A New Series Of Wire Portraits and Their Inspiration


In spring of 2022 I completed En Vie - a wire portrait eight feet by six feet; the largest, most

complex sculpture I have ever created. Looking into En Vie’s eyes, I could only think, what next?

What could possibly come after this?


Creatively exhausted, I spent weeks in my studio looking around the space. Finding a postcard

from an art show I did twenty years earlier, I began to ponder the trajectory of my life with wire. I

could remember how I felt as a young artist - that insatiable desire to create - a desire so stifled

by fear. I remembered a series of sculptures I had then so wished to create, and the fear that

stopped me from fulfilling this desire.


I set the card down, and with a raised eyebrow, I asked my younger and my present self: Is it

not possible now?


Looking back into the eyes of En Vie, I understood. En Vie worked so well because I had

discovered the power that came with marrying the size of a wire portrait to a specific gauge or

thickness of wire - thin enough to allow me to infuse the face with emotion, not so thin as to

bend under its own weight. Twenty years ago I worked exclusively with 18 gauge wire, no

matter the size of the portrait. I had seen portrait after portrait fail from trying to force a line that

was too thick to hold the delicate emotions I so wanted to convey. This simple insight fully

opened my creative universe.


I began to gather images of models but felt something was missing. If this was to be a series, I

realized I needed an emotional well from which to draw, not simply images. I needed a story arc

to unify the series.


Turns out that the emotional well I needed was in my mailbox! My friend and poet Marc Zegans

had mailed me his latest book Lyon Street - a book of poems about coming of age in San

Francisco in the ‘70’s. A book in which his wiser self speaks with his younger self. It could not

have been a more perfect inspiration!


As I read Marc’s verse, certain words really spoke to me - 'as I catch and throw him to the salt'...

'tonight, I turn and remember'... 'I ignore him and break'... 'a thin line of love tethering you to

shore'... ‘no plans of moving on. You look out’


I was amazed at how easy it was to marry Zegans’s poetic lines to models I keep in my files.

Each stanza that moved me had its own precise set of needs. Some required only a face staring

out. Others wanted more, an arm, even a tattoo to round out the meaning embodied in the

chosen string of words. Over the next twelve months my studio began to fill with diverse

personalities. The wire portrait series, that I had dreamed up in my youth, was coming to life.

After much meditation I named this series: “Wire and Shadow - Portraits of Poems.”