BELLA MACCHINA - leafed plaster with verdigris patina
MAUD MODIFIED - W.I.P. - painted plaster
2017 SUMMER LIPS (two views) - raw plaster & with bronze patina
I FEEL IT - stained white stoneware
NEDERLANDISH - unglazed Lizella earthenware
SELE'NE: WARM NIGHT SEA - plaster, metallic paint with patina
KHALIAH - shoe polished Lizella earthenware
BLUE SATE #2 - bronze powdered plaster with patina
LITTLE PUCKER - gold-leafed resin casting
SIGHS IN THE WIND - cast paper, stained
DAUGHTER OF CHAOS - cast bronze, liver of sulphur patina
JUNGLE RED - frit cast glass
Some detail views of various lip sculptures in different materials, different finishes — all shown except BLUE SATE are generally life-size, though I FEEL IT, NEDERLANDISH, and LITTLE PUCKER are child-size mouths.
When I work in Italy I come across quite a few scorpione . . . they like to shelter under the blocks of marble I carve. The first one I came across in the summer of 1991 was under a stone I later carved into a sculpture. I caught it in a plastic cup and put it in the freezer for a couple of days to kill it without damaging the body because I was planning on casting it in metal. After two days in the freezer I took it out and using tweezers and a hot needle I arranged the legs and joined them with tiny wax rods to ensure the molten metal would fill them completely. However after about an hour working on this wax the scorpion thawed out enough to start snapping her pincers and twitching her legs which she couldn't move much because of the wax. I put her back in the freezer where I left her a whole week to become a full corpse. When I removed her I finished attaching the wax rods to the tips of the pincers and a sprue to her belly and invested her in a jewelry mold. That summer the jewelry and metalsmithing class shared the studio space with the sculpture classes, so I purchased some silver and cast the scorpion in the centrifuge which insured the mold filled completely without any bubbles. After the cast was removed from the investment I trimmed the connecting 'wax' channels away with a pneumatic pencil grinder I had brought with me (my commonly reached-for Dremel grinder would not work with the 240V power in Italy).
In following years I came across many more scorpions in the stonepile, but I'd just let them be — although I always wore my leather work-gloves when moving blocks of stone. The others which I cast were not caught out in the stonepile. They were encountered on different Autumn mornings in the house — under the bed just after I awoke and was reaching for my shoes. The bedroom in the house was on the third floor, and I never saw scorpions on the lower floors (kitchen and dining rooms) or on the stairs. The scorpions on the tile floor would take a bit of time to catch as they are nimble and skitter around, but the biggest one got tangled in a dustbunny and was a bit easier to capture.
Being born under the sign of Scorpio it seemed only fitting that these confrontations with my ‘cousins’ should be remembered in Italian bronze — especially as this year the jewelry and metalsmithing class was not offered. Since no centrifugal casting to prevent bubbles could be used, the process for casting the scorpions had to be changed. When the scorpions came out of the freezer they were all attached to thin (1/4-inch or less) slabs of wax with hot tools by the abdomen and each leg was carefully melted into place, the pincers and tail were connected to tiny wax 'vents' to allow the gas bubbles to escape. When placed in the mold the scorpion would be upside down with the wax slab above it so the weight of the molten bronze would force the metal to fill the mold into the tiny legs, pincers, and tail. Even so, the casting of one of the smaller male scorpions (potassium sulfide patina) is slightly marred by a couple of bubbles on his back. He was cast in the first bronze pour of the semester, while the slightly larger/heavier female casting came out exceptionally well with no flaws from the last pour of the semester.
That Autumn one of the male castings was incorporated into a wall sculpture titled SCORPIO RISING, with the bronze casting attached to a thin slab of the local sandstone upon which I had scribbled strokes of red lumber crayon and compressed stick charcoal. It was shown in the Cortona Exhibit in Palazzo Casali at semester's end, and then when shipped back to the States it was shown again in an Atlanta nightclub which hosted an exhibit themed The Zodiac.
The other scorpione are in my bedroom again — not under the bed this time, but hanging on the wall. I just call the large one Dustbunny Mamma. Of note, the burnt cupric nitrate patina on her has darkened over the almost twenty years, while the potassium sulfide patinas are almost unchanged.
It appears to me that all the scorpions I've encountered in Tuscany are the species Euscorpius concinnus, and their sting is only mildly venomous — like a bee or wasp sting — unless one is allergic. Due to the shape of their bodies I believe the narrower-bodied scorpions (potassium sulphide patinas) were male while the more-rounded-bodied examples were female (silver and the burnt cupric nitrate patina).