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The report follows the images
The early morning is calm, quiet and cool under low clouds. I go a block and a half through the damp air, then return to get the monopod. It helped the last time in taming Sculptor's Palsy.
The summer day will be long. There's no need to start this early but to catch the low tide. I'd prefer an afternoon-to-sunset sculpture because the light is better for photography. The tide is right now and the sand is good. So, I make my way to the beach and walk out onto the broad expanse of dark and smooth sand.
Build number: 17F-2 (lifetime start #344); monolith on low riser
Title: "Etude, op. 344, (Spaces)"
Date: June 28
Location: Venice Breakwater, isthmus
Start: 0715, construction time approx. 6.5 hours
Size: about 41 inches tall, 21 inches diameter
Technique: Latchform, Box Filter 2, four full loads intertidal sand
Digital Images: 28, EOS-5D Mk IV and 85mm F/1.8, with RRS monopod (safeties and completed)
Volunteer photography: Larry Dudock, hand-held process and complete, and intervalometer
Volunteer videography: Larry Dudock, process and equipment
New Tools: none
New Equipment: none
I'd been looking at images of previous sculptures, with their hollows and graceful internal tendrils. My last several pieces have been more solid, exploring big shapes and how they fit together.
The process has changed. An arch, which is what I started with, is basically a thin shape of sand around a large void. That idea has guided what I've done ever since. Sculptures have been defined as space surrounded by sand. Shaping the hole shapes the solid pieces, but what happens when one thinks more about the solid parts?
Well, I ran immediately into the problem of how the solid parts fit with each other and into the sculpture's overall dimensions. For this sculpture I wanted to work more with space.
The question is always about how to fit a graceful shape within the basic cylinder. First, I have to make the cylinder. The last one required four cart-loads of sand and a partial fifth load, and there was some sand left over. This time I fill the cart as full as is practical and run four loads to see how far that gets me.
"What are you looking for here?" She's curly-haired, aniimated.
"Sand." I look back, with a small sly smile.
"You see, the sand here is finer than it is up higher." I point to the lighter-colored area near the high tide line. "Finer sand holds together better."
"Sand is remarkable. I do experiments with clay and sand. People send me sand from all over the world, and I see how the sand works with the clay."
"I did some of that at Cal State LA, years ago. The sand turned everything red. Low-fire."
"This is high-fire. Different clays and sands respond differently."
At first I think I'll be short of sand but the four full loads actually get me within an inch of the form's top, well within the "diminishing returns" area where water and sand splash out as I pack.
"What are you doing?"
"Sand sculpture. I'm nearly done packing the sand."
"I've been working on short video projects of artists in California."
"Have you heard of Suzi Zimmermann? She was here some years ago and made a short documentary about Venice artists."
"I haven't heard of her. I'm from Cal State Long Beach, and have various students working on projects. Do you have a Web site?"
"Yes. A blog, because it's quick and easy."
"I don't have anything to write on. Can you contact me through CSBLB?"
"I'll try to remember."
"And I'll see if I can find your blog."
This reminds me that I really need to get some simple business cards printed. I used to bring a pencil and scratch paper, but that never worked well in the damp, with sand.
After some food and water, I start carving to the plan in my mind. Idea is one thing, sand is another, and as people start to gather on this warming summer day the distractions mount. I focus and ignore as much as I can, staying my carving tool until I have considered where the carved surface may go.
It's another win for the Filter Trivet. There are no shell fragments in the sand to catch on a tool edge. A small thing, yes, but I like this lack of interruption in the sensual process of carving fine sand.
Everything changes in the making. Translating what the mind's eye sees into the sand's hard reality is a fascinating process of carve-and-respond. Is what I see in my mind really better than what's coming out in the sand? How disciplined do I want to be? Enough, but not too much, and there's always the potential of a design-driven engineering mistake putting the whole piece on the ground in pieces.
The result is much different from what I set out to make. No real surprise there. Maybe it's a necessary tension, maybe it's necessary exploration, maybe it's a simple lack of interest in excessive direction even from myself. Call it leaving room for the happy accident.
There are some happy accidents here, traced in the lines of curves that I tried harder to move to something beyond a default connection. The intended delicate connections across the big broadly concave surface became more sturdy than delicate, but it is a summer afternoon, and busy.
2. Exterior Distractions
One thing is sure: I've had enough of the noisy crowds. The sculpture wants more work but the basics are there. I have accomplished what I intended to, and perform a hurried clean-up and then some photography while people yell and spread boom-box simulated music across the isthmus.
Choosing the 85mm lens was wise. I can set a large aperture and put most of the background clutter out of focus. Experience with the camera has taught me to dial in some negative exposure compensation when shooting the shadow side, to avoid losing highlights in the background. Film responds gracefully to such highlight areas, but digital gets ugly when clipped. The 5D MkIV has lower noise in the shadows so I can boost that in the editing and get a better image.
"That's all for me, Larry. Thanks for the help." Even if I didn't need to make a restroom run, knowing I could if needed did help.
"You're welcome. Thanks for telling me you were doing this."
And with that, I turn my back on the beach and head for home. With the tide high walking the beach would be slow, so I head inland to the alleyway east of the Boardwalk and walk north. Slowly, steadily. Sand sculpture conditioning. I'm in better shape than I'd been after 17F-1.
The interior lightness of 07F-10 escaped me on this one. I muse on that as I walk. It was 1996 when I started trying to shape the interior of a sculpture as much as the outside and learned, after several months, that this is harder than it looks. I have to think about what's not going to be there as much as what will be left in place, and plan the latter around the former. It requires a subtle concentration that's easily broken, and a feeling in the hands that goes beyond the mental images. There's a reason, I realize, why 07F-10 arrived 11 years after the first thought, and at the end of a series of sculptures done in quick sequence. The fingers forget. Oh, the basics remain but the feeling for subtle shapes becomes stiff. Runners stretch. I need more stretching exercises. This piece was a start.
Later on, I have another thought about 07F-10: it was made with the Short Form. Smaller, less sand to haul, less time spent packing, less work. Right now it's as much work as I can manage to get the cart up the last hill to my street.
After some food and a shower, I take a look at the images. The next day I edit them for the blog, and realize these are the best sand sculpture images I've ever had. The larger sensor in the camera makes for lovely smooth gradients, which is what I noticed in going from 35mm film to medium format.
The rest of the day fades into fog. I put my weary self to bed.
Official Builder Photo by Larry Dudock
2017 June 29, 30; July 1