Most people have never seen a bird carving. First time viewers often express surprise that lifelike birds can be fashioned from hunks of wood and then . . . they move in for a close view of the details of the bird and its habitat. It happened while I was setting up an exhibit of fifteen carvings at a local senior citizen community in February 2020. Every person who happened by during the set up stopped to look. Several said “You made those birds! Really?” and then the questions started. What kind of wood do you use? Paint? How do you get those little lines? The flowers are made of brass! Really!? The exhibit was supposed to come down in late March, but covid-19 swept the world. So, the carvings are sheltering in place with the rest of us. I hope that the natural moments captured in carvings bring moments of joy to a difficult time. |
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Reading about color theory, attending workshops, observing the work of other artists have helped me understand how to use paint to add more life to my carvings. In spite of steady progress, I have long felt that I have lots of disconnected pieces of knowledge floating in my head with no clue as to how to connect them. Finally! The pieces are coming together through an online color theory course taught by Lori Corbett, the author of Carving Award-Winning Songbirds: An Encyclopedia of Carving, Sculpting, and Painting Techniques. The course is carefully crafted to build a mental foundation for understanding color theory coupled with lots of guided practice. Lori gives a video critique to each student for each assignment. I'm only half-way through the course, but I'm already applying new learnings to a tufted titmouse I was carving when the course started! No paint more experiments that are leaps of faith like the common loon in the previous post. Experimenting will continue, but it will be grounded in a systematic way of thinking about colors. Paydirt!
My first carving teacher, Maria LaGoy, told me sketching birds - even if my sketches were terrible - would improve my carving because I would learn to see details. While sketching, I've noticed details that might otherwise slip by unseen. For example, while sketching a greater yellowlegs the bird vomited! Not the most useful information in the world, but if a child ever asks me whether birds throw up I can answer YES with conviction!
I made a more helpful observation while sketching harlequin ducks feeding in the ocean off Rockport, Massachusetts on a sunny winter day. While a duck was actively feeding it held its tail up while floating on the ocean between dives, but when it had eaten its fill the bird relaxed its tail and head. That tidbit will be useful when I carve a harlequin duck. On a summer afternoon I was watching common eiders at Liberty Point on Campobello Island in Canada when two men appeared with a park ranger. The men were lichen experts on their way to teach workshop at the Humbolt Institute. One sat down and gave me impromptu lichen lesson about the zonation of lichen on the rocky outcropping in the picture posted below. Learning to see lichen zonation will be helpful when I carve rocky habitat where pelagic birds nest.
Janice's bird carvings will be part of a three-artist exhibition in January 2017 in the Hosmer Gallery at Forbes Library, Northampton, Massachusetts. An artist reception will occur on January 14 from 1:00-4:00.
Click here for information about the artists and gallery times.
In a carving seminar in which the instructor pushed students to use an airbrush, a classmate judged my resistance to learn the technique as fear. “I’m not afraid. I’ve tried it and it takes me out of the creative process,” I responded. He persisted in pressuring me and insisted a carving can look soft only if painted with an airbrush. I told my classmate that Bob Guge created life-like softness with a paint brush. “You’re no Bob Guge,” he said with a demeaning, critical tone.
I will never paint with the softness of Bob Guge, but he inspired me to try. My goal is to express the beauty I see in birds through a carving. Reaching for how to express that beauty can best be achieved with a brush that I hold in my hand and that touches the bird I’m creating. When I’m working on a bird, I get lost in the process. I lose my sense of time. Everything falls away except for the bird and me. I feel the connection with every stroke of my paint brush. Controlling a metal airbrush while surrounded by the noise from the compressor that powers the airbrush generates a barrier between me and the bird. The creative impulse is obscured. The metal and noise reminds me of the mask that obscured Darth Vader’s humanity. Perhaps I could feel connected to a bird if I spent enough hours practicing with an airbrush, but I could never escape the noise, the hassle of the inevitable clogs, and the mess to clean up afterward. Breathing is breathing, the impulse to create is the impulse to create whether the carver is a novice or a master. The joy of losing oneself in reaching to express beauty when in the grip of that impulse is the same in every carver, every artist. The journey is the same even if the end product differs in quality. Are you a carver? Do you use an airbrush, paint brush, or both? What do you like about your choice? A mother, father, and their seven-year old son Ryan accepted the invitation to observe wood carving classes held in Lake Placid, New York last month. Ryan proclaimed "I want to carve a loon" when he entered a room filled with carvers fashioning common loons. I responded by saying he's a bit young to try, but someone in a carving club near his home might be willing to teach him. His parents chatted with our teacher, Butch Clark, as they investigated the work of each student. Ryan chatted with me.
I asked if he really wanted to carve a loon. Ryan said, "Yes. I love loons. I love to draw birds and do it all the time. I would love to carve a loon!" I explained that carving might be difficult at his age, but that some carving teachers start children on bars of soap which require less hand strength than wood. Ryan suggested that perhaps he should focus on drawing then try carving in a few years. I validated his idea by sharing that I'm learning to draw because it helps me see birds better which, in turn, helps me carve better. Perhaps focusing on drawing now will put him ahead of the game when he starts carving later. He smiled a smile that conveyed that he knew the next steps in his journey as a bird artist. Our conversation was between two artists; that I am sixty one years older than Ryan and that I have been carving for years while he has not yet carved his first bird were insignificant details. After Ryan and his parents left, I told Butch my sense that Ryan is one of those people who have a call to carving. Butch had learned from Ryan's parents that they live quite near Jim O'Dea - a carving teacher and the organizer of the Lake Placid Carving Experience Event. Upon hearing my sense of Ryan's deep desire to learn, he found Ryan's parents and introduced the family to Jim who agreed to teach Ryan and his parents how to carve. Ryan's love of drawing birds, especially loons, may be a flame that burns brightly briefly then dies out as is usual with the interests of seven-year-olds. But maybe, just maybe he is one of the lucky few who discover their life passion in childhood. Maybe a short conversation with a stranger will add fuel to a fire that will burn within the boy for decades. |
ABOUT AUTHORJanice has been a bird carver since 2002. She carves basswood with knives and tupelo with power tools. Her favorite is which ever wood she has in her hands at the moment. Archives
April 2020
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