Abstract
The studio of Wm. Couper. Library of Congress.
I’ve been fortunate enough to work out of a number of wonderful studios in my life, but my current studio on the Oregon Coast is the best one yet. My home is a beautiful Victorian imbued with history—it was originally built to house the foreman of the logging company that still operates in our small town. When we purchased the property, the structure that now houses my studio was a dilapidated garage that needed some serious TLC.
We took advantage of the high ceilings by creating lofted storage for busts and maquettes. Movies have long been a passion of mine, and I’ve displayed the piece I did for the release of the 1996 film, The Rock, starring Sean Connery and Nicolas Cage. I also have a collection of favorite DVDs and Blu-Rays, which I play in the studio while I work. I’m a big fan of science fiction, as evidenced by my recent statue of E.T.
View of the main sculpture studio with sculpted pieces of The Rock, E.T., and various sculpture assignments.
“When I need some inspiration, I can walk outside my studio and take in this view …”
View of a separate drawing area where concepts and sketches begin.
“I consider drawing to be the foundational skill of all the visual arts, and I start every project with drawings.”
I consider drawing to be the foundational skill of all the visual arts, and I start every project with drawings. My drafting table is placed to take advantage of light coming in through the windows; in Oregon, there is often so much cloud cover that the light is beautifully diffused by Mother Nature. The setup for drawing is minimalist, allowing me to dedicate all my focus to one piece at a time. I store the rest of my drawings in nearby flat files.
Star Wars fans may notice the stormtrooper helmet sitting on my storage cabinet, and the BB8 figurine by my computer workstation. I have a long history with Lucasfilm, beginning with my work of a poster for The Empire Strikes Back. That poster was selected for the 10th Anniversary release of The Empire Strikes Back. That movie is particularly meaningful to me, because seeing Yoda, the sage Jedi master, inspired me to start sculpting. Decades later, my life-size Yoda statue stands in front of the Lucasfilm offices at San Francisco’s Presidio, as well as Marin County’s Skywalker Ranch. I have sculpted a number of life-size pieces for George Lucas, including father of cinema Eadweard Muybridge and special effects pioneer Willis O’Brien.
My work with Lucasfilm culminated in one of the biggest achievements in my career—I was honored with the Henry Hering Award for outstanding collaboration between architect, owner, and sculptor alongside architect Lawrence Helprin and owner George Lucas. During visits to San Francisco, I have enjoyed visiting the Lucasfilm property and watching as fans of Star Wars take photos in front of the Yoda Fountain. This character means so much, not just to me but also to millions of fans from all over the world. Yoda gave us all wonderful advice: “Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try.” What a perfect message to artists, who learn by doing. It takes repeated effort over many years to gain skill as an artist, and many spend a lifetime mastering their craft. Yoda would be proud of our dedication in the face of our artistic fears.
A view from the drawing table with the house seen through the window.
A sculpture in progress: a tribute to Louis Simpson, the builder of our 1905 home.
Looking down from the loft into the main sculpture area. My wife, Libby, is seated in the chair.
Photo of a poster of The Empire Strikes Back, one of my graphic designs, and a life-size Yoda in plaster.
Working from home has become more popular recently, both due to changing technologies and world circumstances. One of the best parts of working from home, for me, was being able to watch my kids grow up. They would bring their sketchbooks into the studio to draw or take some clay to make little sculptures while I worked. I could count on my wife and muse to bring me a warm cup of coffee, exactly when I needed it the most.
These days, family visits mean that the kids (now in their thirties) can’t wait to get into the studio and see what I’ve been up to recently. What a meaningful experience it is to connect over art. Even now, we get cozy in the studio with steaming mugs of coffee to visit, often with Close Encounters of the Third Kind or The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance playing in the background. When I look out my studio window, I can sometimes see my cat, Felix, waiting on the porch for me to take a break and bring him a treat, or my neighbor waving me over to tell me about their latest home improvement project. Working in my studio allows me to be surrounded by everything that inspires me, and for that I am truly blessed. ●
An angel sculpture in plaster hovers over a pencil drawing of George Lucas on the easel in the background.
“Working in my studio allows me to be surrounded by everything that inspires me, and for that I am truly blessed.”
The studio entrance hall displays past projects.
Studio Evolution: From the Basement to Perfection
Let me share with you the story of my current studio—a journey that will resonate with many sculptors. It’s a tale of moving from makeshift workspaces to finally achieving my dream studio. Along the way I encountered challenges, overcame obstacles, and learned valuable lessons that shaped the functional and fulfilling space I have now.
For decades, my studio was a cramped, dimly lit, brick-walled basement in the heart of New York City. Despite its limitations, I cherished this humble space. Illumination was a constant struggle, relying on a single overhead light and portable lamps to create the necessary interplay of light and shadows. Artists make do with what’s available. In that basement, I produced numerous life-size and larger-than-life sculptures, such as Serenity, a 7-foot figure, The Bather, a 6-foot sculpture, and Hatti, another over-life-size figure. Countless other pieces and commissions found their genesis within those brick walls.
Working on waxes in New York City apartment, which had become my new studio.
Working on the clay version of Hatti in New York City basement studio. Photos by the author.
Though I was aware of the studio’s limitations, it remained my sanctuary until a fateful day when my 8-foot figure, The Tempest, collided with the low ceiling. Faced with the impossible choice between art and living space, I dismantled the sculpture, transporting its sections to my New York City apartment. There, I bid farewell to my old furniture to make room for studio stands and tools. This was my new workspace, and it was, in fact, an improvement. But my small apartment, with its obstructed views and limited lighting, presented its own set of challenges. Track lighting and movable lamps became my allies, while mirrors strategically placed provided the necessary perspective. At the end of each day, I studied photographs of my work, which provided insights and understanding of its evolving needs.
Then, the unexpected happened—a pandemic swept across the world, and my husband and I found ourselves living and working in a house on Cape Cod, Massachusetts. The uncertainty of those times left me unsure of what was temporary and what would become permanent in my situation. As I continued working on various commissions and projects, the three lower-level rooms of the house gradually transformed into makeshift workspaces. Initially, each room had a specific purpose, from clay modeling to mold-making, and wax and finished work storage. However, as my need for space and natural light grew, I found myself expanding into the main living area. Over time, the boundaries blurred, and the entire house transformed into my workshop.
The seamless transitions from daily life to art-making had its advantages, but once again the “make do” situation exposed a need—in this case a need for a dedicated space to accommodate both my work and the living environment I now shared with my put-upon (but understanding) husband. The longing for a studio that functioned seamlessly and eliminated the need for constant improvisation and workarounds led me to collaborate with architect Woody Pier of Pier, Fine Associates in New York on a new studio on the adjacent property to the house. Woody’s deep understanding of the sculpture creation process and his ability to merge functionality and aesthetics made him the perfect partner for this venture. Together, we embarked on an enjoyable and fruitful collaboration, and in May 2022, I stepped foot into the completed studio.
Working on The Bather in clay in my basement studio, New York City.
The Tempest in clay in the New York City apartment, which ultimately became my new studio. Photos by the author.
The studio’s openness, both in terms of space and light, fulfills a lifelong yearning. Its design allows me to step back, observing my work in progress from various angles and distances. Floor-to-ceiling windows adorn the eastern side, ushering in abundant natural light, a stark contrast to the solitary ceiling light of my first studio. It includes a spacious and adaptable work area, complete with a dedicated room for wax and mold work, boasting excellent exhaust and ventilation systems. A small gallery space, a convenient slop sink, and a kitchenette were also incorporated, ensuring uninterrupted focus on my work. An outdoor deck provides an added unique work area, while a much-needed storage space caters to molds, plasters, and supplies. Mirrors continue to play an integral role in my artistic process: one wall is fully mirrored, and I also use a freestanding, wheeled mirror that can be moved to various positions.
“Though I was aware of the studio’s limitations, it remained my sanctuary until a fateful day when my 8-foot figure, The Tempest, collided with the low ceiling ….”
Woody Pier has made the exterior of the studio structure both distinctive and captivating, we think, while making sure that the wood-shingled building blends seamlessly with the surrounding Cape Cod architecture. Over time, like a patina on a sculpture, the building will age gracefully in its natural environment.
It is interesting to hear Woody’s thoughts on the application of architectural analysis to a sculpture studio design: “The design of the studio was inspired not just by great sculpture studios of the past, such as Chesterwood, but specifically by the beauty of this particular site and its position overlooking the ocean. I felt our task was to create a building that respected the architectural vocabulary of the Cape but interpreted it in a new way to take advantage of the spectacular views and abundant natural light available to us. Toward that end, we opened the east and north facades with large glass doors which led out to decks overlooking the ocean. The hipped roof is distorted to create an oculus at its peak that figuratively “reaches” for the north light. And the double-height studio space provides the volume to create larger works. The end result is a space that is intimate in scale, but feels grand and that takes full advantage of the spectacular light and views to provide inspiration to the sculptor at work within.”
In this idyllic setting, my studio has become a space for creativity and inspiration, breathing life into each artistic endeavor. The inaugural piece I created within this sanctuary was a 4-foot seated young girl, a work that evolved from a smaller piece conceived during the pandemic. I was able to invite a mold maker to work in my dedicated casting room. I found that this ventilated room, which we tented, added critical safeguarding to the creative process. The little girl currently finds herself in New York at the Modern Art Foundry, where I recently completed the wax work, and where she now is being cast in bronze.
First piece created in the new studio on Cape Cod. The bronze will be completed shortly. Photo by the author.
The new studio space, with its functional design and added conveniences, now welcomes numerous visitors, a luxury previously unattainable in my smaller workspaces. Recently, the Cape Cod Museum approached me, requesting a visit for a group of docents to explore the studio. This visit was an enriching addition to their program, coinciding with an upcoming exhibition of my work in late August, where I will also deliver a lecture. As the Museum’s director and docents roamed through my space, I had rearranged my pieces, facilitating a smooth flow and leading engaging discussions about my inspirations and challenges. The insights gained during this visit will be shared with the Museum’s future visitors. Those visitors will first be introduced to my work by my 8-foot sculpture, The Tempest, which currently stands at the front of the Cape Cod Museum.
“Being by the ocean in this secluded and enchanting location fuels my artistic spirit …. The past sounds of traffic from the city have been replaced by birds and the serene sound of rolling waves.”
Being by the ocean in this secluded and enchanting location fuels my artistic spirit. However, the solitude comes with its own set of challenges, such as limited access to specialized supplies and services. Yet the joys and creative stimulation offered by Cape Cod’s unique ambiance far outweigh any inconveniences. The past sounds of traffic from the city have been replaced by birds and the serene sound of rolling waves.
Main Room in my new studio. Photo by the author.
Outside the front of the studio with my sculpture Hatti. Photo by Taylor McDade.
View of slop sink area and side door.
As the summer months arrive, the seashore teems with life, I’m filled with ideas and inspirations. These moments, whether I’m walking along the beach or observing visitors collecting shells and rocks, with all the various activities breathe life into new concepts waiting to be transformed into tangible works of art.
Docent visit from The Cape Cod Museum of Art, prior to my upcoming exhibition and lecture. Photos by Hannah Conway.
I find great joy in seeing how my sculptures have become woven into the fabric of Cape Cod and its captivating landscape. Years ago, my sculpture of a boy playing baseball, The Catch, was permanently installed at the baseball field in Eldridge Park, home of the Orleans Firebirds. The field and team are steeped in a century of history as an important part of the Cape Cod Baseball League, and I’m thrilled to feel a special sense of connection to my new environment.
“… I’m thrilled to feel a special sense of connection to my new environment.”
I knew, undoubtedly, that a well-functioning studio space would bring me joy and convenience, eliminating the need for constant improvisation and workarounds that had plagued my previous studios. Yet I could not have anticipated the profound impact that working amidst the natural surroundings in this beautiful and cherished space would have on my life. ●
View of Gallery in the studio.
View of the wax and mold room in the studio. Photos by Hannah Conway.
Main Room facing the entrance of studio. Photo by Hannah Conway.
The Raincatcher on the studio deck, facing the National Seashore. Photo by the author.
by H. Stuart Jones M.A.
Henry Stuart Jones (1867-1939) was a British scholar who worked at University of Oxford, Trinity College, and University College of Wales at Aberystwyth. He did quite well in Wales, as he learned Welsh, and served on a number of councils, such as the National Library of Wales. He was a prolific author and primarily interested in ancient Roman and Greek art and history. His other publications included Classical Rome (1910), Fresh Light on Roman Bureaucracy (1920), and The Roman Empire 29 BC–476 AD (1909).
by Alfred Maskell F.S.A.
Alfred Maskell was an artist, primarily a photographer, who worked tirelessly to advance the art. He was a member of The Linked Ring, an invitation-only group that wanted to advance photography as an art form. Members encouraged experimentation with the photographic process. The organization was founded in 1892 by Maskell, with George Davison and Henry Van der Weyde. The Linked Ring was at its peak between its founding, until roughly 1909. Maskell, along with Robert Memachy, helped to develop the gum-bichromate printing, which is able to create a unique painterly image from negatives.
by Charles Holme
Art made by those not traditionally trained has several terms, including outsider art, folk art, raw art and peasant art. This particular work offers a carefully chosen selection of both the decorative and fine arts of Sweden, Iceland, and the northern-most region of Finland. A comprehensive survey, it includes paintings, jewelry, textiles, metalwork, carving, furniture, and pottery. Charles Holme (1848-1923) was an art critic who promoted peasant art and edited numerous books to share the artwork, including Old Houses in Holland (1913); Peasant Art in Russia (1912); and The Art of the Book (1914).
by George Redford FRCS
George Redford was remembered as one being well traveled in art circles, a fan of the old masters in particular. As the art correspondent for the London Times, his judgments were well regarded. He worked with the Art Treasures Exhibition of Manchester, as well as serving as a Commissioner of the Leeds Exhibition. He was Registrar of the Crystal Palace Collection of Sculpture in 1853-1854; Curator of the Art Treasures Exhibition in Manchester, 1857; and Commissioner for the National Exhibition of Works of Art, Leeds, 1868.
by Paul Rich
Juárez doesn’t think of art as something that is done just in a studio or for that matter kept in museums and looked at on Sundays. He seizes a plate at dinner and does a sketch on it. He sees a space next to a school playground and wants a sculpture occupying it that the children can play upon. Importantly, his sketches in this book reflect, as do his sculptures, not only this spontaneity but his ability to intellectually grasp and perpetuate the essence of what he sees. The drawings are both spontaneous and intellectual, which is no mean feat. It is indeed magic.
by Clara Erskine Clement
Clara Erskine Clement was born on August 28, 1834 to John and Harriet Bethiah Erskine in St. Louis, Missouri. Throughout her life, she wrote a great deal, primarily on art history, including such works as Handbook of Legendary and Mythological Art (Boston, 1871), Stories of Art and Artists (1886), Women Artists in Europe and America (1902) and Women in the Fine Arts (1906). She loved traveling, and was known especially for her travels to Turkey, Palestine, and parts of Europe. This new edition is dedicated to the members of the National Sculpture Society.