98P-17 "Welcome"
98P-17 "Welcome" | |
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I rode over the summit out of South Park, Colorado, and realized that was the last high point. In two days I'd be back in Los Angeles, and traffic, and work. |
| Build number: | 98P-17 |
| Title: | "Welcome" |
| Date: | October 17 |
| Location: | Venice Beach |
| Start: | 1200; building time: 3 hours |
| Height: | 3.5 feet |
| Base: | 6 feet X 2 feet |
| Photography: | approx. 25 exp E100S w/Pentax WR |
Maybe there are reasons for being here. I received an Email message from Etc this morning, saying that there was snow on the ground at the cabin where I stayed for a week. Here, sunlight pours down onto the beach, warming my bare feet as I walk south.
Rich is already there. I was delayed by this and that, the schedule for hand-built sculptures being far less demanding than it is for formed ones. Terry had just arrived and was getting set up to build pyramids; I stopped to chat with him for a few minutes. The warm day has brought out quite a few others ambling on the sand, the usual winter mix of tourists and regulars. Surfers work at catching the few waves worth riding. I sample the sand and choose a place that I hope minimizes the shell content. The beach varies a lot. Today there are many rocks and shells, all the way through, and a layer of very coarse sand about four inches down. The rest is good. The pile grows haphazardly. One of the advantages of free-pile sculpture is the overall shape can be different every time, instead of always having a cylinder to start with. This time I make a sloping curved pile with a tall tower at the east end, then put a smaller pile near the middle, and an outlying short tower off the west end. A woman comes by and says the short tower looks like a stack of pancakes. She's right. Another woman asks what I'm doing, then wants to know what kinds of tools I use. It's about time to carve anyway, so I unload my pack; the whole suite is there, ready to work. She's quite intrigued by them, and I tell her that the designs are the result of solving problems. The little tower doesn't stay a stack of pancakes forever. The last section to be carved, I make it lean outward and then hollow it out. Tense panels enclose the space and curve downward into a channel cut below grade. I'm hoping that, as the tide rises, water will run through the sculpture's spaces. Ken walks up as I work, on this day that's warm enough even for him. I continue carving, knocking out chunks when my knife hits a rock or a shell. Well, just make it look as if the missing piece is supposed to be missing. A broad tunnel goes under the central tower and saddle. Openings go from this into other spaces. The tall tower has long flutes and narrow openings, with some parts left rough. The middle tower is more complicated, with its panels continuing into other parts of the sculpture. The final touch is a large ball placed on the curving skirt between the two shorter towers, on the edge of the borrow pit. It makes nice shadows in the afternoon sunlight. The whole effect is good. Rough, as usual, but interesting shapes. What's particularly nice about this piece is its presence: it looks bigger than it really is. The tallest tower reaches my waist, but from a little distance it seems much taller. Its curves and hollows sing nicely. When the tide turns, it does so gently. It creeps up the beach, waves gradually coming closer. One wave fills the borrow pit and runs through the sculpture, which looks nice until the flat span over the tunnel fails. We stand around and talk. Many passersby are very taken with the sculpture, including a woman name Karen who sat some distance away for a log time and watched. She's involved in helping parents home-school their children, and has very strong opinions on this. She thanks me for making the sculpture, saying I've brought happiness to many people today. Well, I've certainly brought happiness to myself. Living in Los Angeles isn't fun a lot of the time, but the beach is my anodyne. I can be alive here, experiment and play. More waves come in, and the fragile central tower slowly sinks into the hollows beneath it. The ball's weight causes its base to sink, and it rolls neatly into the borrow pit, kerplop, and dissolves. That's enough for me. Rich wants to stay and watch the bitter end. Ken and I walk north to get dinner, then continue on to the ice cream place for some Chunky Monkey. We amble back through the trendy crowd, one sandy Anglo, one bemused Asian with a great laugh. | ||||||||||
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Original: 98-Oct-18
All contents copyright 1998 by
Larry Nelson | ||||||||||
98p17rpt.htm 99 February 13