Yeah right.
West Dean College is a perfect place to study. The courses aren't outrageously priced, the buildings & grounds are breathtaking, the facilities (including the restaurant) are of a high standard and the staff are wonderfully helpful. No, the problem wasn't with the course. The problem was with my head.
Picture the scene: Ten students, one charismatic young tutor and an idea. What would happen if we used the life model as a starting point and then abstracted our sculpture in whatever way takes our fancy? The idea? That in this way we could tap into the creative energy and sculpt something more than just a representation.
Heavy.
Actually I really liked the idea.
In theory.
Which is of course the whole point. It's one thing having a good idea and another turning it into a three dimensional image. Remember, it's been more than twenty years since I last stood in a sculpture studio. I was terrified! There's nothing like fear for shrivelling the creative impulse. Still, I'm a cerebral creature and not one to be put off easily.
"Think of the things you like. Go with your instincts. Shake off your self-talk and really get into the zone. That's where the creative connection lies."
Okay. So I've got an idea: A figure - half man, half woman. The woman has roots and symbolises Mother Earth. The Man has wings and symbolises God made flesh. Sounds like a plan? Ah but now I've got to make it. And that's a whole other ball of wax (or rather, clay).
First the armature. That's the metal skeleton that supports the clay as you build up the sculpture. Brilliant! I love a bit of DIY. Nothing like a bit of banging on wood and metal for destressing. Having the model in front of me helped to clarify how my sculpture should look - the pose, the musculature - if I wanted to be accurate. Accurate is hard work though, and I am inherently lazy. So I quickly moved away from the model and slapped on the clay any old how.
So my creation began life as a man-woman. No more. That's when the idea for the roots came in. I'd scored some lines of movement on the woman and my tutor gouged out great swathes of flesh, making her more tree-like. I was a bit shocked, but I thought I'd persevere.
The thing is, I was struggling with the idea that we should do what we like. Isn't that just staying in our comfort zone, since we like what is familiar? And where is the creativity if we carry on doing what we've always done?
So I thought I'd give the tree lady a go.
But still, I can't escape from who I am. I can't deny what I know. And my roots are in Classical art. So while my classmates gave their sculptures tongues for heads and lips in the middle of their bellies, I referred to photos of The Nike of Samothrace. Have you seen it? Oh it's amazing. It's a 2nd Century BC marble sculpture of the Greek Goddess of Victory. She stands at the top of the main stairway in the Louvre - a symbol of power and triumph. Fab!
She has no head, old Nike. She's all swirling drapery and crowning wings. I'm not a fan of heads. In my sculpture, that is. They sort of get in the way. Interfere with the flow of lines and planes. And since my figurative sculpture usually symbolises something, then it suits me to have no head - more of an Everyman than an individual.
Bollocks.
It's just that I'm too lazy to sculpt the head. Most of the time. In this instance it doesn't need a head - it's got wings. Want to see it?
What do you think?
I can't tell you how relieved I was to get it home. The course was a nightmare! No, I was a nightmare. Midway through the week I was all set to jack it in. The body of the sculpture was going okay. I was fiddling about with the surface but I wasn't happy with the shape of it. It just wasn't right.
That night our tutor told us to go away and find some more references. Anything we liked. Sculptures, textures, written text, anything that would inspire us. That's when I remembered old Nike. The next day I was in there chopping up my sculpture.
Oh, only so I could take the metal armature out. I reckoned that if I was going to change it radically then I wasn't wasting time making the changes if it was going to fall to pieces when we removed its spine.
So I learnt a lesson in pushing through the dark hours in order to get to something better. And about taking risks and seeing where they would lead. Oh but that didn't matter. Within an hour of my big Eureka moment I was back in despair. That's me that is. One minute I'm up, the next I'm down. Like a yoyo. Gives me a headache.
Self Talk. That's what we're doing every time we have a thought. No wonder I have a headache. That critical voice in your head that tells you that you're rubbish, you'll fail - that's Self Talk. Tell yourself you can't do something & you'll probably prove it. But our tutor reminded us that sculpture is 1 part idea and 9 parts hard graft. And he was right.
My next move is to hollow it out. Scary again! Then I'll let it dry out and take it back to the college. I'm booking a day's glazing course so that I can attempt to colour it as I can picture it in my mind. Wish me luck!
Laura x
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