Monday, November 12, 2012

Why Wire?

Imagine you wanted to create something.
Imagine, you felt this all compelling need to make something.  You have a vision. In your head, say for example, of a horse. It's trotting. Not an ordinary, just go a little faster, I guess I can go a little faster than a walk, little lazy trot, but a full on, pound the earth trot that is just shy of breaking into a full on gallop (horse people will know what I mean).
Now imagine you want to draw that something out of nothing. Black and white. White being nothing, and black being that thing. That thing in your head you have to make happen or it will eat at you and pester you and eventually give up and make you sad and empty if you do nothing with it.
So you take a black line and you start to draw. Problem is, that thing, that THING is constantly moving. Shifting. Hooves going up and down. An ear flicks, the tail switches. You are frantic with the black line trying to capture that second, the flare of the nostril the width of the hoof, the twitch along the withers. You cannot draw fast enough.
Now imagine you can see this in three dimensions. From every angle, from the soft curve under the belly, the whiskers under the chin, the way the legs work in unison, to the particular sound beat that a trot makes up. The whole animal, not some flattened screen, shows up in you head and your mind races around it, over and though it, bones, joints, fat and muscle and fur and mane and movement. So much movement.
Now, say, rather than a pen or pencil and paper you take a piece of black wire. A singular black line in space. Imagine drawing a horse on paper without ever lifting up the pen, then imagine you are doing that in three dimensional space. A twitched ear, a back kick and a sense of momentum.
Eventually you use enough wire, drawing everything you can, and have a sculpture that stands by itself. You've created enough lines in every direction that the idea now has a shape, a form, a strength and presence all its own, and that's when you take the pliers and you cut the wire off the spool. It's a bit like cutting an umbilical cord. Now that horse IS, and your hands hurt, just enough.

More of my wire art-