The Path of Labor

From Franconia Iron 2009

This summer I had the great opportunity to participate in Franconia Sculpture Park’s Thirteenth Annual Iron Pour. This took the form of a week long residency living and working at the park with over seventeen other artists making our molds and preparing for the pour.

The process of making cast iron art is extremely labor intensive, and the process of making it out of doors, competing with the weather, and sometimes for working space is even more strenuous. All the steps needed to create the art, from making sand molds, to cracking iron radiators into small pieces and breaking coke into small pieces, to pouring the molten iron itself, is just so HEAVY! I had participated in many pours when I was younger and I remembered what hard work they were. In fact, I lifted weights in preparation for this residency to protect my back from what was coming. After the first two days of working I almost felt as if it was more than I could do. It was so much harder than I remembered. I worked almost from dawn to dusk most days, which was facilitated by sleeping in a tent. Most of my fellow artists kept the same schedule. As more days past, I was still so very tired, but my production did not decrease. I think this was mainly due to working with such friendly and dedicated artists. I fell into the river of momentum, which when it was white water was hard to keep my head above water, but was most often slow and steady. I began to love the intensity of working all day, never having to wonder what to do next because there was too much to do. I found that the intensity of the physical labor kept me in the moment almost the whole time. It was a one pointed labor. Only as I finished my projects did my mind have the space to wander and worry.

From Franconia Iron 2009

The pour was a spectacular culmination to the week. Many artists made very ambitious projects which were almost all successful and wonderful.

From Franconia Iron 2009

My modest project was not as successful as I’d hoped, but I left feeling completely inspired and happy, knowing that I would miss the hard work. After the pour many of the artists disappeared before I could say goodbye to them, and this seemed standard. When I left I was sad to leave, and felt myself foolishly clinging to the experience and happy to be coming home. I hope that I can carry that work ethic and one pointedness into my fractured practices of studio, and teaching.