Little Water Fairy
Fran Bouwman
ARTIST’S STATEMENT
“To be an artist is to believe in yourself and your infinite connections with the world.” — Jeff Stone
This quote came from an artist much my senior, whose brush strokes have conveyed this idea for over thirty-five years.”
Jeff Stone was my mentor. He was the first one to tell me that I was destined to work with my hands. I was in university then, studying philosophy and religion, and had never contemplated art before. I thought he was crazy. But it was under his tutelage that I discovered my affinity for sculpture. And once he saw me well on my way, he disappeared from my life altogether. I am forever indebted to his insight and wisdom. Aside from discovering the intensity of my new found love, I discovered the joy of Lee Valley Tools and have proudly collected a variety of wood carving essentials – chainsaws, chisels, die-grinders, dremels, sanders, mallets, stains and oils. After 10 years of sculpting, my tools have been challenged by such woods as maple, cedar, willow, basswood and my personal favorite, butternut – a tree that holds a beautiful grain and is indeed, like butter to cut. Through many trials and tribulations, I have slowly come to understand the nature of wood. Although I might hold a clear vision of how I want something to look, more often than not, the tree will have its own agenda. I have come to accept and have faith in the famous perspective of Michelangelo, who described his technique as “liberating the figure from the marble that imprisons it.” For just over a decade I have taken every opportunity to communicate, through sculpture, the bewildering nature of the world around me. Although my style often fluctuates, my work is primarily figurative with elements of the surreal and abstract. As my understanding of the world around me changes, so then do my sculptures, revealing the deeper and sometimes darker aspects of humanity. Presently I am challenged with exploring through sculpture the positive, or ‘yang’, in life. Whatever the exploration, my aim in art remains steadfast – I wish to capture a moment or impression of life. I want my viewers to become present in that moment and to simply contemplate it.
Fran Bouwman
www.franny.ca
Compassion (a mask)
The following quotes have been taken from a recent interview with Franny:
« The idea, however cliché, that an artist cannot live without her art, holds true for me. I cannot begin to fathom my existence without the joy of creating my art, the joy of falling into the beauty of carving a collarbone, an ankle, a shoulder blade or the curl of someone’s lip. Actualizing what I have witnessed, felt or dreamed is a thrill beyond any other. It’s magic. It’s that inconceivable moment when I realize that my own two hands have created a face or figure that I’ve never seen before. I’ll never quite comprehend that transition – the terrifying and exhilarating journey I take from the time I’m faced with a new log to the actual finished sculpture. Michelangelo described it as “liberating the figure from the marble that imprisons it.” Admittedly I do not believe that I am the only one at work in my studio. I believe that something “other” is present. This “other” has been referred to as God, the collective unconscious, a Higher Being, the artistic spirit or simply one’s own muse and, I’m sure, by many other names as well. »
« Regardless of how one chooses to term it, I have great reverence and respect for whatever it is that works within me as an artist. Although there is this wonderful exhilaration of stepping outside of time altogether, there is also, of course, the reality of being in time, of feeling my body ache, of screaming out in frustration when things are not going well, of wondering why the heck I’ve chosen a vocation that is never predictable and which barely allows me to pay my bills. Indeed, the reality of being an artist is also riddled with anxiety and angst. Aside from physical pain and financial precariousness, there is also the momentous fear of the critic. Is the piece good enough? Is there enough social commentary? Is it comparable to my contemporaries? Is it too expensive? Or is the whole darn thing meaningless? Questions such as these can certainly plague at the even the best of times. Fortunately I’ve learned over the years to have faith – that wherever I am is exactly where I’m supposed to be for my ultimate growth. So when I ‘m having difficulty with a carving, whether I’ve miscalculated a portion of the figures anatomy or have accidentally cut out an essential piece of wood, I try to see it as a window of opportunity. It pushes me to see outside of the box, outside of my intended design. Having this perspective allows me to successfully work with pieces that normally might be considered unsalvageable. So there you have it– I sculpt because I believe in beauty and the endless potential it holds to change and inspire, for both the viewer and myself. »
