The ComputerSculpture Blogspace

Intersculpt 2007

I was a part of this one, coming to France to participate in this exhibition and conference, part of a series of similar events that has been going on for several biennial cycles now. There were a wide range of presentations and works spread out over the week and two venues, and I missed the first day, but the parts I saw were pretty interesting. The exhibition consisted of a number of vitrines containing small RP pieces, plus some larger pieces on plinths, and a nearly lifesized foam sculpture by Dan Collins’ “Twister” (a full-body scan of the artist twisted in a software program) that had been carved in France, using a robotic arm mounted with a rotary spindle, from a digital file sent from the USA. Many of the pieces in the cases, including mine, had been transmitted this way, by ftp file transfer, and were then built for the show in France by 3-D printers. This is great from an artist’s point of view, eliminating hassles with art shipment companies and customs that take a lot of the fun out of showing sculpture abroad. A couple of RP (Rapid Prototyping) machines were there, cranking out parts while we watched: a Z-corp machine that uses an incrementing powder-bed printed in layers with glue by an ink-jet process, and a Stratasys FDM (Fused Deposition Modeling) machine that’s more like a computerized hot glue gun, tracing contours with layers of two types of material, one for the model and another for the support structure that holds disparate pieces together during the building process. There was also someone with an Inspeck scanner, an instantaneous white-light device that’s specialized for the capture of human heads (an ancient tradition revived!) I let them do it to me; the results were frighteningly realistic—I’m thinking of using it for a Halloween mask…

The conference in Nancy, focusing on the biomorphic aspect of things, included some scholarly lectures (mostly in French) on such topics as Classical chimerae, used as decorative elements in Greek and Roman art, embryology and mythological monsters, advances in medical imaging, and theories of growth and form. There were also videophone presentations done from remote locations, featuring Derrick Woodham’s virtual sculpture park (with a section devoted to this exhibition; a high-bandwidth connection is recommended) where one could mouse around a simulated landscape and see various sculptures from different angles, like one does in the real world.

Another notable telepresence was that of Glenn Davidson from Artstation in Wales, U.K., who showed how large groups of volunteers could put together huge inflatable forms by plotting their edges on large rolls of paper laid out on the floor, using a self-propelled computer-controlled device they’d cobbled together (it resembled a lawnmower, actually, but worked admirably well). Once the machine had marked the paper, the shapes were cut out by hand and assembled with tape, then inflated to become very large and somewhat complex sculptural forms.

At the heart of the conference were the live presentations by individual artists. Christian Lavigne, the founder and organizer of the event, had a lot of new work to show, using various techniques including water-jet cutting, 5-axis milling, and color printing in 3-D, which was a more impressive demonstration of this than I’d seen before. Using some new technology from Axiatec, a French company that has developed advanced methodology for using the Z-corp RP machine; he built a skull covered with images from his life and work, all of which was built and printed simultaneously. While I’d seen results from Z-corp’s color 3-D printing process before, I didn’t realize that photographic imagery was possible, nor that it could look so good. They also seem to have worked out a way to ameliorate the rough grainy surface that had been the disappointing element in Z-corp’s otherwise promising powder-bed process; the pieces Christian and Mary Visser (more about her work later) produced for this show had smooth and subtly colored surfaces, quite ready for display as finished works of art. Apparently, a VRML file provides sufficient data to drive the color 3-D printing process; I’m not sure if other formats can be used as well. I’m negotiating with Axiatec to distribute their technology in the USA; it makes a lot of things possible with RP that people have been wanting to do, but were unable to accomplish until now.

Patrick Vissenden from Montreal shared with us a fictitious phylum, creatures of an alternate reality he came up with by “Imagining Science”; building from the roots of science fiction. Having modeled a set of organic entities in wax, inspired by the fossils of the Burgess Shale and memories of Natural History displays; he scanned them in 3-D, and stars them in a series of action photos from an apocryphal microbial battlefield.

Jack Vanarsky, an Argentinian translated to France, showed us a movie composed by slicing and recombining the human face and figure; constantly reassorting its parts in a stately dance. He also produced a kinetic sculpture that reproduced the same effect; a sliced visage perturbed by a recurring motorized wavelike motion, like the shuffling of cards in the hands of an expert gambler.

Marcus Williams and his partner Sue Jowsey, both from New Zealand, looked inward to build their project, announcing it with a Maori chant and invocation. Dedicated to an intimate body-centered approach to art, they had scanned and photographed close-up details of their bodies: stubbly chin textures, hairy patches, and smooth downy expanses of flesh, mapping them to a loop of shifting organic shapes, a sculptural animation which was matched to an eerie vocal soundtrack created by modifying the recordings of Edith Piaf, the celebrated French chanteuse, to resemble an opera that may have been broadcast from Mars.

Ken Eward from Michigan based his series of works on Suiseki, the Chinese tradition of the “Scholar’s Object”, where specially selected natural objects, particularly rocks, would be mounted on polished wood bases to be contemplated like works of art. But Ken, trained as a scientist, looked to the realm of the electron microscope for his subjects, tapping particularly the aesthetic possibilities to be found in libraries of molecular models. The results may resemble bird’s nests, vertebrae or jellyfish, but they tap into a source of natural beauty unknown to most of us, and afford Ken a deep reservoir of forms that he can draw on for unexpected effects.

Mary Hale-Visser came from Texas, where she teaches art at Southwestern University, to show us the latest developments in her work, which mostly concerns the female figure, considered as a sculptural element. She deals with harlequin jugglers and dancers holding each other up, or women seemingly caught in the wheels of machinery, enmeshed in arrangements not of their making but enjoyed none the less. A particularly striking piece referenced rebirth, through a series of boxes that connect old and new bodies or thoughtforms, darkly toned in a tour-de-force use of integral RP coloration, thanks to Axiatec’s leveraging of the Z-corp process. For her, computer technology has enabled the production of ideas that would necessarily have remained dreams if this direct route from the subconscious had not been available. See some examples in various media. Along with Robert Michael Smith, Mary also organized a highly influential 2003 show on RP and sculpture that toured several U.S. venues; RMS gave a tele-lecture the first day, which I missed, but some of his work is available on the Web.

My presentation was about the evolution of my “Juxtamorphic” artwork from a manual process of making 3-D collages using molds of natural objects to a more high-tech method of accomplishing the same thing; assembling 3-D digital scans in a computer and outputting them at different scales in various materials with computer-controlled carving machines. I’ll come up with a combined audio and visual version soon, but for now, please download a Quicktime version (139 megs), or an Acrobat PDF version (65 megs) of the slides. I’ve also got the text available in English and French.

Some other artists of note represented in the exhibition, whose presentations I also didn’t catch, were Stewart Dickson and Paul Higham, both pioneers in the field. Paul has worked out methods for extracting sculptural information from vast fields of numbers; his “Datasculptures” draw on sources like the Dow Jones Average, oil-field seismic studies and MRI data to produce solid objects resembling cityscapes, rocks, and spiderwebs; his self-generating sculptures are, theoretically at least, independent of the sculptor’s hand, needing only “intelligent design” to set them in motion. See virtualsculpture.org for more about him.

Stewart Dickson also got started early at this; his interest in the “concretization” of pure mathematics and his work for the film industry coming together in the early nineties to produce solid representations of classical mathematical figures like Fermat’s, Scherk’s and Enneper’s minimal surfaces cast in bronze. In this show I was struck by his snake-like “trefoil torus knot” built with integral color texture mapping. His site has more examples of his wide-ranging output in a number of media. (I’d really like to see the 3-D zoetrope in action…)

On returning from Nancy (a beautiful little city, by the way, with many examples of Art Nouveau architecture, several fine museums and a gorgeous 18th-century plaza) I stopped in at the Parisian part of the Intersculpt show, which dealt more with the mathematical than the biological foundations of sculpture. I was already familiar with the work of some other artists with work there, like Bathsheba Grossman, Jonathan Chertok, Rinus Rollofs, Keith Brown, and Brent Collins (in collaboration with Carlo Sequin).

Bathsheba was showing some of her signature radially symmetrical topographies, built with RP machines.

Jonathan had some mysterious forms on display that suggested the negative spaces left when forms are subtracted.

Rinus was displaying small versions of works he’s realized on a much larger scale, either crystalline arrangements of Platonic solids or variations on interpenetrating toroids.

Keith had some complex organic pieces built in his seductive new style, featuring interpenetrating ovoids and softly undulating saddle shapes.

Brent and Carlo were working out the further mathematical implications of the sculpture Brent arrived at intuitively while carving in wood, which Carlo helped him to take to the next level.

Several of the sculptors represented in the show were there; I was fortunate in being able to speak with Alexandre Vitkine, who at 97–years–old qualifies as the Grand Old Man of the movement. He explained a little of his theories about simplicity, and how complex it can get when one adds a little perturbation to the formula for a simple shape. His carvings bore out his words: mostly done on a small CNC milling machine in wood, they exhibit elegance and a subtle sort of beauty I never got from Minimalist sculpture.

Some artists there were working out mathematical concepts in 3-D without using machines to do it. Phillipe Charbonneau, for instance, put together curvelinear concentric revolving forms from linear elements (evidently the working out of mathematical formulae my French wasn’t good enough to fully understand). Phillipe Rips used very basic means—tubing and cable—to construct tensegrity structures that were quite stable when erected, but could easily collapse into a small bundle. Since his English was good, I was able to get from him a first-hand account of an artist’s life in France today (not as great as I’d thought) and much insight into other topics of interest, long into the night, at a sidewalk cafe, over numerous glasses of wine…

Andrew Werby

Masterpieces of French Jewelry from American Collections

This show, at San Francisco’s Palace of the Legion of Honor Museum, traces the trajectory of jewelry-making in France from the Art Nouveau era to present times. Perhaps it’s unfair to try to analyze a country’s production from what a disparate bunch of foreigners happen to bring home with them, but either American taste went into eclipse during that period, or the exhibit charts the decline and fall of a great art tradition.

The show is arranged chronologically, and starts out well with some outstanding examples of Rene Lalique’s work in enamelled gold, with other materials such as horn, ivory, opal and pearls tastefully integrated. Some large bronze sculptures, in the shape of insectile women, originally used as case decorations for his breakthrough 1900 exhibit in Paris’ Exposition Universelle, show his versatility. (Although he became famous as a jeweler, he eventually gave it up and went on to even greater success in glass, although these works, in my opinion anyway, never rose to the artistic heights achieved in his jewelry.) His genius was recognized early, with a first prize given to his multi-part Iris Bracelet in enamelled gold with opal background in 1897; and the piece, included at this exhibit, still seems fresh and novel today. Among his other works shown, a figurative umbrella handle in horn and gold and a purse featuring mirrored vipers in silver and embroidered leather stand out for their strength and adventurous spirit. Other jewelry houses of the Art Nouveau period are represented as well, notably Fouquet and Boucheron. Working with similar techniques, materials and subject matter, they never rise to the same heights as Lalique, but nevertheless manage some fine pieces, like Fouquet’s Winged Chimera brooch, notable for its flowerlike settings of what appear to be American natural pearls (subject of a “pearl rush” at the turn of the century) and Boucheron’s Acacia brooch, with its finely-rendered blossoms in plique-a-jour enamel, or a Butterfly brooch, where the wings of the insect are fashioned from tabular plaques of engraved diamond. Perhaps to remind us that no movement, of itself, can be guaranteed to produce nothing but masterpieces, the show includes some undistinguished works in the Art Nouveau style, mostly “maker unknown”, generally featuring the images of young women, juxtaposed with stylistically rendered verdure, that have come to exemplify the movement in the minds of many.

Moving on to the Edwardian era, the exhibit shows how quickly the world of fashion takes up and then discards an artistic style. While enamelling is still practiced, it mostly is used to cover guilloche work (also called engine turning, used to engrave gold with mechanically accurate repetitive cuts). The nicest example shown is a tiny pencil-holder by the Husson workshop. Diamonds are a lot more prominent than before, largely due to the exploitation of the vast South African deposits found early in the century, which fueled the ultimate development of the “Garland” style, based on stylized ribbons, bows, and floral wreaths. Platinum was also introduced to the jewelry industry at about this time, and this seems to have contributed to the development of ornaments that used a minimum of metal (platinum, while it doesn’t tarnish, is quite a bit heavier than gold, let alone silver) while maximizing the use of stones, principally diamonds. The best example of the style shown here is Cartier’s Bow brooch, which relieves the monotony with panels of carved quartz crystal; an example unfortunately unheeded by subsequent designers featured here, who seem to have conceived their task principally as providing a vehicle for diamond sales.

The Art Deco movement brought some fresh air into the world of French jewelry, with its emphasis on bold geometric designs. However, I suspect it was less popular with visiting Americans than at home, since most of the examples on view here are weak and somewhat atypical. A standout piece is a vanity case by LaCloche Freres, with an arrangement of roses in carved red coral, set off by lapis leaves. A jazz band charm bracelet, maker unknown, is a truly charming piece—a row of tiny geometrically simplified musicians and their conductor are composed by arranging odd-shaped stones with a minimum of metalwork, but it has the appearance of a novelty item designed for impulse purchase, not a serious artistic effort. The best example of Deco aesthetics on view is a Panther Brooch in platinum, diamonds and black onyx (for the spots) created by Cartier for the American boxer Gene Tunney, as a present for his wife. Unfortunately, most of the more serious work has a clunky feel to it, of being constructed to make an aesthetic point rather than to be easily worn, or to complement the wearer. Perhaps this is why many of the examples from this prewar period eschew Art Deco entirely or in part and draw from historical styles, using Chinese, Egyptian, Medieval, Greek, and Mughal forms and motifs. I was struck, however, by the wide range of objects that were considered fair game for a jeweler of this period. Not just rings, brooches, earrings, necklaces and bracelets—they decorated opera glasses, produced dress clips, vanity and cigarrette cases, cages for animals, purses, clocks, watches, fans and perfume bottles—it seems that a jeweler’s field of work has narrowed considerably since then.

The Postwar period seems to have marked a low point in French jewelry design, at least from an artistic perspective. Perhaps the atmosphere of scarcity or the recent trauma caused designers and their customers to retrench, but the results as seen here are lamentable. Designs were either derivative of historical patterns or suffused with the blandness that still characterizes the 1950s in our minds. In searching for more inexpensive products, colored stones were used more, but usually in standardized cuts and unimaginative designs. Perhaps copying the taste of the (American) Duchess of Windsor, a vogue was created for cute jewel-encrusted animals, but these did little to alleviate the prevailing artistic emptyness of the period. A new burst of diamonds and advertising from DeBeers, reflecting their monopoly in the world market, revived the Garland style in a simplified form, and jewelers evolved the pave technique to cover everything they made with the small round brilliant-cut diamonds that were becoming ubiquitous at the time.

The main innovation of the current era, according to this show, seems to have been the introduction of the “miracle” or invisible-setting technique. This allows stones, particularly rectangular ones, to be set edge-to-edge, without any metal showing in between. Several examples are on view, but none of them are very interesting from an creative standpoint. Yes, concentrated areas of gem color could now be created, but no—this would not be used to any great advantage, at least not here. Although technical tours de force abound, like the invisible-set ruby. sapphire, and diamond Flower Brooch created for the USA 1976 Bicentennial by Van Cleef and Arpels, no new ground was broken in artistic terms by the mainstream jewelry houses featured in this exhibition. The show does present some self-consciously avant-garde pieces designed by prominent modern artists such as Pablo Picasso, Jean Arp, Man Ray, and Andre Derain, but while striking, ultimately these are unconvincing, consisting mostly of large slabs of high-karat gold in the artist’s trademark shapes. One is left with the impression of artists otherwise committed who are willing to experiment with the jewelry medium, but only on their own terms, unwilling to adapt the mindset of a jeweler along with his materials. French artist Arman is an exception; his bracelet composed from musical instruments in gold succesfully translates an essentially sculptural idiom into a workable piece of jewelry.

Striving, evidently, to end this show on a high note, the organizers rely on a single transplanted American: Joel Arthur Rosenthal (known as JAR) to convey the impression that French creativity in jewelry is not altogether dead. And in part, they succeed; his most interesting piece, a jewel-bridled circus zebra carved in variegated agate and surmounted by an elegant diamond-studded plume, recalls the heights of the Art Nouveau period, while his Blue Butterfly brooch refers back to the Deco period. The piece that hints the strongest of the artist’s own proclivities is a Daliesque Sea Urchin Clock, with its granulated gold setting for a sand-backed watch movement placed precisely in a natural urchin shell. But one is left wondering, what is being left out? Surely there are French jewelry makers commanding an original contemporary vision as well as the exacting traditional techniques preserved in Europe that enable them to express it; why aren’t they represented here? Is it that they’ve been unable to reach American customers, or that these collectors are not the high-profile types solicited by the organizers of this exhibition? For the answer, we must wait on some future sequel to this show that is more inclusive in its scope.

The Masterpieces of French Jewelry show is accompanied by a $29.95 catalog/book of the same name by Judith Price, published by Running Press of Philidelphia and London. While the pictures are nice, some are of pieces I saw in San Francisco, others are not. While many of the pieces I saw are in it, many are left out, their places filled with photos of related objects that may have been featured in a different incarnation of the show, or just shuffled in to fill things out. The rather sparse text doesn’t add much to the captions that accompanied the show, but it is annoyingly filled out as well, with fawning interviews of various peripherally-related celebrity figures like Christopher Forbes and Dina Merrill Hartley (heirs of collectors) novelist Barbara Taylor Bradford, and designer Juan Pablo Molyneux randomly interspersed.

The show runs through the 10th of June at San Francisco’s Palace of the Legion of Honor Museum. The $10 admission fee lets you into the permanent collection, featuring choice works by various European artists and a small collection of antiquities, as well as this special exhibit. While I can’t be equally positive about all the items in this show, it’s well worth the price of admission for the rare chance to see the infrequently-displayed works in the Art Nouveau section. If you can’t make it to San Francisco in time, wait until the Lalique pieces are back home at the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore Maryland to see them there—this is the world’s best Lalique collection outside the Gulbenkian museum in Lisbon.

Andrew Werby