Welcome

Ahoy Matey, and Welcome to REPTIRE, an intermittent ‘ship’s blog’, chronicling the slow rise in the South Easterly skies of Reptire Designs; a studio that designs and crafts always artful, and sometimes useful THINGAMABOBS from old Indian Cucachou, aka ReTired Rubber.

Down Below, Ye shall find a permanent 'flagship post' marking the Maiden Voyage of Reptire Designs.

And below that, in the ‘hull’, can be found more recent posts chronicling the daring new adventures of Reptire Designs, dashed with small bits of whimsy, spotted pickerel, local color, and lizard lore..

In fact, on the right, in pale purple, ye shall find the Captain's Log’s Table of Previous Posts, which ye can peruse by year, month, and title to ye hearts content.

If ye haven't gotchyer sea legs yet, My Pretty, Ye can take a gander at our website at www.reptiredesigns.com, to get a proper Landlubber's Introduction.

Thanks for stopping in, I do hope you enjoy your visit aboard this ship! HARHARHARHAR.......

Sincerely, Travius Von Cohnifus

Captain, Founder, Indentured Servant, Rubber Alligator Wrestlor Extraordinaire a' this here ship.

enter the treadknot

Welcome
On September 26th, 2006, I launched my tire art/design business, Reptire Designs, with a solo exhibition of my artwork in The Green Gallery at The Scrap Exchange Center for Creative Reuse, in Durham, NC. For many reasons, it was a night that I will always remember, and I am grateful to Laxmi (my girlfriend at the time) and Edie (my mother, still) for dutifully documenting while I shmoozed, so that I may now shmare a taste of the evening with anyone who was not able to attend...



On a cool but lively autumn night-before-Center Fest, a stream of friends and curious strangers trickled (like pebbles through a rain stick) through the forest of odds and ends (that roost at night in The Scrap Exchange), out into the warm light of the back savanna, a scene utterly glopped with bizarre rubbery hybrids. Tentative and curious, the visitors craned their necks, nibbled, pecked, stood back, moved in closer. From the walls, glassy mirror eyes gazed back through black unblinking eyelids, while beneath the visitor's feet, in a steamy drainage cistern, a mortal drama unfolded. Primordial forms, with no eyes at all, sat puckered on stoops. A cascade of glittering steal droplets formed a curtain, to which clung a colony of tiny tire knotlettes.

Vito D., a long-time collabator down from the Asheville area, caressed the warming air with his Strange Little Folk music. I bobbed and I flit, and at an increasing clip-someone must have opened the faucet a bit....for soon I was swooning, I just about lost it! As the evening progressed, to my delight and amazement, 'family' from Durham, Chapel Hill, Pittsboro, Hillsboro, Siler City, Asheville, and Fresno all made it! From the Cohn Clan to the Steudel Clan to the CFS Clan; from the WWC Clan to the Duke Ac Pub Clan to the SAF Clan; from the Bike Shop Clan to the Ninth St. Clan to the Scrap Clan... and every one in between, guys, they were all appearing before my stunned, blinking eyes. While I spun and I splayed, Vito now played-CHURNED- up a torrent of gritty ditties; while a staff volunteer (Brandon's a photographer, I swear) whipped up pitchers of Mango Lassies. And The 'Scrap Exchange girls' worked the door, the counter, and the floor, going "cha-CHING!", cha-CHING!","cha-CHING!".!.



By the end of the night, hundreds of friends, acquaintances and had-been-strangers had poured in, poured over the work, and partaken in, what was for me and my art, a monumental communal feast. And on top of it all, I got to place many of my preemies in hands that I love and trust, and in several instances, hands that fit them like gloves. What a privilage to be able to connect with people this way. Heading into the turbid seas of small business, I can confidently say that if I drown tomorrow, I am at least blessed today with the memory of (as Vito later put it) one authentically good Durham night.



Thanks to all of you who were there; in body and/or spirit.





Reclaimed-wood Builder and Reptire Collector Howard Staab enjoying magwi knot at the Scrap Exchange

Reclaimed-wood Builder and Reptire Collector Howard Staab enjoying magwi knot at the Scrap Exchange
I can't think of anything more rewarding for an artist than to see someone interacting with their artwork. Photo by Laxmi Haynes

Sammy and Dannette contemplate

Sammy and Dannette contemplate
Photograph by Laxmi Haynes

Cascade Colony of Knotlets

Cascade Colony of Knotlets
They would go with your jacket, would they not Claire?

Laxmi Resplendent

Laxmi Resplendent

Mavis In The Mist

Mavis In The Mist
Photograph by Laxmi Haynes

Tire Amazement

Tire Amazement
Photograph by Edie Cohn

Thursday, October 20, 2011

RECLAMATION: 2 Woodcarver's Spheres

The Installation of Three Knots, Two Spheres, and a Mirror
RECLAMATION @ Hermitage Museum & Gardens
Location: The Hermitage Museum Hallway, downstairs



Spheres.

Two pieces that I was determined to make for Reclamation were two Tirespheres, on each for the two woodcarvers, who devoted copious amounts of time, sweat and passion to enlivening every facet of the Sloanes’ house with their artistry.


SPHERE FOR WOODSEND
The first tiresphere I wanted to make for Charles Woodsend, a master woodcarver living in the area who the Sloanes had connected with, and contracted to not just ‘wittle’ the house, Woodsend actually BUILT the house! And remodeled it several times, including turning the whole thing around! THEN, of course, he proceeded to incorporate his many fine features into the architecture of the place, finally inscribing on the wall above a window (at Mrs. Sloanes direction, to be sure) something like “Art is simply about doing things the right way”

(GET ACTUAL QUOTE)

The second tiresphere was to be for Rydingspar, a Scandenavian woodcarver who came to work with on the house with Charles Woodsend. Rydinspar had a style which was more fluid and gothic than Woodsends, who, perhaps as a builder, made more rectaliniar pieces to harmonize with the house that he had built. Rydingspar added some interesting hounds and  gargoyle like figures.

 (GET RHYDINGSPAR’s FULL NAME)

To honort these two artists, I wanted to create a sphere for each of them, reflecting their own personal style.

For Woodsend, I wanted to make a sphere that reflected the man, his style and his work.
I knew that I wanted it to be somewhat rectilinear, relying on the right of angles at the joints of a tireshpere’s perbindicularly intersecting tires to help express this. I had brought with me a basic tire sphere, which I had considered using, particularly if I got caught on time. However, as the weeks wore on, I just didn’t feel good about it. It seemed somehow in sufficient. Fortunately, I was able to leave myself enough time at the end to really concentrate some attention on this piece, and when that time came, it became clear to me, that I would need to start from scratch. Otherwise, I might have the ghost of Charles Woodsend, rattling his chains at me forever more (which he had been practicing to good effect for the past 4 weeks). So I had myself another beer, and got down to it.

First, I though it should be more robust. Charles Woodsend was a big burley bear of a man from the looks of him in a painting. Kind of a John Bonham. So I selected a few ‘3-sets’ of  mountain bike tires that I had brought from NC to choose from, finally settling on a hybrid tire with a nice warm brown sidewall, with the fabrics weave showing, and a nice smooth finnish on the tread, reflecting well the smoothness and finish of Woodsend’s woodwork inside the house. This was a great start. In a way, it represented Woodsend the builder. But I knew that it needed more. After all Woodsend was not just a builder, but an artist as well. In the words of an Irish sailer I met at a bar in Norfolk, he was both ‘form and function’. So I decided that I would attempt something that I never had before, and that was to add another ‘tier’ to the sphere. An intierior sphere, in the tiresphere. For this, I selected another ‘3-set’, this time a thinner road bike tire, a nice ‘armadillo’, with a dark rich red sidewall. A set of these can make a really nice and salable sphere, and I must admit I was alittle bit weary of risking these for this experiment, as I was not at all sure that it would work… RATTLE RATTLE, Woodsend wailed away on those chains, and so further on, into the night, and into new territory in my tire craft I plodded.


And when day broke, I finally had a Tiresphere worthy of hanging in the house that this man had built with his hands.



RHYDINGSPHERE
My next task, of course was to build a sphere for Rhydinspar, the Scandenavian woodcarver, who came on work along side Woodsend at his work on the house. 
This one I thought would be fun, as, again, Rydingspar had a much more fluid, gothic approach. I had created an ‘Irisphere’ several years ago, which Melanie, the Director of the Museum, had really adored, and wanted me to include. The very organic shapes created by tying these tires together in the way that they are is very evocative of plant life to me, and I thought that it at least began to approach Rydingspar’s style, quite well actually.
        
         The only problem with including this piece, was that I had originally created it as an experiment, and it was still in somewhat of an experimental state. For instance, all of the tires were bound together with zip ties. Of course, this wasn’t acceptable for presenting in a museum. But to replace them with another fastener would have been an exacting process, as I had not been carefull  and methodical in marking the places for the connections, and then it was destined to be a bit wonky.

         So finally, I realized that the only thing left to do, was to rebuild it, from the ground up, using a new group of tires.
I searched through the pile that I had brought and amassed, and fortunately, was barely able to find 6 black tires of the same size!
 And so I was off!
It had probably been 4 years since I had made that thing, but once I dug in, I began to remember how it all worked, and what a marvelous being this sphere is.

The beautiful thing about the Irisphere is that it is actually two sets of three tires, one inside of the other, each holding the other in place. The openings between the tire are created by pulling these two sets against themselves, towards eachother, somewhat against their own will God, there has got to be some fascinating allegory of relationships in there, but I don’t know what it is yet. (Maybe an arranged marriage?) But the point is that the form is under a dynamic tension, and I decided that I wanted to bring that out and show it a little.

And so I used some left over scraps of ball chain to bind these parts together, in their unfortunate marriage. You can these two sphere, yearning to return to themselves, by the tension put on this chain, which stretches straight and alert. I found the effect to be quite a bit more telling (and visually pleasing) than those ugly zip ties. But I didn’t stop there. What, I wondered, if the inner sphere showed itself, as its own sphere, suspended in this marriage to the larger sphere? The plot thickens!

Well the end result is not meant to be any kind of comment of Rydingsphar’s family life (of which I know nothing), but it did come out to be a damned interesting form!
And while it is actually a little TOO curvy for Rydingsphar’s style, which combined these curves with points, these points can be found, interestingly, not in the actuall form, but in its appearance, when the viewer looks through the form. All in all, I would call this piece mostly successful.



These two spheres we hung in the main hallway of the museum downstairs, infront of two large windows. These windows had a nice grid of steel which I thought complimented the ‘moving’ black bands of the tires. The light shining through also added to the gothic aspect of these forms, particularly Rydingsphar’s, which sort of took on the look of stained glass, and the ornate bas reliefs that he had carved above the window.



Woodsend also built the water tower that you see on your left hen you enter the museum gate. It was here that he had his studio. One day, Colin Firth, the Interpreter of the Museum, agreed to show me the space. Unfortunately, it turned out that his tools had been removed. But Colin did show me the inside of the tower, which was structure to behold.





RECLAMATION: The Pod

The Creation and Installation of "The Pod
RECLAMATION @ Hermitage Museum & Gardens
Location: Arched Entryway into Millstone Courtyard

The first piece of tire art that you might encounter as you approach the Reclamation Exhibition at Hermitage is one I call "The Pod".

The Pod/ Rain Tree Flower, with Kong Tower looming in the back ground.

Really though, it is inspired by the Rain Tree seed flower, or perhaps, seed pod.

This piece is a long time in the making, and there is a little bit of a story behind it.

The idea for this piece first came last year, when a young girl, the daughter of a friend, sweetly gave me an actual flower from a rain tree, which (completely unbeknownst to me) grows in the courtyard of the Courtyard Cafe, up the hill from the Siler City Farmer's Market we were at. The more I studied the gentle architecture of this form, the more I wanted to try to build one from tires, which I knew were capable. This would be the first, flagship flower of a series I am developing, called Tire Botanics (tm).

One aspect of the rain tree flower's tri symetrical shape, is the 'seam' that seems to run down each face, or petal, of the flower. Attached to the inside of these seams, are the seeds, or so it seems (sorry, I can't help myself).

For the seams of my rain tree flower, I enlisted the assistance of a very special friend, Chatham County Sculptress Janice "se Quoi" Rieves.

I have some pictures of her helping me with this, but dammit I can't find them.
She did a wonderful job though, of sewing me 3 panels +1, just in case.

These I attached to a frame that I constructed from tires.






RECLAMATION: Orb Weaver Spider

The Installation of Orb Weaver Spider
RECLAMATION @ Hermitage Museum & Gardens
Location: The Rose Garden



RECLAMATION BLOG: OUTDOORS the spider

One of the pieces that I wanted to include in the show was ‘Orb Weaver’, a large garden spider that I had made previously out of an old Singer sewing machine body that my good friend, sculptress Ana Howard, who appreciates creepy old things, had given to me.
The sewing machine constitutes the thorax of the spider, and to this I attached 8 gangly legs from racing bicycle tires, as well as a face, fashioned from innertube, and some brass snaps, to match the ornamentaion of the machine.

I have used a tire sphere for the abdomen, but have also contemplated ‘spinnin’ up something a little more substantial.

If you live in Siler City, you might have seen this gal hanging under the landing of the stairs up to my studio, guarding my bicycle, or crouched up in a corner of one of the windows of the old Belk building on Chatham Ave., which the current owners of Budd Tire generously let me use to display sculpture. (I have him positioned up in the corner, to give passerby a scare).



I thought Orb weaver would be a perfect addition to the sort of creepy, haunted houseness of Hermitage, and I thought that I had found a perfect knave near the entry, for him to wait in.

However, when it came time to install, I was not able to find a sufficient way to mount her with out drilling into the wood or brick of outbuilding it was nestled against.

However, Jolima, the Columbian Gardener, had another, brilliant suggestion..
Under the trellis of the Rose Garden!...She pointed out that with all of the clematis vines growing around it, it would be a very natural setting to place it in.

It also occurred to me that this beautiful rose garden, with its soft textures of petals and leaves, would be a fine setting for this spider, who would cut a sharp silhouette, with its black creeping legs (I plan to redo them in black for Halloween), position in the rear entry way to the garden.

There was still the trick for this one of suspending it, as the cas-iron sewing machine weighs probably 25 pounds alone. Fortunately, the trellis lent itself very well to this task, with a choice of  several beams running perbendicular to one another to hang it from.
Also, the doorway made by the brick columns on either side, and the wooden beam running across the top, provided at least the potential for a place for a ‘spider’ to build its web….

To hang the spider, I had to go searching for some good strapping, and a carabeaner.
I had seen an army surplus store our on Military Highway (Norfolk is a Naval Port).
While the gal there didn’t know what I was talking about when I asked for strapping (I think she thought it was kinda kinky), I did find many different kinds there, finally settling on some kind of back pack harness thing that I reappropriated for my spider sling.
I also got a carobiner.


The idea was for the staff to be able to take the thing down if someone wanted to have her wedding photos taken in the rose garden (I still can’t understand why they wouldn’t want to have my tire-spider in their wedding photos…)






THE WEB
The web had to wait until the end. I had to save it, because I had so much to do, and I felt like the spider could stand on its own if it needed to. I also had never built a spider’s web, though I have dreamed of it for sometime now, though albeit, on a smaller scale…
Fortunately, I was able to squeeze it in at the very end, in the days right before the opening, and fortunately, though I was making it up as I went along, it rolled out pretty smoothly, giving me the rush I needed to go back and forth, from the rose garden to the studio, back to the hardware store, etc…collecting supplies, and pulling things together…



 For the web, I used some of the bamboo that my good friend Barbara, a gardener there, had brought me, from her neighbor’s yard.






With this, I made a rectangular frame, which I strapped to the iron trellis supports, bolted to the brick columns. For fastening these, I fashioned some pretty descent tethers from some bungy cord hooks that I found at the hardware store, and of course, my favorite accomplice of bondage, bicycle tire innertubes. I have to say, I was pretty proud of these.


Once I had gotten this frame in place, where I wanted it, (which was as out of site as possible), I began to attach long strands of ball-chain, across the form, up/down, across, and diagonally, using zipties to attach it to the bamboo frame. 

I made sure to leave some 
Extra at the ends, as I knew that adjustments would need to come at the end.
Once I had these more or less where I thought that I wanted them, I took the plunge, and clipped them in the middle, attaching them instead to a key ring for the center.
Then I took a thinner guage of ballchain, and ran around the web, for the lateral struts.
I used the thinner guage for two reasons. One, ballchain is really expensive when purchasing it through a hardware store. Fortunately, the owner was willing to cut me a little bit of a break on a large quantity, which I was very grateful for. However, his wife was not so generous or understanding, and I lost the discount when I found her at the register).
So I had to finish out my order with the cheaper stuff. Secondly, spiders actually use a thinner guage strand for these lateral rungs, so it kind of worked out!



SPIDER VISITATION
Ironically, I ran into Garden Spiders twice during my time in Norfolk, once behind the Greyhound bus station, when I went to take a leak, dropping off the RV.



 And the second during the time that I was installing the show (after the spider, before the web).


The spider was actually on the front door of the museum, and seemed to be attempting to build his web there. I could only surmise that he was trying to capture one of those cute museum staffers, and while his efforts seemed in vain, I really couldn’t blame him for trying.

What was pretty effective though, was the way he wiggled his butt every time he wanted to put down a dab of webbing. I don’t know how that helps, but I thought, if it works for him, maybe it will work for me….needless to say, I didn’t catch any cute museum stafflings either.

 


Spider Creeper











RECLAMATION: Fortune Teller's Table


This rugged table finally found its mate in life- this studded door, around on the east wing of the museum.
Cute couple, no?

RECLAMATION: Tyrius

The Installation of Tyrius the Tire Worm
RECLAMATION INSTALLATION @ Hermitage Museum & Gardens
Location: Back of House, on roof.

Well, I have to say. Big Tyrius the tire worm, really kinda disappointed me on this one, showing himself to be the Big Baby that he is.

I mean this is a one of a kind oppurtunity, to get to hang out on the roof of a fancy museum. They even let him play on the tribuchets, menace the visitors, and even snack on a few palace gaurds.
And what did he do the whole time. Just sit up there and POUT!...




















....from both ends!


I guess maybe he was home sick.


















I even caught him trying to mooch some food off of this lovely bronze maiden. Pathetic!


However, we tried.

Before I go any further, please meet Stephan, who was instrumental in this thing.




Stephan is a fella who grew up getting into trouble at Hermitage. 
Now he has his own successful architectural restoration business, has helped replace many of the plaster cielings at in the museum, and even teaches ceramics there too.
Stephan was an excellent accomplice in installing this particular (among others) as he posseses a sculptor's rare combination of practical whit, with asthetic sense, making him quite indespensable. 
Additionaly, he is a good guy to be stuck up on roof with for hours at a time, as he has a bounty of good story's from his days working for a destructive rockstar ceramicist in New Jersey.
Good fella there.


So, our task up there, on the roof was two-fold.

1) Place the beast in such a way that it looked at least some what lively and maybe just maybe, menacing.

2) Keep it from falling down and crushing anyone important. (just kidding, we didn't really want to have to haul it back there again ;)

So spent along time, repositioning him (or, his various sections), trying to capture the illusion of vitality, life, movement. This was not easy.



I'm not sure if we succeeded. The part that I think we did succeed the most on, unfortunately, I don't have any good pictures of. But I do remember getting it to a place, where it seemed to have some of that thriving animal energy, which was quite an accomplishment to coax out of Tyrius, who, as I mentioned, was behaving like a pile of rubber bands.

Here's a sampling of some of the many steps it took to get the guy up there, wether he likes it or not.


preparing new growth
Transporting Big Lug (in sections).
A new hood ornament design?

Workin' on that worm
A tragic viniette, no doubt. But so true, so true.


RECLAMATION: The House That Jack Built

If you were taking a walking tour of the works that I installed at Hermitage Museum and Gardens, the next piece you would encounter, after The Pod (which I will return to, and describe at the end of the outdoor installations), and then "Kong Tower", (which I described in the last post) would be a hanging lantern of sorts, which I call "The House That Jack Built".

The inspiration for this piece came from a birdhouse that I found on one of my early scavenging runs in Norfolk and Ocean View, in a pile of detritus, that local victims of Hurricane Irene had amassed into a large pile, which the city had kindly offered to collect and dispose of.

(I have already discribed this piece alittle in my recent blog post about collecting supplies for Reclamation).

But I would like to talk about my ambitions for this piece, and what it became.

As I mentioned in that post, I was captivated by this small bird house. There was something so vulnerable, yet spunky about it.


I imagined it, hanging from someones porch by its tough steel cord, tilting and twirling in 75 mile/hr winds. Did it finally fly away, or did its owner just decide to let it go? I will never know.


But somehow, to me, it seemed an emblem of Hermitage.

I pictured it, out by that mystical water,



almost sort of a spector.




In the entryway to the Sloanes' house, there is an inscription, carved into a wooden beam.
It reads "This is the house that Jack built"
It is an ode, by Mr. Sloane, to the endless work project of his wife, Mrs. Sloane (nicknamed Jack).


This piece is my ode, to the funky, gypsy soul of Mrs. Sloane.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

RECLAMATION: Millstone Court- "Kong Tower"

RECLAMATION Installation @ Hermitage Museum & Gardens
Location: Outdoors-Millstone Court

THE MAKING OF 'KONG TOWER'


One of the sites that I was particularly excited about was the ‘Mill-stone Court’ at the front entrance of the museum. This courtyard features one of the largest collecections of millstones in the southeast. Millstones of course, are large circular stone disks, that were once used by flour mills to grind grains into grits and flour etc.  Mrs. Sloane, being Mrs. Sloane, had ‘reclaimed’ these ancient factory workhorses,  as stepping stones, and arranged them in sort of mandala, leading into the center of the design, and then out again. Obviously, this was a potent site. And so it needed a potent piece. And for this I chose a sort of tribute to what I think all would agree is the most powerful and awesome piece of art that Mrs. Sloane ever aquired. And that is the jade Kong, a ritualistic vessel, ‘forged’ somewhere between 400 – 600 years BC in China.
(SHOW POSTCARD IMAGE?)
The piece has a really spooky presence, which I don't mind admitting, I am somewhat afraid of- 
it is a powerful and awesome artifact.

So, with some trepidation, I endeavored to make some sort of sculptural ode to this object, which would occupy the center of this mandala..

My design was quite simple.
1)    make a tower-like tube, by sewing mountain bicycle tires together,
2)    erect this as a sort of a tower, and
3)    illuminate the tower from within, allowing the light to penetrate the latex embedded fabric of the tires’ sidewalls, causing it to sing with colorful hues of yellows, oranges, pinks and reds, shining out in between the bands of the opaque, black rubber treads.

4) There was also the thought to top the tower with a Tiresphere. The currators had recognized a compass like quality in these forms, and, with the compass points inherent in the millstone court's design, coupled with the nautical aspect of this natal location, there was considerable creedence to this notion.  My suspend this globe ontop of the tower, so that the light shining up through it would light the sphere from below, with a duely dramatic effect...


      

Show sketch drawing of Kong Tower.

TECHNICAL CONSIDERATIONS
Kong Tower presented one of the more vexing engineering problems: one that the pharmasutical engineers at Viagra have been wresting with for years- how to got a long, heavy rubber noodle to stand up straight?...

I have made a much shorter version of this sculpture before, for the base/cone of Atomic Ice Cream, which I installed in University Mall for the first Scrapel Hill exhibtion, in 2008.





For this I had devised a pretty effective system of using about twelve 3’ long bamboo poles to hold the the tube up. The biggest challenge, and subsequently the ‘crowning’ achievement of this design, was, ironically its crown itself. How do you get the heavy tube to stand on these poles?

My answer to this problem was to use equipment that was most indigenous to these bicycle tires, a rim, and spokes. I inverted the spokes, so that their flanged ends, normally holding the hub of the wheel, held the rim, with the help of a nut. These then poked into holes drilled through the nodes of the bamboo. And so then I had some sembalance of a structure that could hang this heavy tube from. The problem was that the top most tire kept on slipping off the edge of the rim.
How to keep this tire evenly positioned upon this rim? Well, once again the answer came from the tire’s native equipment. A uniform bag of air positioned around the wheel, in between and the tire, served to keep equal pressue on all 360 degrees of direction, centering the wheel perfectly on the tire! Behold, the innertube, used in a way that is akin to its native purpose, yet divergent.

So,  as beautiful as I thought this solution was, it was devised for a 3’ high ice cream cone, and, I found, to much chagrin, was definitely NOT cutting it for an 8 foot tall Neolithic jade tower of power….

CHALLENGE #1
First off, the height demanded some support, which I had hither to been able to get by without.  For this, I tried employing some internal spires, that sculptor Bob of Fresh Fish had once recommended.

I tried and tried these out, with some glimmers of hope. It seems like a very graceful solution, and I still believe that it may be possible to make them work.

However, by the end of a long and precious day, I finally had to recognize that what I had was not sufficiently sturdy, as currently devised. So I decided to step away from it, and sleep on it. And during that slumber time, I came upon a simple solution. And that was a tube of gridded wire fencing, to attach the bamboo poles to.


And with whole lot of fanagaling



eventually, I found that this worked quite well.


Turn off the lights...


and boom.


CHALLENGE # 2
Now that I had my tower erected, and attached to the base (a disk of plywood), the question was, how do I keep the whole thing from tipping over?
This was in fact, THE question, because the Executive Director of the Museum, a tough cookie, had made it absolutely clear that she would not stand for it falling over on any one.  And with the museum’s location along the edge of the bay, they can get some pretty
Strong winds roaring through there, I was told.  Hmmm. What to do? I didn’t want to guy wire around it, as I felt that would really detract from its presence and power, as a ‘stand-alone’ object. 
I consulted Steven, a fellow who worked there in different capacities, who would  over the next few weeks prove invaluable to the operation, for his practicle incisiveness.
Stephans suggestion was internal compression. To wire up the inside of the thing, much the way that skyscrapers are held together. This was quite a revelation for me, and I did attempt some version of this, with great results.

However, in the end, I returned to my original approach, which was quite simple-  Put all of the weight at the bottom. My model for this approach was the punching bag that you might have had as a kid, that took a licking, and kept on ticking, coming back up for more every time. An opponent from hell- “Why wont this thing just lie down and die”, you might have found yourself wondering.  Of course the reason was that it was ‘Weighted and inflated’, in all the right places.

So this one time apponent was now to become this piece’s avatar. Perhaps not the stolid, rigid character the Jade Kong imposes, but possessing a certain quite staying power of resilience , all its own, none the less.

For this base-weighting task, Steven resourcefully recommended some rocks piled up behind the shop, to keep the bay at bay, which worked very well. I had cut a small access door in the fencing to get to the light bulb,

 and through this door,  I loaded the rocks.

For some reason, this interior scene, this space of a wire cage, loaded with rocks, surrounded by the eerie striped black and tan rubber, reminded me oddly of some cousin operation, maybe moving a komodo dragon by boat. I guess there was the King KONG name element that could have been at play in this fantastic adventure…



CHALLENGE #3
Getting the lip of the tire to lock on to the lip of the rim was just not working with all of that extra tire weight pulling down on the tube. You think its hard for you to carry around that flat tire on your gut? Well I had 20 of them! I could think of a few solutions to this problem, but none that I really liked very much. I knew there had to be a better one out there. (or atleast, I really hoped there was...). So I decided to suck up my pride, and ask Steven. And, incisive guy that he is, he saw straight through it, right down to that perfect solution.

Kong Tower Lamprey..


The trick of course, was to tie the tube, in place, to the rim. For this punched holes in the tire, and then ran zip ties through the spoke holes of the rim.
It worked Beautifully! It was almost as satisfying as the tube had originally been, to see this gasket, so securely secured to the lip of the tire. Function, pure function, can be so fricken gorgeous when it really is just that. I think Buckminster Fuller said something about that….  



ARTISTIC CONSIDERATIONS
One question that I came to was, how tall do I make it? I wanted it to be generally ‘on the human scale’, which was one valuable concept that I learned about at the SF Art Institute. As my teacher had pointed out, humans relate to objects that are the size of another human, in a special way, unlike we do to objects of any other size. Part of what I was doing there, at hermitage, was to help reintroduce the permanent collection to the public. So I thought, why not introduce this object on that scale, as a human like figure? Originally, I wanted the edge of the sculpture to be just above eye-level, to introduce that idea of mystery. That you could never see over the crest of that lip…

But as I began to build the piece, and was finally able to see it in its space, I was reminded that this object has an almost larger than life presence. It is forboding. Angry, domineering. In essence, it is an Angry Father, to be feared and respected. And so I decided to make it tower, at 8 feet tall.

I also decided at this point do do away with my idea to place the compass-sphere on top. 
It began to feel a little bit ornamental, and sacreligiose. Hermitage Foundation's Jade Kong is a ritualistic vessel, not a pedestal! And as such, I thought it could, and should, stand alone.


INSTALLATION
Next, I had to install the thing.
This involved balancing it on the central millstone (which I might add, is not level).
It also involved digging a trench for the power cord, which I ran from the tool shed to the light at the tower's base. Lucky for me, Public Programs Director, Melissa Ball got on her hands and knees, to dig this trench, so that I didn't have to soil my hands. Thanks Melissa.


The day of the opening, I was faced with a terrible realization. Though I was using an outdoor bulb, I was still using an indoor fixture! (I had only used the piece indoors previously). Lucky for me, Tom caught the mistake (after I'd tripped the breaker several times), and back to MeadowBrooke I raced, finding an outdoor fixture, per Tom's suggestion. Tom, in the knick of time.

Finally getting the piece up there was quite satisfying.



Much Thanks to Barbara, who shared of her Bamboo,


and helped Kong Tower to stand proud.