You might be wondering why I’m spending a lot of energy writing about sculpture. The truth is that in addition to being a failed painter (my first love), I’m also a failed sculpter. I never got under the influence of the European land artists (Long, Goldsworthy, Fulton, Nash). Here is a sculpture I made in college (1991 or so):
I still have a great fondness for this kind of work. In 2004 I had the pleasure to meet and photograph Andy Goldsworthy.
What is beautiful, of couse, is the impermance. I think this has a lot in common with photography. I’m reminded of a quote* by Henri Cartier-Bresson:
Actually, I’m not all that interested in the subject of photography. Once the picture is in the box, I’m not all that interested in what happens next. Hunters, after all, aren’t cooks.
Photography, for me, is about the process. It is about wandering. Looking. Digging. The product is fine. It does its job stopping time. But mostly it is a charming reminder of the hunt.
I’ve pretty much given up the idea of making sculpture. But now and then I still get an itch. A couple of years ago I balanced a stack of farmhouse rubbish and took this picture:
Later I realized it looks like the superior images of Peter Fischli and David Weiss. I guess I should just stick to taking pictures.