07P-1, New Year Day
The report follows the images. At the bottom of the page is a special presentation of images by my friend SuZi Zimmerman, who came by on this warm day to chat for a while.
The Broad Base
Free-piled sculpture has a few deep sink-holes that act as design attractors, due to the physical constraints. One of the classic ones is the tower-on-base profile that ends up resembling a crouching lion or alert sea lion. If you want height in a free-pile you have to keep the sand wet, and a broad area takes too long. So, you end up with a narrow tower.
Well, if it's a constraint, work with it. Transcend it. The December 30 sculpture showed some promise but still elicited too many "sea lion" comments from passers-by, and also failed in some other ways. My mental model for the New Year piece made a caricature of the tower. Call attention to them. Flaunt their unique place on the sculpture.
Build number: 07P-1
Title: none
Date: January 1
Location: Venice Breakwater, south side
Start: 1030; construction time approx 4 hours
Height: about 3 feet
Base: about 6 by 2.5 feet
Assistant: none
Photo digital: EOS-1D w/20mm, walkaround and details, 26 images
Photo 35mm: none
Photo 6X7: none
Photo volunteer: Rich, w/Canon SD520
Video: none
Equipment note: expanded portable tool subset, skateboard transport
My mind saw an elongated, domed base with some little egg-shaped protuberances angling out from it. There was a problem, however, as LeTourneau observed: "There are no big jobs. Just small tools." To make the base big enough, even with the provided coarse overburden sand, required moving more sand than bare hands can really stand.
Underneath the top layer of coarse sand is some really good stuff. I scrape off the overburden and use it to make the domed base, but even adding some from the uphill side just doesn't make it big enough. Then the really good sand draws me even farther away from the original concept as it retains water long enough for me to add multiple pats on each layer. It gradually tapers as it goes up but it completely dominates the base. OK, so we have a monolith on a nice sokkel. Sand sculptors have to be flexible.
The design impulse is alive but some skills are rusty. The major lesson I've learned in the last few years is that the more attention I pay to the overall shape of the piece, the better it turns out. So, I work around this one, trimming and polishing toward a shape that's reasonably attractive in itself. Once that's done I start thinking about the details.
So, the muse is still alive and shaking off the effects of a year's forced idleness. The finger-feel of tool placement is a bit lacking and results in breaking through in a place I hadn't really desired, and the resulting hole gets bigger than planned. It thus becomes part of a new plan, and other parts of the sculpture will have to be enlarged to balance this one little thing. Don't fight this. To do so is to become frustrated. There are times to impose the will and times to impose the will... differently.
The idle time seems not to have been completely wasted. I find myself concentrating on how the sculpture's parts fit with each other, and sketching them on the outside before actually carving sand away allows me to step back and look at the piece. Subtle changes here and there make the various shapes fit together better.
The long afternoon flows past, smoothly. Gladsome sunshine resists the cool breeze that lifts a few kites. It's nice to be back, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. People I've met here on previous sculpting days come by. Rudy and his wife, on their walk to the pier. Sigrid and Ed. Some whose names I don't remember. All smile and say "We're glad you're back. So many times we walk over the sand and hope to see one of your sculptures here." They thank me for the gift. They are among the usual New Year Day throng: surfers running to the waves, kids running to catch retreating wavelets, adults chasing the kids.
I just have to work with one small pile of sand. This is a luxury in free-piling as my usual desire for complexity leads me to build more than I can effectively carve. This one has more of a formed sculpture sensibility than I've done before. Only the shell fragments make a major difference. In some cases I can work around them, or tease them out gently, or carve with a light touch so that when they pull out they don't take big chunks of sand with them. The portability advantages of free-piling are very inviting. Just getting the sheer mass of formed sculpture equipment across the beach is a big task. Here, all my tools came in a backpack and I arrived by skateboard.
One space leads to another as the sun works its way across the sky. The real trick is knowing when to quit. The north side looks OK, but perhaps a bit simple, and I need a way to get some light in there. So, I shape a hole and cut it through. The result isn't the best I've ever done but it works.
"I think that's about it, Rich. Time for clean-up."
"Ah, I forgot to bring the little cosmetic brush."
I use the end of the big brush to get in and delicately remove the loose sand. The job is far from perfect but another important characteristic of free-piled sand is that it dries faster than formed, so the structures are weakening. I'm afraid to touch them with anything but the lightest touch.
"That pretty well does it. Now I need to shape the base."
I smooth everything out. I hadn't planned on signing the sculpture, but as I do the base clean-up someone says "Oh, he's about to put in his signature." OK. I find a place, loosen the sand and push my hands into it.
"That's it."
"Looks good. I think it's your best free-pile ever. I don't remember one with so much detail."
"There have been others, but none of them worked this well."
"It makes good shadows."
He's right. Photographing this one is fun, even if I just have the 20mm wide-angle. I need something less wide but haven't gotten around to buying it. So, I just get close and don't worry about the odd perspective effects.
Then I can just stand there and soak up some sunlight. It's surprisingly early, especially considering the sculpture's complexity.
Well, it's simple and complex. The base is quite simple, and there are broad areas of smooth sand that separate the detailed and windowed sections. As usual there are disappointments but fewer than many sculptures have had. I like it.
Rich passes around cookies to friends who stop by. Sand sculptors run on chocolate. For a while, anyway, but I'm pretty much done for the day. We watch the light change and then, well, it's just time.
"I'm about to fall asleep, Rich. Time to go."
Picking up my kit just takes a minute, and we walk off the beach.
"There's a lot to be said for being able to pick up and walk off with your transportation," Rich says.
I laugh. "Yes. One of the beauties of skateboards." I look ahead at the bike path, busy with afternoon riders. "I think I'll just walk on over to the alley and go north that way."
We walk on, past the skaters, the vendors, the tourists, the crowds.
"You may want to think twice about using the alley."
I look up. A steady stream of cars comes out. "You're right. I'll use some of the side streets beyond the circle."
We walk on, talking about this and that. Rich has come out for most of the sculptures I've done since 1995.
"My car is just by the post office. I can give you a ride home."
"Oh, I think I'll take you up on that. Thank you."
I ride home in unaccustomed luxury, nearly blind with fatigue, sunken in the seat.
2007-January-2
And, as a bonus, here are some images by SuZi, she of the "End of the Western World" video.
The Broad Base
Free-piled sculpture has a few deep sink-holes that act as design attractors, due to the physical constraints. One of the classic ones is the tower-on-base profile that ends up resembling a crouching lion or alert sea lion. If you want height in a free-pile you have to keep the sand wet, and a broad area takes too long. So, you end up with a narrow tower.
Well, if it's a constraint, work with it. Transcend it. The December 30 sculpture showed some promise but still elicited too many "sea lion" comments from passers-by, and also failed in some other ways. My mental model for the New Year piece made a caricature of the tower. Call attention to them. Flaunt their unique place on the sculpture.
Build number: 07P-1
Title: none
Date: January 1
Location: Venice Breakwater, south side
Start: 1030; construction time approx 4 hours
Height: about 3 feet
Base: about 6 by 2.5 feet
Assistant: none
Photo digital: EOS-1D w/20mm, walkaround and details, 26 images
Photo 35mm: none
Photo 6X7: none
Photo volunteer: Rich, w/Canon SD520
Video: none
Equipment note: expanded portable tool subset, skateboard transport
My mind saw an elongated, domed base with some little egg-shaped protuberances angling out from it. There was a problem, however, as LeTourneau observed: "There are no big jobs. Just small tools." To make the base big enough, even with the provided coarse overburden sand, required moving more sand than bare hands can really stand.
Underneath the top layer of coarse sand is some really good stuff. I scrape off the overburden and use it to make the domed base, but even adding some from the uphill side just doesn't make it big enough. Then the really good sand draws me even farther away from the original concept as it retains water long enough for me to add multiple pats on each layer. It gradually tapers as it goes up but it completely dominates the base. OK, so we have a monolith on a nice sokkel. Sand sculptors have to be flexible.
The design impulse is alive but some skills are rusty. The major lesson I've learned in the last few years is that the more attention I pay to the overall shape of the piece, the better it turns out. So, I work around this one, trimming and polishing toward a shape that's reasonably attractive in itself. Once that's done I start thinking about the details.
So, the muse is still alive and shaking off the effects of a year's forced idleness. The finger-feel of tool placement is a bit lacking and results in breaking through in a place I hadn't really desired, and the resulting hole gets bigger than planned. It thus becomes part of a new plan, and other parts of the sculpture will have to be enlarged to balance this one little thing. Don't fight this. To do so is to become frustrated. There are times to impose the will and times to impose the will... differently.
The idle time seems not to have been completely wasted. I find myself concentrating on how the sculpture's parts fit with each other, and sketching them on the outside before actually carving sand away allows me to step back and look at the piece. Subtle changes here and there make the various shapes fit together better.
The long afternoon flows past, smoothly. Gladsome sunshine resists the cool breeze that lifts a few kites. It's nice to be back, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. People I've met here on previous sculpting days come by. Rudy and his wife, on their walk to the pier. Sigrid and Ed. Some whose names I don't remember. All smile and say "We're glad you're back. So many times we walk over the sand and hope to see one of your sculptures here." They thank me for the gift. They are among the usual New Year Day throng: surfers running to the waves, kids running to catch retreating wavelets, adults chasing the kids.
I just have to work with one small pile of sand. This is a luxury in free-piling as my usual desire for complexity leads me to build more than I can effectively carve. This one has more of a formed sculpture sensibility than I've done before. Only the shell fragments make a major difference. In some cases I can work around them, or tease them out gently, or carve with a light touch so that when they pull out they don't take big chunks of sand with them. The portability advantages of free-piling are very inviting. Just getting the sheer mass of formed sculpture equipment across the beach is a big task. Here, all my tools came in a backpack and I arrived by skateboard.
One space leads to another as the sun works its way across the sky. The real trick is knowing when to quit. The north side looks OK, but perhaps a bit simple, and I need a way to get some light in there. So, I shape a hole and cut it through. The result isn't the best I've ever done but it works.
"I think that's about it, Rich. Time for clean-up."
"Ah, I forgot to bring the little cosmetic brush."
I use the end of the big brush to get in and delicately remove the loose sand. The job is far from perfect but another important characteristic of free-piled sand is that it dries faster than formed, so the structures are weakening. I'm afraid to touch them with anything but the lightest touch.
"That pretty well does it. Now I need to shape the base."
I smooth everything out. I hadn't planned on signing the sculpture, but as I do the base clean-up someone says "Oh, he's about to put in his signature." OK. I find a place, loosen the sand and push my hands into it.
"That's it."
"Looks good. I think it's your best free-pile ever. I don't remember one with so much detail."
"There have been others, but none of them worked this well."
"It makes good shadows."
He's right. Photographing this one is fun, even if I just have the 20mm wide-angle. I need something less wide but haven't gotten around to buying it. So, I just get close and don't worry about the odd perspective effects.
Then I can just stand there and soak up some sunlight. It's surprisingly early, especially considering the sculpture's complexity.
Well, it's simple and complex. The base is quite simple, and there are broad areas of smooth sand that separate the detailed and windowed sections. As usual there are disappointments but fewer than many sculptures have had. I like it.
Rich passes around cookies to friends who stop by. Sand sculptors run on chocolate. For a while, anyway, but I'm pretty much done for the day. We watch the light change and then, well, it's just time.
"I'm about to fall asleep, Rich. Time to go."
Picking up my kit just takes a minute, and we walk off the beach.
"There's a lot to be said for being able to pick up and walk off with your transportation," Rich says.
I laugh. "Yes. One of the beauties of skateboards." I look ahead at the bike path, busy with afternoon riders. "I think I'll just walk on over to the alley and go north that way."
We walk on, past the skaters, the vendors, the tourists, the crowds.
"You may want to think twice about using the alley."
I look up. A steady stream of cars comes out. "You're right. I'll use some of the side streets beyond the circle."
We walk on, talking about this and that. Rich has come out for most of the sculptures I've done since 1995.
"My car is just by the post office. I can give you a ride home."
"Oh, I think I'll take you up on that. Thank you."
I ride home in unaccustomed luxury, nearly blind with fatigue, sunken in the seat.
2007-January-2
And, as a bonus, here are some images by SuZi, she of the "End of the Western World" video.
# © 1765 by Larry @ 
