved to
rough shape to make room. Approx 20 inches on center. Plot
approximately 8 feet by 12 feet.
Helpers: none
Digital Images: 49, with Canon Powershot G2
Photo 35mm: none
Photo 6X7: none
Photo volunteer: none
Video motion: none (camcorder left at home deliberately)
Video still: none
Video volunteer: none
New Equipment: none
1. Planning
I'd been thinking about the plan for this piece for a couple of days. If dispersed multiples don't work all that well, how about a really close one? The idea evolves into a smooth slab, angled so as to catch sunlight and reflect it into the inside of a hollow sculpture with many small holes in its shell. It seems interesting. Fortunately I forgetn how many times I've failed at even coming close to getting sunset light into even a monolithic sculpture.
When the message comes in from Bj about Bob's passing, the design stays the same but the feeling changes. I walk to the beach remembering his help, and the way I looked forward to seeing him walking across the beach toward my work site. My favorite memory is of Bob and Rich laboring to haul away the waste sand I was generating in great quantities on my first "private" multiple, three frenzied people trying to finish the sculpture before the ocean reclaimed the site. We all had fun, and with their help 02M-2 turned into a very nice sculpture.
Today's is both simpler and more complex. Rather than three piles, this one will use two. They have to be positioned with accuracy, however, and I'm going to have to carve the first before I can place the second because of the narrow spacing. Call it a "serial multiple."
2. Basic Execution
The tide is at its high stand. This is good because I won't have to carry water for building the base to the height needed. Just start digging, piling sand, and when a wave comes in, stomp on the sand to pack it. On any big project efficiency pays big dividends. By the time the tide leaves me alone, somewhat reluctantly it seems, the base is tall enough.
The short form goes on top. This sculpture will be simple, so I planned it to use native sand; its lighter color will also help in illuminating the second piece. Filling the form doesn't take long with all the materials right there.
There's no real hurry in the carving. This needs to take long enough that the tide will drop to reveal the better sand, so I have time to shape the broad face concave in both axes, like part of a sphere.
Tim comes down to take a look.
"The plan is to get light reflected from this face."
"Well, the sun should set right about there." He points. "Through that low point."
"That's about what I expected." There's nothing like familiarity with the area.
Should I make this thing textured? Vertical ribs, maybe, to contrast with the curves and horizontal parts of the second sculpture? No, I'll leave it smooth. How about holes? This is more tempting; I could go in on the south and come out to the northeast, but no light would get in there, and I like the current simplicity. Leave it. Rich will kill me when he gets wind of this. A solid sculpture. The first I've ever made.
The day is warm and dry, with a fitful offshore breeze. It could go either way: develop into full-on Santa Ana, or turn around and come from the sea. Either way I have to spray frequently to keep Unit A from crumbling. Its coarse sand doesn't retain water very well.
I now have room to prepare the base for Unit B, the complex piece. After that's finished the tide is still fairly high but I decide to try for some good sand.
This requires digging deep. There is good sand, under about a foot of coarse sand. Gargh. The beach is saturated, so when the borrow pit gets that deep the walls turn to liquid and run into it so I have to dig fast to get the fine sand before it's buried again. I manage to get two bucketfuls before the whole thing collapses. By the time I've processed that load the tide has receded so I try a lower place to dig. Just as I get the overburden stripped off, a big wave comes in and fills the whole borrow pit. Useless. Start over, a bit higher. This time I manage to get three buckets before the walls come in, encouraged by a little gift from King Neptune.
Shells are the bane of thin-section sculpture. Each load of sand run into the form through my filter nets a collection of rough items I'm glad to get rid of, but what a lot of work this is. I've been spoiled by recent unfiltered sculptures.
Higher on the beach there's more overburden to remove. Lower on the beach I'm likely to lose it all to incoming waves. Choices and gambling, betting my knowledge against the ocean's chances. Eventually I get all the sand I need.
A new problem announces itself with clattering from my Bigfoot Tamper. Close examination reveals cracks all through the plastic periphery of the drain that makes up its working end. Time for a replacement, or reconstruction. It hangs together long enough to finish this piece. It lasted two and a half years, with one rebuilding. Not bad for a tool that took 15 minutes to make.
While waiting for the excess water to drain from Unit B I spray the other sculpture. We're finally getting some sea wind but it's still dry. I also fill all the buckets with water so I won't have to go away while working on the fragile piece. After the utility tasks I remove the form very carefully so as not to damage the first sculpture. I don't want to damage that smooth face. Now we're ready for the main event, and a good thing. The short winter day is pressing.
3. Shaping
Assuming I have the tall reflecting face oriented properly, how should I carve this piece to take advantage of it? The design is a compromise between perfect light-collecting alignment and room for me to work. I carve this face so that it leans toward the reflector, with its center of curvature well below the reflector's. The effect is surprisingly strong, given that what has been shaped is empty space.
In order to carve the sand out of the sculpture's center I have to lie down on the base and reach around. There's barely room for my head to peek around to see where the tool is working as I awkwardly carve, so I alternate inside and outside carving so as to keep track of how thin the walls are. Cutting guide holes through the shell is the one sure way to know where I am, but that means I have to decide on what shape these holes should be.
In previous hollow sculptures I've been disappointed with the design of the shell's spaces. I want to do better. The shell has had a nice shape but the openings have been too predictable. So I pick up a tool and just start carving. The result is a line with a sharp corner; this will be impossible to support, but I'm committed now. I'll have to leave some sand inside to hold it up. The rest of the design grows from this interesting start, and gains detail.
There's a subtle difference between a shell-with-openings, and arabesque designs that make it look more like an assembled piece. This one combines aspects of both. It has a "shell sculpture's" strong overall shape, but I've shaped the sand around the openings to make them flow around and into other parts.
Andrew, the popsicle man, walks by with his cooler.
"Hi. Nice to see you again."
"How are things?"
"Pretty slow today. Was it warmer earlier?"
"Somewhat. Not that many people, however."
"What kind of popsicle would you like?"
"Strawberry. Thank you. I'm very light on food today." Zone bars just don't last very long.
"You're welcome. Thanks for sharing your art." He walks on north.
The shaded side of Unit B gets most of the holes. For contrast I put only two simple holes in the sunlit side, leaving the rest of it smoothly rounded. About an hour before sunset I call it good and start the clean-up. This includes contouring the base and borrow pit.
4. Lighting
I've watched the shadows change as the sun followed its winter course. The signs look good. I finish cleaning the sculpture up and shaping the base's spurs. My signature goes on the south side where it will be less intrusive.
I walk around. The sculpture's various light-dependent experiments work so well that a passerby could think I did it casually. Amazing. Light hits the big reflector panel and fills the inside of the second piece with a soft glow. Ralph is cooperating by staying bright, just gradually turning reddish as he approaches the horizon.
The design experiments work well too. The curves of the reflector and the south edges of the shell fit very nicely, making a tense space between them: they are tied but apart. Never has the planned part of a sculpture worked so well.
As is usual on these days, the sun's westward racing seems to slow down as soon as I finish the sculpture. i stand on the cooling sand and talk with a passerby who's also interested in the changing light. We talk of design, food and his bus-train-bus ordeal of reaching the beach. Shadows gradually lengthen as the light passes from gold through orange to red.
This sculpture is a good argument for doing multiples. The two sculptures cast interesting shadows that play with each other, accenting the bright vertical areas. Line and shade link across space. The sculptures' designs are wildly different but they still belong to each other. What bonds them? What bonds people? Whatever it is, it's as invisible as the space between these two, and as strong. Decision, skill, desire, keep trying, work at it. Do it while you can.
5. Sunset
I shoot more pictures as the light fades. Lovely. I scan the sky, looking at the few thin clouds, and miss George's wave.
"I feel hurt. Again."
"I didn't even see you." He runs around in circles, looking at the sculpture.
"I feel like a police helicopter. I'm going to run on south; I have some pizza. Can I stop by?"
"Sure. You'll probably pass me on your way back north."
"Yes. I have to keep moving because I need to call Wabbit Wepair to find out how they're doing with my car."
"OK. See you there." He heads on south, running gracefully.
The sun has gone over the horizon but a liquid line of red fire still hangs on. The air is nearly still, slowly bringing layers of thin mist in over the city. The last spark goes out. Perfect light for black-and-white photography.
Tired and hungry, I pack the equipment back onto the cart and amble north. Just put one foot in front of the other. I miss the dolphins one couple tells me about, under the sky in bands of blue, green and red. The colors reflect on the sheets of water from receding waves. Beautiful.
George isn't there by the time I finally get home over the hill. So, I go to work on dinner. This turns out to be a good thing as the promised pizza turns out to be five small pieces. We sit on the porch, me with a bowl of my quick lamb stew and him with cold pizza. With beer and chocolate, under the gentle glow of my Christmas lights and a few bright stars.
Written November 22
Rewritten and amended Nov 23
Updated 2017-12-13 to replace Photobucket links
No comments:
Post a Comment