Becoming the Bug

On the morning following two days of shoveling a heavy, wet snow, I awoke on my back.  I wanted to turn over, but my arms felt little and weak and sore.  With some struggle, I managed to turn over but I thought, "That must be the way a beetle feels when it's flipped over..."

New Jersey Winter, photo ©Joy Kreves 2011

I've been thinking about beetles lately, because I have a new sculpture project.  I'm making the JUNE BUG sculpture for Metuchen's annual June Bug ArtFest.  Although I embraced this project enthusiastically, I ran into problems immediately.

First and most challenging for me is how to create a sculpture that will sit unharmed by weather, in the sun, wind and rain.  All of my sculptures have been made for indoor environments.  Creating for the outdoors is a whole different ballpark.  My previous mixed media works have been constructed with glue guns and other strong glues, using fiber, paper, balsa wood etc.  Suddenly, "mixed media" seems limited!  I contacted a sculpture supply company about two of their products which sounded promising for outside artworks. I asked if the products would hold up in the weather.   The email response I received suggested that I find somewhere warm and dry to create, because these outdoor conditions present challenges for any material that needs to cure!  How did I miscommunicate my question?  No, I had not intended to create the sculpture outside in this New Jersey winter!

Another problem was the subject matter itself.  Beetles had never captured my interest.  Knowledge breeds interest, though, and I researched June bugs, hoping they were at least the iridescent green ones I've admired as they lay flipped on their backs on the hot summer road.  Unfortunately, June bugs are no beauties.  They are just smooth brown beetles, a basic oval shape with a furry chest area and a somewhat gross-looking semi-transparent body.  Even their babies are on the disgusting side - those white, curled grubs that eat your plant roots.  No cuteness there. They stay underground for three years before making their appearance in May or June as the June Bug we know.  We hear their familiar razzing chorus in the summertime which I find quite pleasant. 

Okay, time for a big dose of artistic license!  MY June bug is going to have some color, some texture, some outsized "eyelashes" (they do have eyelash-like antennae beneath their eyes).  I am going to try to reference their natural transparency somehow though, and emphasize the geometry of their shape.

Blue Mtn. Lattice,©JKreves 2005

Landscape Lattice, ©Joy Kreves 2006

The sculpture base is always the hardest part for me to work out.  In reviewing my previous work I have realized that I most enjoy creating "relief sculptures" more than truly 3-Dimensional ones "in the round".  My entire hanging lattice series fits somewhere between 2 and 3 dimensional work, with some double-sided and some only one-sided pieces, yet they interact with their surrounding space and environment the way all dimensional works do.  As it turns out, I have one extra hanging lattice stand that is looking like a good option for my June Bug sculpture.  It is certainly stable enough for outside, not too heavy for me to manage, and made of steel which will rust in the rain if left unpainted as it is now, but that patina could be nice.

As for possible materials for the bug itself, I've looked at waxed cardstock, (used milk cartons), which I once created surprisingly durable birdhouses from, fiberglass reinforced plastic drop-cloths, wire screening, pellon, and I've made a small test bug from sculpture clay.  A size-able ceramic sculpture would be pretty heavy.  Maybe PART of it could be clay, the rest - metal?  The search continues, but at this point I think it will be mainly different metals with some ceramic parts.  I've already created the outline of a large leaf that my June bug will be clinging to.  As the thinking process moves along I am finding more interest in my subject.

Am I empathetic enough to truly understand my subject matter?  Like method acting, I wonder if method creating would be a helpful way to get in touch with my inner June Bug and thus lead to a stronger sculpture.  I already got a taste of how they feel when my exhausted arms could barely turn myself over in the bed; I've thought about them as I munch my salad leaves; I've spent so much time bundled up in layers and layers to keep warm this winter that I may have come as close as I could to experiencing the compact, inflexible shape the bugs have...perhaps I should reread Kafka's METAMORPHOSIS to  really get in touch with my inner bug.