Bruce Newell: Abstraction of Dignity
Remember the analogy of the family who has a problem so big, it's like an elephant standing in the middle of their living room? Only no one is willing to acknowledge the problem, so instead, they simply ignore the monumental issue, carving their life around the animal as if he weren't there.
Sculptor Bruce Newell has created such an animal in his life, only for him, the creature is a heroic horse, standing like a Trojan warrior in the middle of his home. In his case, it's definitely not a problem.
While touring the many facets of this noble horse, who endures inspection with the dignity of a palace guard, one begins to imagine that within the very essence of this particular sculpture lies the purpose of the artist.
"Well, that realty is the whole thing," said the Peninsula native who grew up spending his winters in Carmel, and his summers on the rocky coastal plains of his father's Big Sur ranch. "We really did branding and herding - all the things ranchers do. We built stone walls, did a lot with our hands. All the while, I was growing into a sculptor and my focus was animals."
Upon graduation from Cannel High, Newell joined the Army to become a Russian linguist, - a plan he attributes to the misguided visions of youth - but was sent to Korea, instead.
"I had a wonderful time," he said. "Korea is a beautiful country. Eventually, it was time to go back to what I should be doing. I was meant to be an artist."
In 1962, Newell enrolled in the San Francisco Art Institute, where he embarked on a diverse curriculum of multi-media instruction. "Wisely so," he said, "to figure out what I wanted to do. It was an exciting time in San Francisco, a big period for abstract impressionism. We felt the intensity at the institute. It was at a real high point in terms of their dedication to students and abstract thinking in art."
Newell's proclivity led him toward sculpture, in which he invested the next 10 years, focused on abstract art. "Eventually, though, I began to lose my involvement, my intent toward abstraction. Then I got the light-hearted idea of sculpting a cow, became caught up in the simplicity of forming the surface elements of an idiosyncratic cow." He paused. "There's actually quite an abstract element in that."
As he ventured further into the animal kingdom, Newell began to appreciate the method and the metaphor of these creatures in life and in art. "I am drawn toward animals poised like the horse or the cow because of their dignity, their nobility, their acceptance of life," he said. "It's probably what we call chivalry in our lives, that wonderful stance of calmness, knowingness, and values. Then, I bring into this tile emotion, my feelings about the animals I grew up with."
When the idea to create something practical surfaced within the artist, he was not shaken, but rose to the challenge by melding the functional with the aesthetic. He sculptt:d bronze tables with dean, open lines, then added a series of animal "figures to graze the surface.
"With my horses and cows, I wanted to convey that sense of quiet in the pasture," he said. Some people confuse my work with what they call western art. But it really establishes its own genre. In my second series, "Forest Floor," I brought in a lot of pack rats, squirrels and mice, aIl of which were a part of my life growing up.”
Though the tables were enormously successful, Newell gave them up in favor of life-size and larger animals. "I am not one to do one thing too much," he said. "My mind wants to keep the project alive, keep it interesting. I believe in exploiting my ideas getting as much out of them as I can, but I won't stay with a design just because it's successful."
Newell recognizes the insecurity that plagues many artists, keeps them from pressing on into new territory. At the same time, the seasoned sculptor understands that no one can tell an artist if be is doing something good. He, alone, must first decide this, must know, inherently, that his work is good.
"I have to constantly look for ways to challenge my creative abilities or risk losing the excitement of being an artist," he said. "A lot of it lies in the exploration of what I can do in a variety of areas. Otherwise, I'm just putting out art."
Eight years ago, Newel! was forced into new territory when tendonitis set in, preventing him from hammering his monumental steel animals. "When I switched to plaster," he said, "ail kinds of skills opened up. Steel is a less forgiving medium with a much flatter surface - not that the abstract impressionists ever let steel limit them - they worked it and worked it, and did some amazing things. Still, in any medium, you simply search for what works."
In working with plaster, Newell particularly likes the rough texture and the layering of material. He appreciates the effects of leaving working areas exposed, hatchet marks in place, letting the scrapes and gouges suggest form.
"It doesn't bother me that it doesn't follow a prescribed format," he said, "or that 'it doesn't have legs or the entire body. I imagine that's confounding to some, but it works for me. The piece is more challenging if it has its own rules. That's when it gets into abstraction, when you say more about the image by what you've left out."
Newell's current exploration involves working the figure into his animal sculptures. In bringing the two together, he seeks that special dynamic inherent in the delicate balance of grace between human and horse as he strives to meld the dignity of each.
"The figure has been done so many times," he said; "I have to find an approach that is meaningful and fresh. I just have to work through it. Sort it out.
Newell says he appreciates the dignity and nobility of the animals he sculpts. "It's probably what we call chivalry in our Iives, that wonderful stance of calmness, knowingness, and values. Then, I bring into this the emotion, my feelings about the animals I grew up with."
Without fear of rejection or failure. I know what I want emotionally, but visually, I have yet to arrive at it. There are so many ways to look at it, It's simply a process of finding forms that work together.
He picked up the maquette of a horse and juxtaposed it against another, beneath a life-size abstract of a horse head. "It could turn out as corny as hell, or it could become something really wonderful," he said. "But therein lies the heritage of abstract impressionism: one of exploration and learning as we go along."
Bruce Newell's sculpture can be experienced at the Wiford Gallery in Santa Fe NM as well as galleries in San Francisco, and Ketchum, Idaho. His heroic animals can be found in board rooms and living rooms, pastures and gardens virtually anywhere.
by Lisa Crawford Watson
Lisa Crawford Watson is a free-lance writer who lives in Carmel Valley.
 Updated March 18, 2008 |
