Lifesize

“Like sculptor Anna Hyatt Huntington, I love the added luster that aluminum creates and decided to cast an edition of Alexander in it. This is the same Alexander I sculpted in bronze, and I invite you to read about this remarkable bird under the photograph of him in bronze.”

While driving on a wet and murky night, my husband, Jesse, and I were startled by something inexplicable rocketing into our windshield. Jesse backed the car, and I vaulted out to search for this mysterious projectile that I felt had to be a bird. The headlights revealed a beautiful and delicate creature, a saw-whet owl, lying on the side of the road. I gently picked him up and tucked him into my sweater, aware of his fast-beating heart against mine. I was heartbroken to feel the stillness when, moments later, this lovely, wild creature’s heart stopped. That tiny owl bewitched me, leaving an imprint on my still-beating heart.

Bill Streeter, Executive Director of the Delaware Valley Raptor Center, was kind enough to allow me to work with a live saw-whet named Mortimer. Working with this delightful owl enabled me to feel again the essence of the tiny, feathered creature that briefly came into my life that rainy night.

Dinner Guest and Frolic came into my life together. Read about that colorful story under the photograph of “Frolic”.

To celebrate Jamie Wyeth’s Retrospective at the Brandywine River Museum of Art, painter George ‘Frolic’ Weymouth hosted one of his legendary dinner parties. The centerpieces on the tables were baskets holding objects that Jamie loved to paint – live roosters! When we were seated, Frolic rose and spoke with his usual elegance and humor, and the roosters were respectfully silent. But when Jamie got up and began to speak, there was a crowing somewhere in the room, which I thought was Frolic playing a prank. Not so. The rooster at my table soon answered, and then another and another spoke up as the centerpieces throughout the room came noisily to life, crowing away! Needless to say, poor Jamie could not get a word in edgewise. It was as if the spirits of Jamie’s father, Andrew Wyeth, his grandfather N. C. Wyeth, Andy Warhol, and Jimmy Lynch were exclaiming, ‘Well done, Jamie!’ I’m sure his speech was eloquent, but the rooster chorus pretty much drowned him out. And then, just as Jamie sat down, as if on cue, the roosters fell silent. Frolic had done it again!

Ever the fine host, Frolic insisted that I take two centerpieces home with me. The pair lived in my studio for a time, where they were great fun and proved to be true characters—just like the guests at Frolic’s dinner. True to form, the lively birds, which I named ‘Frolic’ and ‘Dinner Guest’, would often start crowing, reminding me of that wonderful dinner party with crowing centerpieces.

True to her heritage, my Lurcher, Bella, is a skilled thief who enjoys rifling in my pockets. I often don’t feel the gypsy thief, and then I’ll see her lurking away with my reading glasses or pen in her mouth.

I have had sight-hounds for over 40 years, and over that time their beauty, humor, and agility have inspired countless sculptures in my mind’s eye.

I wanted to capture Bella’s beautiful sweet face, her elegance, and her graceful lines in this classic pose.

I was commissioned to create an American River Otter with a sheepish look on his face as he turned with a small trout in his mouth. I only work from life, and, having no friend or acquaintance from whom to borrow a live otter, I turned to the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia and zoos.

Ned Gilmore, Collections Manager at the Academy, generously took me into the bowels of the Academy where he handed me a box of bones. So I set about assembling them and studying the anatomy of my otter. For me it’s all about proportion and angles. Where would each bone be in relation to the others in the pose I wanted?

Then it was on to the zoos. The Brandywine Zoo in Wilmington, Delaware had two American river otters. At the Philadelphia Zoo, I observed South American river otters; always in constant motion, having far too much fun to pose for me. It became clear that I must observe and then trust my memory to capture their spirited movement. The result is Tarka.

I had just started working on a life-size sculpture of Alexander when Nureyev had an encounter with a raccoon in a tree and ended up in a heap on the ground with a broken leg. So I had Nureyev in my studio for three months during his rehabilitation. It wasn’t much fun for Nureyev to be confined, but being able to work from life in the studio was a stroke of luck for me. I would keep my studio door open, and Alexander and his siblings would regularly come in to visit him. After he healed and was released, Nureyev took up chasing cars!

Peacocks have always been a source of inspiration for me.

I have had a muster of peacocks since 1988, when a few chicks were gifted to me. I have loved them all, but Alexander was special. He always brought a smile to my face, greeting me as I walked out the front door or returned from a ride. He was an unbelievable study. If I got lost in my work he would make his sound as if to say, ‘Hey! I’m here.’ One summer I started a series of clay sketches, in our parking area. I moved back to assess my work and stepped on his tail, for he had silently lain down right behind me. He was so sweet, graceful, and elegant. Then there came a day when he simply wasn’t there. I believe coyotes took him. I truly miss him.

I raised Gift, and he lived with me for 17 years. I miss this amazing creature, which I saw everyday. (More about him under the photograph of “Gift in Velvet.”) This sculpture is of Gift’s mate, Spring Fling. It captures the moment when Gift, in his prime, catches his first glimpse of his true love, and Spring Fling, an innocent maiden, peeks back at him with curious interest. I like to think that as long as this sculpture of Spring Fling exists, Gift is reflected in her eyes.

I chose to capture Gift the week before he shed his velvet. For the previous 5 months much of his energy had gone into growing his magnificent antlers. Now he is shedding his rustic, summer coat beneath which is the most beautiful taupe cashmere. For a few days this coat is so short that I can see his shoulder blades and, it seems, every rib and muscle. Then the testosterone flows, and his neck swells. He still has an innocent face, but as the rut begins it will take on the look of the fighting warrior. In this pose he is caught in motion; his upper body on the rise before the fall. He is headed somewhere, and something catches his eye –- the beautiful doe Spring Fling.

Gift was just that – a true gift. He lived for 17 years, and I spent time with him everyday. He taught me so much. I miss him, his smell, and touch.

One day, years later, I received the ultimate compliment about how life-like this sculpture is. I noticed a huge stag in the driveway. I went out and found Gift in Velvet lying on his side. His patina was scratched and had deer hair on it. I’m sure that’s the only fight Gift ever lost.

Lurchers are the Cheetahs of the dog world. Their bodies are engineered with a very narrow ribcage in front, which allows for unobstructed movement and speed. Frisky’s mother was Thistle and her father was Olympian Bruce Davidson’s Lurcher, Herby. The two of them would run like the wind when Bruce and I were walking the 3-Day Event Cross Courses.

Julie was orphaned, and I had the joy of raising her with my German shepherd River. She always thought she should be living in the house and not outside with the other fallow deer. She has given so many children great joy.

Every year our female peacocks hatch a clutch of peachicks. It’s a joy to watch as they discover the world around them. They cannot fly into the trees for safety until 4 to 6 days after hatching. They try, and it’s hysterical! They flap their wings and try to walk up the side of the tree. But they are vulnerable to predators, particularly at night. So, until they can escape into the trees, I sleep under the stars with them.