sally
rogers, sculptor
by arlene winkler
For some reason
I’m thinking about history on my way to this interview. Ever
since I witnessed the terrible events of September 11, my sense of
continuity has become rather tenuous, and I suspect I am looking for
an anchor. So far, I’ve found the most comfort in the words
of Chairman Mao, who, when asked what he thought about the French
Revolution, replied, “It’s too soon to tell.”
I can only wonder
what all of this has to do with Sally Rogers.
As it
turns out, I get to read the answer before I meet her. The trees along
the gravel road that leads to her studio are hung with hand-lettered
signs. At 30 miles an hour I almost pass: “Democracy RIP 1776-2000”,
so I slow down for the Abbie Hoffman quote: “You measure democracy
by the freedom it gives its dissidents—not the freedom it gives
its assimilated conformists.” However, I come close to crashing
the car, when I read the one from Barbara Bush: “Why should
we hear about body bags and deaths? I mean, it's not relevant. So
why should I waste my beautiful mind on something like that?”
“I’ve
put up over two dozen signs next to the road, over the last three
or four years,” she explains, as I stagger into her sun filled
studio. Her favorite, the Hoffman quote, has endured the longest,
withstanding the weather and the anonymous individuals who removed
the others. When the signs get taken down or defaced, she considers
it—in addition to trespassing and theft of private property—a
chance to “rotate the stock.” Now, as we look at her inventory,
past and present, I’m impressed by the breadth of her reading,
but even more by her willingness to take a stand.
“What an immense mass of evil must result, from allowing men
to assume the right of anticipating what might happen.”
(Tolstoy) — on the eve of the Iraq War, 3/2003
“Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit
atrocities.”
(Voltaire) in the midst of the obviously fallacious WMD search.
“A great
deal of intelligence can be invested in ignorance when the need for
illusion runs deep.” (Saul Bellow)
“Wars are
poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows.”
(Martin Luther King, Jr.)
All this, and we have yet to discuss the artwork—but I admit,
I’m a little intimidated. Her studio is a sculptor’s dream,
encompassing a metals shop, hot shop, cold shop and mold making area,
as well as a gallery. Sally Rogers is that rarified being, a sculptor
who actually supports herself with her work. Since her residency at
Penland School of Crafts, in 1994, she has transcended her craft beginnings
in glass to become a sought after sculptor. Her public commissions
now come from all over the country, and increasingly, from all over
the world.
These are large,
beautifully crafted constructions of glass, steel and stone that seem
to defy accepted notions of balance and form, with their earth solid,
genderless references to the human figure. “Abstracting the
human form allows you to reach people on a more visceral level,”
she explains. “It helps make a connection between the ways we
relate on a small personal level, and what happens at the larger or
world level.”
She brings
tremendous energy to the process, fabricating large elements from
steel, which is then ground, welded, sandblasted and finished with
acid, before a final treatment of hot beeswax and linseed oil. Utilizing
a pâté de verre glass-casting process, for the glass
portions, these, as well as the stone elements, are cut and ground
to invisible tolerances to fit into the steel. In her own words, “Public
Art has to endure physically as well as conceptually”.
But now we’re
standing in front of an atypical assemblage entitled Hypocrisy, built
on cross pieces of charred locust beams. It’s disturbingly different
than the large public pieces we’ve been talking about.
“One of my in-your-face ideas,” she acknowledges. “I
have a lot of them. But I don’t expect people to buy them. And
I certainly don’t expect to get them publicly funded. The purpose
of public art is to communicate with the public.”
Is she saying
it’s a bad thing to stir up controversy?
“Not
at all. Challenging assumptions is the nature of what we do as artists,
and if no one’s reacting, we’re probably not doing our
job. With public art pieces, however, I find it works better with
more accessible images. Using public art funding is a privilege and
a responsibility - not something to be abused.” We recall
the furor over Andre Serrano’s “Piss Christ” in
1997 and the earlier lawsuit over the Robert Mapplethorpe show in
Cincinnati, that included portraits of sadomasochistic acts.
“I
don’t know if Serrano will stand up to the test of time,”
I venture, “But it’s hard to argue with Mapplethorpe’s
genius.”
“I
agree, but that particular body of work had no place in the public
art domain. The idea of public art funding was to educate, to open
people’s minds to new ways of seeing -not to make them
feel that the privilege of using their tax dollars was being abused.”
The Cincinnati
Arts Center and the show’s director were acquitted in a much-publicized
trial. But the arts, and public arts funding, remained a point of
contention throughout the 1990s as politicians debated the value of
art in society and the need for the government to sponsor it. The
negative effect on NEA funding was significant. Ultimately some of
the money came back, but the question today is, what happened to freedom
of expression? Or am I being disingenuous, is it even possible for
freedom of expression to co-exist with government funding?
“I
think that if you look at funding requirements as a muzzle, it turns
into a barrier to creativity. The real challenge is to get fine art
integrated into communities, to build an understanding about art that
is not functional, that is intended to define a space rather than
accent it, to acknowledge that it has value—and not just culturally.
In total productivity terms, even people who are not arts-oriented
have to admit that art adds economic value to a community. It’s
a draw, it raises value of real estate.”
She’s got
that part right. As the wife of a New York artist, I saw our shabby
Brooklyn neighborhood get hot, and the monthly rent on our loft go
from $1500 to $6500. In the words of Merilyn McCorkle, the poet laureate
of our Brooklyn neighborhood, “Artists are the truffle pigs
of real estate.” I’d like to see that acknowledged—starting
right here. If the real estate industry in Western North Carolina
gave a dollar to the arts for every time they used the word “arty”
we wouldn’t need any NEA funding…and Asheville’s
dream of becoming a world class city would have a better chance of
becoming reality—starting right here, with a world class artist.
On the way home,
I decide to take a detour to Warren Wilson College, the site of her
latest commission Like all her work, it is the stance and posture
of this piece that suggest its emotional inspiration. Love and passion,
acceptance and hope, pain and separation, rebirth and renewal are
continuing themes that she indicates through heart imagery; cast glass
forms in earthy reds that are vaguely reminiscent of that organ. In
this one, I see the juxtaposition of glass within the circular steel
framework as a metaphor for spiritual conflict. To my surprise, it
gives me a sense of place and makes me feel … anchored.
If it
weren’t so late, I’d stop at the wine store and buy a
bottle of Dom and drive back up the mountain. On second thought, skip
the champagne, I’d rather put up another sign—a quote
from Zola: “If you ask me why I am here as an artist, I will
tell you, I am here to live out loud.”
Sally
Rogers
earned her BFA from the College of Art and Design in Detroit, Michigan
and an MFA in Glass, from Kent State University, in Kent Ohio, and
in her former life, she was an Artist in Residence, at Penland School
of Crafts in Penland North Carolina. Her work, which has been featured
in numerous art publications, is in museums as well as private and
corporate collections. A long list of public commissions includes
a large-scale sculpture on the campus of Warren Wilson College. More
complete information and examples of her sculpture can be found at:
sallyrogers.net
Her work is shown
at:
Blue Spiral Gallery, Asheville North Carolina
Galerie Internationale du Verre, Biot France
Imago Galleries, Palm Desert Florida
Sandra Ainsley Gallery, Toronto, Ontario Canada
Arlene
Winkler
is a free lance financial writer who specializes in institutional
finance. Her articles are published in financial trade journals all
over the world. But don’t bother to GOOGLE her, they’re
all credited to the executives who employ her. A former ad agency
president and enthusiastic participant of life on the New York fast
track, she moved to Asheville in 2002 with her sculptor husband, Robert
Winkler. A mother of three, a grand mother of four, and the author
of three screenplays she is dealing with her culture shock by writing
a North/South novel under her own name.