I went to an art opening by Claude Smith in
Railroad Square in
Santa Rosa,California, a show entitled Wabisabi,
which is a Japanese Zen
phrase referring to the beauty of things
impermanent, imperfect,
and incomplete. The artworks were found
objects,
stained ceiling tiles, tattered awnings, a
large film box
with the corner torn out revealing the
word "signature,"
rusted metal, busted shingles. Claude's
expertise is in
presentation and juxtaposition.
When I lived on the ranch in Ellensburg,
I began collecting
junk I found laying around, and I attached
it to the old
outbuildings until I had them completely
covered with bones,
rope, barbed wire, twisted metal, old farm
implements, broken
furniture, whatever seemed to fit. Fit,
Belle Randall tells
me is an Old English verse form, as in
Lewis Carroll's verse
"The Hunting of the Snark," which is a
poem in 8 fits.
I've always found my found object
sculptures a satisfying
extension to my collages, a shift in scale
and a challenge
in how to engineer objects so that the
least amount of
fasteners, glue, wire, nails are used
to hold the structure
together. These "combines" are assembled
as though there is
an inner fusion of parts, a union of
forces, a merging of
disparate elements, a meshing of objects
in a metaphysic so
loose that no accident is possible. This
is the power of
hoodoo. Have you heard of hoodoo? Hoodoo?
Yes, he do. He
do what? He do whatever he wants. How?
By the power. What
power? The power of hoodoo. He has the
power. Who do?
He does. Does what? Have the power. What
power? The power
of hoodoo. This is a vaudeville routine I was
reminded of after watching the
San Quentin Drama Production of Endgame
by Samuel Beckett
with my 98 year old dad, who amazingly
became quite focused,
actually riveted. The main character,
Hamm, is a blind, old
man who pretty much dominates center stage
in his armchair.
He is attended by his adopted son, Clov,
who is his lackey.
Two other characters, Hamm's aged parents,
Nagg and Nell, are
contained in two barrels and make brief
appearances. The scene: bare
interior, gray light, two small windows, Hamm
in his armchair on castors
covered with an old sheet, and the two ash bins
containing Nagg and Nell.
After a brief tableau, Clove speaks at the
very beginning,
"Finished, it's finished, nearly finished,
it must be nearly
finished. (Pause.) Grain upon grain, one
by one, and one
day, suddenly, there's a heap, a little heap,
the impossible
heap. (Pause.) I can't be punished any
more. (Pause.)
I'll go now to my kitchen, ten feet by ten
feet by ten feet,
and wait for him to whistle me. (Pause.)"
This was so like
the actual reality of my situation, I was amazed
when Dad turned to me and said,
"I don't need to watch this. I'm aware there are
these changes."

(Note: Quote from Endgame by Samuel Beckett, Grove Press, 1970)