Hello from Charles

I am informed that people like to know a little about the artist they are working with, so here is my attempt at summarising my rather eventful life before I got the bug for sculpture. 

I started making these works in my mid-seventies, and some say that is a notable achievement, but only, I think we can agree, if I am producing art that is special. Please skim the portfolio and judge for yourself, and then, if you are happy with my art, read on...

My history includes two tours in Vietnam, flying Attack Helicopters for the US Army (1969 and 1971), and over 3,000 total hours of flying time (1/4 of which was in combat). I also hold a commercial ticket for single-engine and multi-engine fixed-wing and helicopters with instrument ratings for all.

But why is that relevant, and what does it have to do with my work now as a sculptor?

Although it is difficult to explain to those who have, fortunately, not been in a war, in my experience, it rewires your brain.

Everything you thought you knew about life's rules and priorities is questioned, questioned again, and changed. A simple sunrise sends different colours to your eyes after combat has added its filter. I was using a Lica camera in Vietnam to fix mental images. I asked myself, was this art I could add to my CV?

I have long had a passion for intricate and beautiful projects.

After 10 years flying for the Army, my priorities shifted: I built a 45-foot-long, engineless sailboat myself and took on the challenge of sailing thousands of ocean miles (mostly single-handed), seeking wonderful islands and coastal anchorages to enjoy and share with friends.

Years later, when a friend asked me to run his new 76-foot schooner, I said yes, and this experience added to my yachting CV. I moved up in the yachting world and, years later, combined sailing and helicopter flying by running a Super Yacht called Edgewater, a 167-foot Feadship with a helicopter.

Life as a Superyacht skipper was good: summers in the Mediterranean and winters in the Caribbean, but love steered me in another direction: to the English shores and Ann, my wife.

I have lived in England for 36 years, and most of that time I have been involved with the art world.

I was an art dealer buying (mostly) fine art in England and selling it in NYC. Ten years ago, I decided to start making art, and working in metal was my material of choice. 

To further this goal, I built a full-size machine shop and started bashing out solid lumps of metal into interesting shapes.

The shapes were unique and interesting, combining master machinist skills with artistry, but they didn't make my heart sing.

As many experienced during that strange time, Covid set me on another path. I stopped bashing metal, acquired 900 meters of marine-grade stainless steel 6mm rod, and started working with this material.

Two years later, I had made, refined, and remade a 14-foot sculpture using the SS rod and by adding interesting bits from the machine shop.

It was arresting, beautiful, and of a form I have never seen before in my understanding of art history. The first Ghost sculpture was born. I scaled down my work and built several more Ghosts.

Happy with the results, I slowly started scaling up again. I am now producing beautiful sculptures that react to the light in interesting ways (round stock twisted, producing points of perfect reflection). They are ever-changing points and slashes of reflected light.

Maybe an old man's life experiences flow slowly, but I believe they can steer something special.

Can a teacher instruct a student on the mysteries of creating unique thought? Does this process have to start with a fresh mind? 

If you break the mould or if the student has never seen a mould, you may then end up producing something fresh to the eye, beautiful, and worthy of sharing with the world.

Is my work notable art? That's for you to judge.

Charles