On one of my visits to Pietrasanta,Italy,,I was looking at verious sculpture techniques ,,and passing thru the Piatza del Duomo,I came upon a large public sculpture installation,,it had a large inverted bell,shape,large enough for me to slip my head and sholders inside,and blow my harpoon softly to hear what it sounds like,,,
thats when he caught me,,"hey you, I got a very blue guitar behind the bar at Michaelangelos bar",,,,,one of the things you discover about Pietrasanta is that everyone in the town is,,married to,sleeping with,selling to, buying from,working for,or related to some artist of one kind or another,,,
my new friend was a "sprue architect" or some one who designs where the bronze goes in the lost wax process,most efficiently,an art form within an art form,,he said meet me two doors down from "Da Ski resturant" in an hour and I 'll show you the scene,,,
I watched as he ran off ,,following some kid on a bike,who peddled up just then,,,I drank some more cappichino and sketched the square from the steps of the Duomo,,,and in about an hour I sauntered off toward the Da Ski,,,and 50 metersbefore I got there,my friend came around the corner with a bag of the obligatory wine and cheese,,and some bars of red wax.
this was in the days before my association with the Antognazzi studio and so I was trying to familerize meself with the local "Art scene", this man was also the model for the sculpture in progress,
so when we walked in he introduced me to the sculptress,and began taking off his clothes,,she was undressed as well ,except for a long apron to protect her from the hot wax,,,she,,,standing on a box was fashioning a somewhat "heroic" form of the model with a bulls head,,all in a dark redish purple wax,,the room was narrow and tight and hot ,,good for modeling wax,I was invited to disrobe as well,and,indeedI lost a layer, it felt good to feel normal agin,,,
the sculptress exclaimed with faux surprize,"I can tell by your underwear your an artist",,,hurrumph,sez I and broke into a few verses of "O Solo Mio" to show my performance arrogance,,,I've always found it amazing that sculptors,(spaceial folk,those who carve,) are somehow always involved with music ,,,and these two were no different,manageing to find a harmony on the last few verses,,,,,,,,!
my new friend told me, he had some chunks of colored marmol,for sale ,and that was on my "to do"list,,so after he'd been up on his small stage for a spell holding on to the pose markers,,we all took a break and went out back for a smoke,,
"Ah but that the hearts reach should exceed its grasp, or whats an EGO for?",,,,,,,,or,,,,,,,,
" the heart fascinates itself,,,,,and in doing so,gives meaning to habit !"
and all the philosophy bullshit in the world ,will not be able to remove the unnecessary marble ,to reveal
a lovely carving,,,,,!,,so three,mostly, necked adults,two standing and smoking,one a ciggaret,one a pipe,
and the other measureing and sketching 100 kilo colored marble chunks,in a note book does not even raise an eyebrow in Pietrasanta,,,
and they were lovely pieces of marmol,creamy reds to dark tuscan redish purple,,,,,and the other was a sky blue/white to a jade/dark green,the latter became a frog in Philly,,and the former became a horneytoad in Texas,,all before I could get my hands on them,,,,I've seen,(and touched each,after the act )
and felt a little rush ,having known the stones before their hew,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
there is one piece left,back in the corner,covered by much brush,,,and it is still there today,,,, I kept in touch,,, ,about 200 kelos,mostly black,ranging from brownish black to bluish,purple black,,,in the midst of this dark swerrling mass ,is a 4 inch wide lightning shaped streak going diagional thru an thru,of creamy tangerine red,going to a brilliant blood red carmine,
obviously I still dream of it,,on my to do list,but not on my speed dial,,,(joke, clearly, I'm not a celman,)
we went back into the tight hot little studio,and neckid "Tarus Man" assumed his place on the stage holding onto the marker posts,,I could see the red wax figuar was a cartoon of him ,but the bulls head smacked of her own invention,,"we can talk while she melts,and nudges,,,step onto the stage beside me and you can see the cross-section drawing on the wall behind me shows all the places sprues will be needed to complete the pour,,," I bent over to examine what looked like an architectural drawing of the sculpture,,,,,
I heard a door open behind me,,and shortly,mr. bullman copped a woodie (slight erection) and a laughing sculptress said "no way John,I don't have enough wax for that,and besides it'll take another sprue.",,,,,,because his GIRLfriend had walked in,,
much giggling all around ,and a wine and cheese break was up,,next,and shortly the hash came out,,and when the two girls left,,, laughing off to the shower,,,,,I did sieze the moment,though he begged me to stay,,I said, "I have miles to go,and many laughs before I weep,but I'll be on the piatza bout dark-thirty,an we can blowsome stoney blues,,,,,,,maybe we can make enough for a bottle of good red,,,,buona sera!"
"the heart fascinates itself ,and in doing so,gives meaning to habit,,this inturn begets EGO,,Alora"
here we are.
E . J . F L A T O t w e n t y f o u r t e e n