||In the sculptor's words...
When I was
six and a half years old, my parents bought me a small guitar. The classical lessons that they started me on soon
proved too rigorous but the river of folk music that flowed through the middle 1950s had
captivated both of my parents and my guitar and I were caught up in the current. We joined folk music groups, learned hundreds of
songs, sang in the car and music became an inseparable part of my youth. When I started sculpting at 18, a guitar player
seemed like a natural subject. I played
guitar, knew what it looked like, and had the emotional connection. But a successful sculptural interpretation proved
elusive. It was probably my intimate
familiarity with the instrument that was the stumbling block. After all, I knew what a guitar looked like. Every time I attempted a guitar player, the guitar
remained static and separate from the maker of the music.
Capturing the sound was easier said than done.
In fact, it took me forty years to find a solution. While setting up at an art festival I struck up a
conversation with a passer by. His name was
Roman and he played guitar in a rock and roll band. I
asked Roman to pretend he was playing onstage and being a good sport he complied. While we were talking I started sculpting. (I always have modeling wax with me and often
sculpt in front of the public.) As Roman
strummed the air my own inspiration struck. The
overly long neck of my just-started wax guitar became a dancing vibrant, barely controlled
line of hard driving rock and roll. It must
have taken all of 15 minutes. It just took 40
years to find it. Thanks, Roman.
Bronze maquette for monumental bronze
approximately 7 feet in height
For information on this sculpture, please