So, in other words, how you respond to a sculpture, how a viewer sees the sculpture, is vital.
But I don't think that sculpture belongs in everyday life like a table does, or like a chair.
I used to think that the great thing about sculpture was that, like Stonehenge, it was something that stood against time in an adamantine way, and was an absolute mass in space. Now I try to use the language of architecture to redescribe the body as a place.
I would like to go to Kalimantan island in Sumatra to see the carvings and longhouse sculptures. I've also always wanted to look at the wood carvings along the Sepik River in New Guinea.
Every other piece of industrial design is a pot or a dish or something insignificant. But when you have a chair, it's like a sculpture of a person: it's alive. It's big. You can't miss it. It's a 'look at me!' item.
A chair, it's like a sculpture. It starts as a thought and then becomes an idea, something I might think about for years. When the time is right, I express it on paper, usually as a simple line in space. Finally, it takes shape.
Sometimes in a sculpture, it's interesting to me what's stylized and what's natural and how those forms interrelate, as they interrelate in ourselves.
I've always been concerned with my sculpture. The drawings I do at night at home to relax. And for a long time, I just gave them to friends or my wife and didn't really show them.
Sculpture and seams are like boxers and broken noses: They go hand in hand.
Boat building is intellectual - everything has a reason. In sculpture, it has a direction.
