Assignment 3

Project 6: Modelling in plaster.

‘Oxidation 2’

So I rummaged through my very large box of polystyrene bits and pieces and found what I was looking for. I needed and discovered some sturdy pieces that I could fashion into something that might vaguely resemble my ‘Oxidation’ sculpture’ from Part 2. Project 3. I started out using my saw edged knife. I soon abandoned that knife in favour of long bladed craft knife. Too many loose bits flying everywhere. I stood the original on the work bench so I could study its form as I constructed the new version. Having cut all the required pieces to shape I then glued them into place. I cut about a dozen lengths of jute scrim in readiness. I mixed some some quality Crystacal R plaster in a flexi bucket and dipped half of the scrim into the creamy liquid plaster. I made the mistake of starting the plaster cladding directly on to the base board. I would need to separate the finished project from the board upon completion. I managed to achieve separation once the plaster had semi dried. This time I would place plastic sheeting between each surface.

The jute scrim is quite chunky and seems to have a mind of its own. I struggled at the start and cheated a little. I wanted to retain as much detail as possible and so I used some fine, ready impregnated jute, otherwise known as Mod-Roc. This was used sparingly. It was never going to be an exact copy of the original but I think I achieved a good likeness. I have worked with plaster on many occasions but never in this way. It was a revelation. Taking a flexible material like polystyrene and transforming it into a robust, rigid entity gave me great satisfaction.

It’s not strictly an external piece. With the addition of a liquid polymer, this could be achieved. I thought long and hard about the finish. Should I go way out? perhaps fluorescent pink? leave it white or perhaps some spots as in Kusama’s work. I opted for a dirty clean metallic finish. This is how the original might have appeared before the rust formed on it surface. Using the trusty Zinsser 123 mixed with some grey pigment, I coated the sculpture using a cheap brush. This primer was good enough to use as a base. I grabbed an old rag, dipped it in some Modern Masters acrylic silver paint and began daubing the grey primed surface. I don’t think the photographs show off the finish particularly well and to my mind, the work looks better in the flesh.

‘Julie’ (2019)

I dug deep into my box of polystyrene scraps and pulled out a nice long piece. This would act as the base for ‘Julie’ in plaster. I cut the piece down to 70 cm’s. I stood back and looked at the oblong. I wondered just how I was going to achieve that same shape as the version in clay. Undaunted, I began to shape the polystyrene using my craft knife. The central hole was a bit tricky. The arms should have been wood but I thought I’d set myself a challenge and use polystyrene. This helped me to attain an organic look. I recently read of a sculptor who used welding gloves when working with clay. This helped him to achieve a more rustic finish. I had a few ideas about how I might achieve different textural finishes. I had considered using a comb. This would have been a relatively easy process. One would have to work quickly to produce a well groomed piece. Alternatively, why not throw caution to the wind and take your time. This way, the plaster starts to harden and you could attain a riotously rustic look. The grooves left by the comb would be advantageous. They would hold a background colour well and emphasise the fore. I had also considered encasing ‘Oxidation 2’ in tin foil. Another idea was to uniformly embed objects like small pebbles, broken coloured glass or seashells into the semi set plaster. I could have screeded over remaining gaps perhaps with pigmented plaster using a flexible spreader.

I eventually elected to finish ‘Julie’ in faux aged, oxidised bronze. It just seemed to suit the Moore-like solidity of the piece. This must have been a subconscious decision based on my observed perception of much of his work. Had the piece been filligree in nature like say, that of Richier’s ‘The Bat’, then I might have considered a showy finish like silver or gold.

Number one: Having never attempted clay sculpting on this scale before, I was apprehensive about the outcome. For my initial sculpture I opted for the ‘maybe not’. My mind was quite empty and I just let my hands run riot. I knew I had to explore internal and external form so I needed to put a hole somewhere and maybe a few indentations. Semi pleased with the result. On reflection, that bit on the top looks like some kind of handle. Perhaps a handle on a surreal teapot. A many spouted chocolate teapot straight out of your worst nightmare. Never eat cheese just before bedtime.

Number two: My second attempt was a little more adventurous. This face gradually took on the form of a member of my table tennis club, a pinch of Winston Churchill and soupcon of Satan. I have no idea how or why these features materialised. Half way through I began to think of Churchill. He was staring back at me. I knew I had to destroy my efforts in order to make my next piece. I got my home made cheese wire and sliced the face. The face now became two halves. A split face, a split personality. Like my sculpture, there were two sides to Churchill. The celebrated heroic wartime leader on the one hand and someone with very dubious views on race, eugenics and women’s rights on the other. I thought I’d playfully slay the beast with my axe.

Number three: I really wasn’t sure where I was going with this one. I had an overwhelming desire to recreate some kind of ethnic artefact. It could be something that’s lain dormant in the crevices of my psyche. Part of me thinks it’s an oil lamp and a part of me thinks it’s a figure on a camel. It might be easier to decipher a Rorschach psychological inkblot test.

Number four: I think I’ll call her Julie. Extending upwards and outwards proved to be difficult when it came to her arms. I had to use wire to support the weight of the clay. The holes were just a means to fulfil the criteria of the exercise and have no specific meaning. One might argue that the larger hole is symbolic of all heartless parents. Over five decades they have forced innocent children to watch ‘The Sound of Music’. I’m still speculating. These days I can take or leave Julie Andrews. I don’t know why my efforts seemed to have morphed into Julie. Perhaps I have subconsciously channelled my own tortured childhood memories on to the clay via my hands?

Number five: With an express desire to be bold, take risks and have fun, I elected to make a diving helmet besieged by an octopus. I took the clay from the last sculpture and reformed it into a sphere. I think I was influenced by a recent trip to my local Sealife Centre. Before I got started I thought I’d take a brief diversion into the world of Auguste Rodin. The main body of the piece was quite straight forward but the tentacles proved to be awkward. They fell off a couple of times. It was frustrating. I had to rework the clay and use wire to fix in place. I accept that this might not be an option if the work were to be fired in a kiln.

Bonus: For this piece, I wanted to create a geometric Celtic cross. This looked like it might easier to achieve than the diving helmet, however, this was not the case. Trying to keep things symmetrical proved difficult. The cut outs in the cross weakened its structure. I think the weight in combination with my choice of pattern and size added to my problem of stability. I persevered but not a great success. At this stage I feel I should mention how difficult it is to take photographs at various stages. Obviously, this is a messy job and you have to wash your hands between each shot unless you want to ruin your expensive camera. Far better if you can, is to enlist the help of a capable person to take those images whilst you continue your work. Sadly, I live in a village full of incapable people.