More Matches More

Now that summer vacation has finally arrived (accompanied by the usual catch-up chores that need to be attended to around the farmhouse) I can devote more time to the carving of the large match sticks. I prefer to complete the hatchet/plane/sanding work outside while the weather is warm and the air free of bugs (the deer flies nearly carried me away in July!), as the pine shavings and debris are dusty and substantial. Besides, when else am I going to get any sun this year?


The obvious theme present in these works is both one of scale (taking a small, insignificant object and transforming it to a larger proportion) along with burning and consumption; these matches could be metaphors for concepts, places and even individuals who are consumed by their own nature.

Later in the year I will carve out detailed match heads and masks that will further solidify the identities of these ideas. I have set aside a stout chunk of white cedar that was recently cut down by a road crew, and I can probably get at least 4 faces/heads from it. Ofcourse I will again attempt to burn and blacken the roughened areas of the sticks when the snow has covered the ground.

Prince and Pauper, Dec. 2009

Many years ago (waaaay back in art school) I used to make small "art brut" figures carved from scrap pine. Then I would scale them up to a larger-than-human version in order to emphasize their crude and niave energy. The 2 most memorable works were 6 and 14 feet tall respectively, covered in smaller carved figures, and painted in garish colours of house paint.

Last Fall I started to make 2 large match sticks, complete with match "heads". From the beginning I intended to burn them when snow covered the ground (which certainly reduced the fire risk) to complete the illusion.

The larger piece (nearly 8 ft) wears a broken crown of royalty, and the smaller figure has only the stunned face of poverty. The figures lose something of their meaning when they are set up at a height, so they are best suited to lying on the ground; used up and tossed aside.

Both pieces are made from a single pine log. The tree was found standing dead in the woods, still solid and strong, but just waiting for a stiff wind to push it over. The pieces were carved with a hatchet and some small chisels. Ultimately they will be finished with matt varnish, merely to maintain structural integrity of the charred wood.

Black Locust Studio

As of September 2009, I've named the studio (and any potential business commissions that may arrise from it) the Black Locust Studio, simply because the farm property is surrounded on many sides by tall, dark Locust trees that filter dappled light in summer, and create scratchy, twisted profiles in the skies of other seasons. They are strong, subtle trees, leafing out late, that stand up to most heavy weather.

The studio is approx. 750 sq. feet of cathedral-ceilinged space; just enough room to imagine the possibilies of paint and sculpture.

New sculptures

Middle of March and Winter has broken open. The studio has again become a place I want to work in, not forced to. The plaster works continue to develop on the theme of Royal Absurdity, flowing I think, from the sound of the fall of all those millionaires dropping from their towers.

I have also withdrawn a fresh new Al Purdy that will be used in a fund raising auction/raffle (TBA) in aid of the preservation of Al's A-frame house in Ameliasburg, Ont. The final work will need to be finished and mounted, but here's the ciment cast fresh from the mould.

Plaster work(s) in winter

It is often difficult to heat my work space for short durations in the Winter. I usually swing out of bed early, run out and light the woodstove, return to the house to make coffee, and tentatively approach the studio again in a couple of hours. It also hard to work with water-based materials at this time of year, namely clay. I just removed a clay bust from its mould and found the original a solid block. It was easier to withdraw from the silicon, but I wondered if I'd damaged the whole operation.

Currently I'm working on several plaster figures, building up layers of density in order to start shaving/sculpting the form. They are proving to be images of men and woman who are dressed as kings and queens, but performing some ordinary act or behaviour.

Teacher, Gazing in Wonder

I decided to challenge myself to making a representative work of someone I know, aswell as admire. This is more difficult than it first appears as you end up being influenced by all those little factoid imaginings and personal history about someone, when the objective is always to leave as much out as possible. It is sometimes easier to build an image up from nothing, than to distill from complex experience. The work is life-sized and the final casting (upper left) will be mounted on a stout pedestal.

Al out-of-doors

I've hung the finished bust facing West, towards an unkempt woodlot echoeing sounds of jays, hawks and coyotes. The work is sprayed with several layers of commercially available paint to bring out a metallic patina as an experiment to see if its appearance and physical integrity will be maintained throughout the coming Winter.

I hope the stern look of this rural poet can keep the wind and snow at bay.

"George Orwell, thinking" March 2008

I did my first clay pieces nearly 20 years ago, and I have always wanted to return to the traditional form of portraiture, even though I'm sure that stylistically, it is entireley out of fashion. There really is nothing to compare to a well-rendered contemplative likeness.
I completed this clay portrait of author George Orwell during a one-day public demonstration of the technique. I chose Orwell (Eric Blair to his mother) simply because I think he would be astonished at how right he was about so many things on our contemporary earth.
I hope to add a few more images to this line of creation in the coming months, including some cement castings of clay originals.

"Pickpockets live in Olsanske"

"Pickpockets live in Olsanske", acrylic on canvas, 71x41

There is a police station just inside the southern gate of this Prague cemetery, perhaps for good reason, as many guide books will tell you to beware of thieves and pickpockets in the most unusal of places. Several of the crumbling tombs and mausoleums are obviously inhabited by more than ghosts of the Habsberg Empire; just peeking inside a broken window you might see a collection of shopping bags and some sort of rough sleeping accomodation neatly organized next to the partially open crypt. But my heart really started pounding upon hearing the tireless rustle of the magpies scurrying under the ivy like rats, the tough looking widows tending graves, men wandering aimlessly (more aimlessly than an artist?) between the headstones, the noise of the unseen traffic and streetcars filtering through the green light, and the historical sense that you are always being watched by the faces of the living and the dead. It was 10 a.m., broad daylight and I didn't lose my wallet, this time. Imagine what it would be like at midnight after the gates are closed.

Another Prague Moment

"near Kafka's grave" acrylic on canvas, 34"x60", 2008

A uniform green ocean of English Ivy and tall, lanky beech trees create an orderly walk, when you are searching for the grave of the great writer, Franz Kafka. His stone is ultimately disappointing for such a well known figure of literature, (except for the dates listing his siblings, who were killed in the Holocaust). The journey through this most Easterly part of Olsanke Cemetery is made eerie by its filtered green light, but still calming for its seemingly perpetual existence throughout such a trying period for Jews in Europe; especially since many of the stone-dates have lives ending in the 1920s and 30s, followed by a long absence in representation, until the dates start to show the latter half of the 20th century.

New Prague paintings

In June of 2006 I had the good fortune to spend 2 weeks in and around the city of Prague, CZR.

Much of my current painting is coming from this visit to the city that is filled with emotional and architectural wonders.

Like many European cities, Prague is choked with 1000 years of history and historical architecture, much of which has been left unspoiled by the devastating wars of the 20th century. Once the seat of the Holy Roman Empire, Prague became a jeweled gift for Hitler, and then nearly ruined through neglect by the Soviets. My first visit showed me only a glimpse of its Gothic mysteries and political transgressions.



"gay Jew, Prague", acrylic on canvas, 2006, (35"x60")
I wanted to illustrate this ominous (almost oppressive) presence of the past by placing an unexpected character within the streets of history; a gay Jew must have a complex identity to be able to both exhibit and deny himself, and to be at once celebrated for his uniqueness, and abandoned for his disrespect to tradition. The dominant architectural device is Prague’s Old Jewish Cemetery, looming above the street (in some places 12 feet high/deep) like another city; the united past, full of ancient prejudices and struggles, standing in judgment against the individualist’s future.


"Green Wave- Olsanske", acrylic on canvas, 2008, (47"x 71")
This images portrays a tiny corner of this 500 year old graveyard as an historic landscape teeming with lush vines and trees, and glowing with ghosts who have complex, forgotten pasts. Ironically, I find being in an old cemetery like this gives one a true sense of being alive. There is so little artifice that prevails, even with grand stone gestures, only a still presense of mingling artistry.

figure at a bend

Unlike many artists I tend to have a variety of styles. This seems difficult for some people to understand (especially since consistancy is THE thing that galleries tend to look for in a marketable artist). But I prefer to let the materials and compositions develop in a way that best tells the story of the images. If I have any memorable stylistic markers it is a result of listening to the process.

Best Challenge to Futility

Best Challenge to Futility (2007)

Best at Drowning Childhood

Best at Drowning Childhood (2007)

Most Consumed by Ourselves

Most Consumed by Ourselves (2007)

Flag for a Fallen Wilderness

Flag for a Fallen Wilderness (2007)

Best History Props

Best History Props (2007)

Passion with Reason

acrylic, found dinnerware on board

Burning Gold

acrylic, found wood on board

How to catch money

acrylic, collage, graphite on paper