I am enamored with the direct act of working clay with my hands as a sculptor and a potter.
Many of my large wheel-thrown ceramic vessels are rooted in traditional Asian forms. I hope to make elegant yet quiet sculptural vessels with strong lines and gestures and I welcome serendipitous imperfections that arise during the throwing, glazing and firing processes. I am driven to create pure forms with a sure hand and an honest approach.
As a sculptor, I confront the central challenge of having something to say about people, and animals, and their condition. I do not have a predetermined theme or even knowledge of what will draw me in. Nonetheless, I approach each project knowing that it will provide me with a rich opportunity to learn and care, to design, to communicate and share ideas with others, and to grow as an artist. I have found myself immersed in portraits of the elderly to capture their dignity as well as complex states of mind. While in the hospital after cancer surgery I became taken with the idea of sculpting a newborn donkey still partially wrapped in its afterbirth sac. Designing and sculpting that hopeful and poetic scene felt to me as though I were ushering in my own renewal. I am currently working on a multi-figure sculpture based on a 1915 photograph of an Armenian mother and her daughters on a forced march. I was not looking for this subject; by chance I saw the powerful photograph which triggered in me memories of stories told by female relatives who survived such a march during the Armenian Genocide.
I had a 30-year career in education, teaching English in Sumatra and high school math and physics in New York City and Amherst, Massachusetts. During my teaching career, I also pursed a practice as a ceramic artist with a passion for throwing large vessels inspired by traditional Japanese and Korean forms. My love for working clay with my hands, combined with interests in the natural world and drawing, led me to representational and humanist sculpture. I aim to sculpt with the same instinct for form and gesture that I have for pottery and I am grateful to have the freedom to pursue what I find beautiful and meaningful.
An elected member of the National Sculpture Society, I work and teach from my home studio in western MA. Awards I have earned through the National Sculpture Society include the Marilyn Newmark Memorial Award, The Jane B. Armstrong Memorial Award, and the Elliot Gantz & Co., Foundry Award.
“In Steve’s work, the eloquent presentation of opposing qualities draws the viewer to look and look again. As one begins to observe in a single, seemingly simple object, one’s own complicated story of contradiction, a tiny but nevertheless thrilling, even seductive sense of connection can develop. It involves a sense of some aspect of oneself being finally and inexplicably understood. The experience can be deeply compelling. A Foal’s Birth, his sculpture capturing the moment a newborn donkey emerges from its afterbirth sac, is a potent example. In this piece Steve achieves an exceptional balance of opposites. For example, the gentle and somehow wet nature of the foal creates an illusion of damp softness that stands in stark contrast to the hard, dry, solid nature of the bronze material itself. Likewise, the sculpture presents an endearing little being who seems to embody a fragile, profound innocence. Paradoxically, however, it simultaneously insists on, and with an ever-so donkey-like stubbornness, its very existence. It’s as if the donkey is quietly announcing ‘I am here. There is no going back. I will be.’ Finally, consider how the donkey foal exudes a sense of newness. This is powerfully conveyed in the awkward first stretch of the forelimbs, the not-yet erect ear, and the slimy placenta draping over the tiny haunches. All of these qualities exist in stark contrast to the weary, almost old expression in the eye. This particular and intriguing juxtaposition calls to the viewer, enticing them to contemplate the perplexing interconnection between naiveté and wisdom–qualities that, when experienced through the lens of knowledge, appear to be antagonistic, but when combined in the humble, as in the donkey foal, meld together and become integral to one another. ” – Naomi Weizenbaum
