My artistic career
began in the back of my father’s metal shop in Rockport, MA. Every day after school I’d work alongside my dad to earn my allowance. I didn't know during my early apprenticeship that metalworking could be anything but work, but in 1996, I discovered a welder under an old oil covered bench in the shop;
My artistic career
began in the back of my father’s metal shop in Rockport, MA. Every day after school I’d work alongside my dad to earn my allowance. I didn't know during my early apprenticeship that metalworking could be anything but work, but in 1996, I discovered a welder under an old oil covered bench in the shop; a pair of gloves with all the fingers worn through rested on top. I dragged it out and plugged it in. From the moment the first sparks jumped, I was hooked. There was something about harnessing that power that thrilled me.
My first project was a go-kart followed by a mini-bike with a sidecar.
The first non-practical items I made were a couple of small figures for my brother’s children. Then I tried some larger pieces— a unicyclist, a great blue heron, and a few other things. The pull was so strong that I began to stay after work, often welding through the night.
That’s how it started. Today I work in my Essex studio in the woods. It’s an ideal place for creative ideas to flow. I now craft large-scale, one-of-a-kind, iconic sculptures for private collectors, schools, universities, public spaces and corporate headquarters.
Each piece is a hand-made original, built from the ground up. I work closely with my clients to draw out their vision for the sculpture. The idea of the piece is just as important as the execution. I need to know where the piece will reside, what the piece means to them, what they want it to say. Together, we talk about how to get there. I encourage people to take their time. These pieces will be around long after I will, and they need to speak for themselves.
I want the figures I create to look like they’ve just been caught in a moment of stillness. When you turn your head, they will lumber off to the woods or fly away. Once the armature is built, I begin to imagine how the piece will move and breathe. Working in metal, there is always a dynamic tension between the stiffness of the material and my own force. I have a sense of where it should go, and I use my strength and tools to bend it, but the metal fights back. It is that tension captured in the bent and twisted metal that gives each piece a pulse.
In our fast-paced world today, people walk around with eyes glazed over. My work unlocks a free space where they can stop and actually experience where they are. Coming upon these pieces at airports or stadiums or even on suburban lawns people are pulled out of their hurried lives. These sculptures steal time. I love to see young kids grab their parents’ hands and pull them to see the figures I create. They literally are stopped in their tracks by their encounter with a moose, a rhino or a playful greyhound.
What started out as a fascination with welding has become a journey of creativity for me. Along the way, I hope my work will allow others to experience moments of heightened appreciation for life’s wonders and surprises as well.