On Mobiles…

And yet, I don’t think the book is done on mobiles as a form of sculpture. I hope I have something to say in the matter, even if it is a footnote.

I started making mobiles about 25 years ago. On and off, I would experiment with different mediums, but the idea of incorporating stained glass was always in the back of my head, tugging at that inventive part of my brain that never stops. But stained glass? Kinda scary to imagine I was going to ever succeed in learning how to do it without cutting myself a lot.

I was making mobiles with just bare wire on a regular basis, often on the beach with just my pliers, some steel wool, and a spool of wire. I used a little extending painting rod and roller mount as my pivot point, and designed happily in my chair. When I started making circles at the ends, I felt like I had the form I had been searching for, but it was missing that important distinction. All I could imagine was stained glass, with light filtering through it, moving in the sun.

Stained glass is hard to work with. Even worse, I was told many times that circles were the most difficult shape to cut. I persisted, and broke plenty of glass on the way. But there is so much beauty to be found in the flow of a piece of stained glass, each with its own original swirls and colorings. In love with the mediums, I now have my form and function and purpose to the work.

Georgia O’Keeffe, one of my other influences, once said the following:

“I was alone and singularly free, working into my own, unknown-no one to satisfy but myself. I began with charcoal and paper and decided not to use any color until it was impossible to do what I wanted to do in black and white. I believe it was June before I needed blue.”

I believe it was June before I needed blue. One of the most inspiring quotes I have ever read that I keep in mind throughout my work. This is the definition of where I have decided to limit my medium: Stained glass, circles, wire. Placing limitations on yourself as an artist is actually immensely inspiring. As a musician, sometimes limitations of instruments (I think of drum machines) inspire more because they are limited, so you push their limits. It pushes you to further your creativity, hone your craft, learn every aspect of your “instrument,” and evolve. Stained glass, circles, wire. For me, new visions emerge of possible curves, colors, and movements. I have my color palette now.

I am proud my orbits have evolved. Once they take flight, each one has it’s own way to flow through the space. I hope you enjoy them. Nowadays, I have met more people that have never seen a mobile in their life, and I am humbled by their wonder and amusement and intrigue. I point to Calder.

Calder’s work transfixes and intrigues me further than any other artist. He was eternally playful and outrageous, boldly visionary, and silly. I bow deeply in the utmost respect. His life is a work of art.

However, I am not here as an artist to simply pay homage or imitate... Rather, I feel that this form of sculpture known as a mobile has more to say. Sometimes, I get to occasionally glimpse his experience and feel the giddy, playful pleasure he often did, when I finish a sculpture, as his mobiles finally danced and breathed, playful and alive on their own. Bending wire into curves and delicate balances, I feel timelessness flow through me as I lose myself in creating. That is why I make mobiles.