The Cves13 mechanical Vessel Sculpture

Hello Everyone. It feels like forever since I have posted something new. That is partly because I have been busy splitting my time working on the new studio (The Center for Fine Art Machining is nearly complete!), going on secret artist retreats (I spent a week at Haystack Mountain School of Craft), and planning several new works (there is more than this one coming soon). All while tending to the everyday of my sculpture practice. But with a lot of heavy lifting behind me, I am once again ready (finally!) to launch a new work out into the world.

I am calling this one the “Cves13”. This name may not mean much to a viewer, but it means several things to me (some of them you can probably guess at). But no, I do not intend to share because being cagey with my titles has always been more fun. And as you will see, this post in particular asks far more questions than it answers.

On first impression, this piece most easily fits into my vessel series of works, as it is designed to be a (not so functional, but fascinating nonetheless) sort of bottle. But that is just a starting point, because there are some alternative lineages within my body of work that I can point to that make this piece all the more intriguing as a mashup of some of my favorite concepts. I will highlight just a few. 

For starters, this piece also fits neatly within my last two releases. Those projects were sort of Ray shaped pieces with a more overt creature-like aesthetic. This zoomorphic thread is a very intentional departure for me. I am interested in how people relate to objects of this nature, but less so in creating specific fictions about my objects. So it is a facet of my work that I continue to undertake with great care. 

But yes, I would definitely put this work in a camp with the Rays as well. 

Lastly, this work is a piece which embodies my love for complex (if unnecessary) turning set ups. It uses dovetail joinery as an excuse to employ some really fun turning techniques on a lathe. Most practical machinist would prefer to use less risky tools or processes to avoid the kind of work I do to create this piece, but where is the adventure in that? 

I need to come up with a better name for this type of work, but for now lets call it the "extreme eccentric" turning family of processes.

I think the first reaction most will have with this sculpture is a desire to point out what it (does or does not) look like. So let's get the Rorschach test out of the way. All I am willing to say is that if anything, I was going for a sort of a crabby vibe with this work. But since I don’t like to lean too hard into literal interpretation, I am very non committal about that.  If it looks like something different to you, then I think you are also correct. 

Amusingly, there were plenty of people who felt my last project looked more like a Horseshoe crab than a Ray. So does this actually make this a second crab? Is this actually a crab series? If there is a similar faction of people that forms who feel this work resembles a different creature, I am for it. Please let me know what you feel I've created. 

 

Regardless, the point of this project isn’t to make a functional bottle, a crab, or anything else—but instead to find an interesting point in space between several concepts at once. I am beginning to imagine my works are like Venn diagrams of my many interests. This metaphor helps me better explain how utility and aesthetic considerations can orbit one another without colliding. Shaping each other without giving more weight to one or the other.

That is to say this piece is ever so slightly functional, but it need not be. This piece is aesthetic, but in a way that tries to speak the same language as its modest utility. If this makes sense, congratulations. If it doesn't, I wouldn't lose too much sleep over it. I am having a good time either way.

To circle back to its status as a vessel. The thing that makes this feel like a bottle (albeit a machined one) is mostly attributable to it having a narrow neck. For a bottle, it is incredibly stout—but technically, with a little tweaking and gasket work, this piece could be used to store a liquid of some kind. I am not sure that you would ever want to, but true functionality is never the point. 

Another thing that reinforces this as a bottle for me is that the lower vessel is suspended from the upper portion. When installed on the lid, it does not touch the table. Like a lab flask or beaker maybe? Are those technically bottles too? In my mind they are.

Which begs another question. If the lower section of this work is the bottle, then logic follows that the upper portion of the work is somehow the cap? or lid? If so, that makes it an incredibly over-wrought and oversized bottle cap. Does one get a cap-y vibe from the crab shape? If I squint real hard, I do. 

Either way, I can live with the cap designation because the goal in machining craft forms from other industrial traditions, is in seeing how the physical properties of my medium transform them in interesting ways. One can explore wildly different proportions when moving from glass to metal.

Also conceptually, the extreme inversion of scale between the relatively modest bottle portion of the work, and the huge lid is mildly subversive to me. It humorously challenges what one can get away with and still call a thing a vessel. At what point does something stop being a vessel, and start being just a sculpture with a vessel attached to it? Maybe one day soon, we will find out. 

On the mechanic for securing the bottle to the lid. I am not entirely sure if there is a proper name for this kind of keeper, but as you can see above, once the bottle rim slides into the split ring enclosure, the top portion rotates to entrap it, creating a close circle. 

Although it is a relatively simple mechanism with just one moving part, it was a devilishly difficult one to integrate in a way that didn't feel bulky and detract from the aesthetic. Figuring that out was incredibly rewarding. 

Another mechanically interesting feature is how the legs attach to the lid. It is a sort of dovetail system where the legs are forced into a wedge by a dowel and screw that pierce the length of the lid profile. It looks simple now that it is complete, but finding the form, while leaving room to thread a screw straight through the lid, took a lot of fiddling (the good kind of fiddling). Another rewarding problem solved. 

One production note: I really didn't anticipate how long it would take to machine the large stainless steel element for the lid. It was by far the biggest time sink of the project. It has geometry and features that do not live at complimentary angles to each other, and so required many individual setups to get a proper attack on each feature. I think I spent three weeks fixture-ing and puzzling out nearly a dozen machine operations to make this one part.

That probably sounds like complaining, but it is more interesting to think about in the context of aesthetic considerations causing havoc down the production line. I have some ideas on how to minimize this going forward, but I wanted to share my tribulations as it represents more fun problems yet to be solved. 

Producing the six legs of this vessel was an excuse to do what I described earlier as "extreme eccentric" turning.  Some may see this as an unnecessary stunt, but to me it feels like a way to ensure I am constantly pushing the boundaries of what can be achieved on each of my tools. 

Although I try to take this approach of finding unique capabilities with each of my machines, I take a special pride in cramming the weirdest setups I can think of onto one of my many lathes. If you look at the history of decorative wood turning, you will see this is a common practice among ornamental turners as well. So I count myself in good creative company there. 

Finally to wrap this up, I have one last (longish) tangent. I spent a lot of time 3D printing test models before attempting to machine this prototype. I don't often do this because I prefer to launch myself right into the fray. But in this case it felt necessary to make sure everything was fitting and playing nice.

Throughout this process, I was constantly reminded of when 3D printing first came onto the stage, people often asked me if I was worried that it would make my talents as a sculptor, or elements of my craft, obsolete? To be honest, I was never very worried and I would say as much at the time. But the longer I use 3D printers, the more secure I continue to feel in what I do. I think this image perfectly illustrates why. 

3D printing remains incredibly useful as a prototyping and fixture making tool, but the aesthetics and mechanical functionality of its output continue to leave much to be desired. I mean, which of these would you rather have? I know theres high end 3D printing equipment out there hitting some very interesting benchmarks—but process and material each leave a unique mark on a work of art, it's not just a simple matter of creating a sterile shape in digital space. My 3D printer is great for what it does, but I still have not found a way to make anything that feels like my art with it. 

On a similar note, lately people have been asking me how I feel AI will affect my work? I just have to continue to shrug, because it has yet to enter into my equation. I can see how it might one day, but I suspect it will be just like 3D printing with a niche use. It will be a useful approximation (facsimile?) that leaves something to be desired. There is no question it will be disruptive, it already has been for commercial illustrators and image creators who work in the world of "good enough". But even there, I have not seen it move entirely into creative storytelling spaces. Those who have something real inside them to say are still finding a way to say it.   

From where I stand, the things I create represent more than an a outcome driven means to an end. I am not trying to solve a specific problem, make a specific thing, or pander to a trend. I am simply inventing interesting problems to solve—problems that then lead to the discovery of still more interesting problems— all for my personal enrichment and enjoyment. The things I make are unique artifacts of a mind in motion experiencing the act of learning. They represent my unique way of seeing, thinking and feeling the world around me. Last time I checked, AI is still just really fancy pattern recognition, and re-combination—It doesn't feel, see, or understand anything. It requires an army of humans (curated and labeled data) to tell it what it is being shown. Philosophically speaking, even if AI could do my job or help me speed up my process in some way, why would I outsource the thing that brings me joy? Why give my hard earned dopamine away to a bot that would feel and appreciate none of it? 

The overall sense that I get from people who currently use AI is that it automates some things—sadly I am learning, much of the fun part (the discovery, the research, the idea iteration). What it leaves behind is much of the drudgery (the menial labor of polish and format). That simply has no appeal for me at this moment. If AI ever finds its way into my practice, it will be because it can do something that elevates my unique abilities without averaging them out—but as of this writing, it cannot do that. 

End of digression.

The size of this work is roughly 6" wide, by 4" deep, and a bit over 2" tall. As always, comments and questions are welcome. 

Note for collectors: For the collectors out there, there will be a somewhat limited opportunity to add one of these to your collections.

Unlike my other editions, this work is quite complex, expensive, and time consuming to build. So while I am planning to make a small batch of these, I am going to limit the number of pieces to only ten works.

There are a number of decorative opportunities here I want to explore. I think the bottle lends itself to experimentation with decorative hardwoods provided I can find (or make) some interesting specimens. Because of this, I am going to give myself a little more time than usual to make these. I will probably take the rest of the year to slowly and carefully execute each of these ten works.

If this is something you might be interested in collecting or collaborating on, I will be sending out a second email/post in two days (Thursday July 3rd 11AM EST) with a simple sign up to register your interest. Given the limited numbers, I suspect there to be a good chance interest may exceed supply, so let's just say that the first five spots on the list will be allocated on a first come first serve basis. The remaining spots will be sorted out with some sort of lottery.

I will include a lot more details at that time (including pricing). However, if you do have a burning question, you can drop me an email in the meantime. 

Thank you all for your time and attention.