If we have learned anything from 2020, it is that anything can happen. We have all been bruised, isolated, scared, squeezed (more financial than physical), abused by leaders who put themselves first, and forced to be patient with any service we may require.
This won’t last forever. But normal as we knew it is over. It is never too soon to envision how change can be for the better. That vision of change is called hope. Cast your net wide. See what you can draw into your life.
This is a tribute to the Portland, Oregon woman who confronted “federal troops” during the Black Lives Matter demonstrations. While some chose rocks and bottles to challenge authorities, she wore her nakedness as a mask of courage to confront the federal troops.
I rendered her in a rainbow palette. From my perspective, we are all people of colors – many colors. We cannot limit people by the color of the skin they are born into. Skin color is not our choice. We can, however, elevate ourselves by through the colors of our character. We have the option to accept many colors into our lives. That is our choice for how we relate and function within our communities.
This sculpture is both a figure and a mask. The nature of a mask is twofold. It can disguise the wearer to conceal her/his identify. Or, it can amplify an archetypal quality. The Mask of Athena is a reminder that we can choose to confront injustice and absurd abuse of power. It doesn’t take a shield or a sword or rocks and bottles. It just takes the courage to expose the naked truth.
The form before it became space.
The original human form touched all six surfaces of the cube. This is what remains after the clay figure was packed in a plaster mix and the figure then removed. Negative space is all that remains of the missing person.
“Missing Person” was created for the 2918 International Sculpture Conference in Portland, Oregon.
The world as we knew it is being torn apart beneath our feet. What was once stable ground is now uncertain.
As the fissure expands, a new world is revealed, new possibilities. From chaos comes order.
“Torn” symbolizes a temporary state of chaos as it gives way to a new reality. It is much like the nebulous zone between consciousness and unconsciousness – the state where images reveal themselves. Those images lead ultimately to new archetypes.
There is a way forward,but it may not be immediately obvious. The Greek definition of apocalypse is not about disaster, but the invisible being revealed. We need to look beyond the moment to the opportunities as they are unveiled. Endure the uncertainty with confidence that something wonderful is indeed happening.
Mixed media sculpture.
This short video is the result of a series of sketches that began in 2017. I’ve been exploring these characters whenever and whenever they reoccur in my imagination. In the past month, it was time to take the sketches to a realized form. This painting/sculpture is a combination of ideas that didn’t conform to either 2- or 3-dimension.
I have a number of methods for generating ideas. It’s a result of a career as a creative director. Recognizing when I’m stuck and managing how I get unstuck is always an opportunity to take a step forward.
When I’m ready to create a new sculpture, I just start drawing. Anything. It doesn’t matter what. The important thing is to do something. Make marks on paper. Then I look at it for a few minutes. Maybe draw over the lines and add some shading. Look at it some more. Turn the page upside down. If nothing happens, skip back a few pages in my sketch book to see what I’ve drawn recently. Then return to the newest sketch. That usually helps me see something in the new sketch I didn’t see before.
The slightest hint of an alternative is a point of exploration. What if? What else can I do with it? I might redraw it and exaggerate an edge or shape. Then, redraw it again several times, modifying it a little with each version. That usually results in a fresh path of exploration. Then, it’s simply a process of pushing that idea further with successive sketches until I have something different from anything I’ve created previously.
Being stuck is nonsense. It’s a temporary lack of momentum. The trick is to create momentum in any direction and once the ideas are moving again, each will feed the next.
I’ve never written a novel, a film script or anything longer than a 20-minute tutorial. But, I have a hundred film titles and first lines. Maybe 3 hundred titles for novels with the first few sentences.
“Waiting for Del Toro” is one that has been in my head for a while. It’s not a film or a novel. It turned into a sculpture which is no small commitment of time. I’ve read Guillermo del Toro’s “Cabinet of Curiosities” which seemed like a place I’ve been before. I have seen several of his films and appreciate his sense of mythology and mystery. His imagination and his ability to convert ideas into grand visuals is unequaled. I don’t share his fascination with monsters, but lean more toward to more benevolent archetypes.
But, somewhere along the way, I decided to have some fun with my own interpretation of the Del Toro mystic and/or what his imagination must be like. I’m sure it is fertile ground.
This piece is both consistent and significantly different from most of my work, depending on how you see it. Regardless, it was fun to create and to imagine it as part of Guillemero del Toro’s art collection someday.
This is the time we start thinking about what we will accomplish in the New Year. Resolutions, however, are often short lived. One obstacle for following through is a lack of support. You may have an exercise buddy to remind you when it’s time to work out. But what about your more personal goals?
Several years ago, I started creating characters from different materials around my studio. My inspiration was a series of petroglyphs I had sketched near Sedona. They intrigued me. Their gestures were subtle, but expressive. As I studied them, I began to appreciate the power of their forms. I don’t claim to understand their specific names or meaning. But they touched something deeper, something universal in my soul. Like actors in a play, each is an archetype for a specific quality.
I felt if I could capture those gestures and remake them into my own characters, I could invoke the power of those archetypes. I have always believed that the images we hold in our mind are what shape our lives. Creating these images is a form of meditation. Focusing on specific images leads you toward that quality. Kindness, strength, compassion, these are examples of qualities that can be transformed into your own personal kachina.
Whether I’m creating a complete figure or only a mask, the time and energy spent bring my full attention to the spirit of that character. What I have discovered is worth sharing.
January 18-20, I’ll be leading “Meet and Make Your Spirit Guide,” a workshop/playshop at The Lowe House in Tubac, Arizona. It’s a playful, but thoughtful series of discussions and hands-on character making. We will each identify a quality to manifest in the New Year. By sketching and creating a figure or mask to represents that quality, you begin to focus your attention and decisions toward that reality.
My teaching style is playful, highly interactive and full of imagination. No previous experience necessary. All you need is curiosity and a willingness to explore. The group will be small.
Chas Martin is a sculptor/painter from Portland, Oregon where he mentors other artists and leads classes on watercolor, acrylic and sculpture. He is a former creative director whose career has focused on nurturing the creativity of those around him. He is a former instructor at Boston Art Institute, San Francisco Academy of Art, Pacific Northwest College of Art, Northwest Academy and Sitka Center for Art and Ecology.
This ritual started about four years ago while flipping pages through a book. I found a Celtic alter which consisted of three rocks. I drew it a few times. It looked like the character "pi" which seem to lack something. So I rendered it a few times, then put a head on it. After repeating the four strokes a number of times, it felt like a good sequence for a daily ritual. Hundreds of renderings later, I have boxes filled with variations. This is a short, random selection.
The process is simple. Each day I choose a brush, never the same one as the day before. Then I select a pigment, or two. Never the same as the day before. Some days I use a single brush. Some days I choose two. I may use a single pigment or mix two on a single brush - of four pigments on two brushes. The paper is whatever is handy. Maybe a piece of cardboard. Maybe rice paper. Maybe watercolor paper.
Prepare the brush. Take a breath. Create the character. Watch what happens. When pigments hit the surface, I have an immediate reaction to the marks. It looks like a warrior, a bird, a leaping frog, dancer, singer, tiger, something different every day. And they change as they dry.
I keep each day's image visible while I work in my studio. When I get stuck or need time to think, I look at today's character and I know how to proceed.
