Sand Sculpture

1. Make a foundation The sculpture is heavy and its weight concentrated on a small area, so building it on unprepared beach will cause parts of it to collapse as the sand under it settles. I make a foundation to prevent this and to raise the sculpture above the sand that's carved away. It also gives me a little extra high tide insurance. To make the foundation, I shovel some sand into a pile, break up the chunks, pour water on and stomp it. This process is repeated until the base is about six inches tall. Images: Site and Equipment | Making a Foundation

2. Erect the form Sand can be packed more tightly inside a form similar to what is used in concrete construction. I use waterproof cloth because it's more portable than sheets of plywood. Small sculptures use a self-supporting form: it's a rectangle of Naughahyde with wood strips glued to it, or Dacron sailcloth with battens in sleeves. The ends are joined by an aluminum clamp, and an aluminum ring expands from the inside to make the cylindric form stand up on the foundation. The form I use for big sculptures, also Naugahyde, is supported by stakes driven into the foundation, with a similar clamp to hold the ends. Images: Erecting the Form

3. Fill the form This step takes some time. First, I put some sand in the bottom so the water I add won't run out under the edge. I also bank some sand against the outside to help retain water. Then I pour water carefully into the form, through the sand filter. Using a long bamboo pole, I tamp the sand, now under water, until the grains have settled fully. When the bottom is well packed and sealed, I add water until it's about a foot deep. The finer the sand is the better it works, so I explore the beach to find the finest deposits, and dig there. I shovel the sand into a box-shaped filter and carry that to the form. The filter is made of heavy-duty window screen over a wooden frame, with a handle. I put it into the water inside the form and wash the sand out. All of the rocks, shells, seaweed and very coarse sand are left in the filter; I dump them out and fetch another load. I add water to the form as needed. These steps are repeated until the form is full, whereupon I'll frequently add an extension form to get more height. Images: Filling the Form

4. Peel the pile When the forms are full, it takes a few minutes for the excess water to drain out. Take the form away too soon and the whole thing falls over. While I'm waiting, I cool off in the sea, swimming around and body-surfing. When I get back to my work site, I check the bottom to see if it's too wet. If it's ready, I remove the forms. The resulting pile is a solid cylindric column about four feet tall for solo sculptures, bigger if I have help. Image: Finished Column

5. Carve Using various tools, and my hands, I carve the pile. The idea comes from somewhere. Sometimes I have an idea I want to make; other times it's spontaneous. As I carve I use a hand-pump sprayer filled with seawater to keep the sculpture's surface damp. Under the June sun, edges and points dry out rapidly and crumble unless they're kept damp. While I carve, people frequently ask questions, but I'm not sure I give good answers. I'm in some other place as I work. It's amazing how rapidly the day goes by.

6. Finish A sand sculpture is never really finished, but I have to quit sometime. I work my way around with hands and brush, smoothing out problem areas. Then I go over the sculpture with a soft brush to remove the loose sand from the surface, so the horizons (lines of dark sand that settle into a layer as the pile is built) will show.

7. Landscape After I'm finished carving, I clean up the base area so it doesn't look like a construction zone. The waste sand goes back into the borrow pits it came from. Then I sign the work by making hand prints in a soft pad of sand near the sculpture's base.

8. Photograph Finally, I get a chance to look at the sculpture and relax. I walk around, looking at its parts and angles, thinking about what to do next time. Then I get out the camera and start shooting. This used to be quite casual: shoot a few frames with a camera borrowed from a friend. If I didn't, she and other friends all yelled at me. Since then I've learned that the photograph can be beautiful in itself, in addition to being a record. What kind of photography I do depends on how much energy I have left, but I always shoot a walkaround sequence of about 20 frames in black and white. What I shoot beyond that depends on light and feelings; if there's nice sunset light, I'll shoot some color transparencies.

9. Depart This part is sometimes difficult. After all, I've just spent six to ten hours pouring myself into some sand and the result will call to me. Just one more look, even when the light is gone. The sculpture doesn't belong to me; I can't take it home, can't guard it on the beach. Its water will evaporate, its grains dissociate. Finally, after the sun has set, I load all the equipment back onto my bicycle and ride home, slowly. I'm tired. FAQ | Do It Yourself | About Tools | About Sand | About Competition Library Human Touch Museum

howidoit 1999 February 14