LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
DOLPHIN Tales |
Last year, Fay Jacobs of Main Street (and Letters) fame, and Nancy Alexander of the Rehoboth Beach Art League, decided to launch the Rehoboth Beach Dolphin Project, making Rehoboth Beach one of the smallest cities to ever produce an animal art project. Sculptor Ned Silver was hired to create and cast the dolphins, sponsors were lined up, and artists enlistedthe project was off and running. By November of 2002 the dolphins had been delivered to the artists and the work was underway. With the dolphins in place around town, we asked a few of the artists to send comments. Aina Nergaard-Nammack Well, here we are, my white Dolphin in the middle of my studio, and I. Bungalows, beach grass, sand and sea still in my head, ready to be sent to the white surface. After four months of company, my good friend left, now full of color and shapes, ready for the world. I miss him. Gary Fisher The concept for my dolphin, Miss Libber D. Olphin, was an evolutionary processshe started out with high hopes of being some kind of a Divine Miss M inspired drag queen from the deep, plopped up on our shores and doing her thing "for the boys" on Poodle Beach. But war intervened after the first hints of blush had been applied to Miss Libber D.'s pasty gray cheeks, and the "for the boys"concept took on a much more complex and serious meaning. Miss Libber D. donned her best star spangled red, white and blue bathing regalia, put on a tiara lost by a former Miss Delaware contestant in a late night foray at the Frogg Pond, and leaped onto Rehoboth Avenue as a beacon to all those men in uniform who may be returning from the desert in time for the summer beach season in Rehoboth. She is for "all the boys" of Rehoboth Beachand the girls too! I am excited and honored to participate in this project. It's a great opportunity for Rehoboth Beach to celebrate its thriving art community, and to showcase the large, diversified and talented group of artists we have here. I also painted an elephant sculpture for Washington, D.C.'s Party Animals project in the summer of 2002. Like the Party Animals and similar displays in larger cities, this will be a fun and memorable display for both Rehoboth's permanent residents and our visitors. Sondra Arkin When I was asked to do the Dolphin for CAMP Rehoboth, I went from flattered to intimidated in no time flat. On any given day, I could be excited, hysterical and overwhelmed at the same time. When the dolphin actually arrived in my studio (thank you Abizak's), it just stood there in line behind another project, taunting me for weeks. I decided to approach the dolphin conceptually and knew that once I had worked out the idea, it would all fall into place. So with the help of friends, the brainstorming commenced: the sponsors behind the CAMP Rehoboth dolphin wanted some clue of what I had in mind. By the wayside we left: Hey Doll(phin), Barbie Doll(phin), (Dol)Phantom of the Opera, Guys and Doll(phins), A Bouquet of Dolphiniums, (Dol)fin de Siecle, Matinee Idol(phin), American Idol(phin), Dolphinigan's Rainbow, and Valley of the Doll(phins). You can imagine the decorations. My personal favorite in support of CAMPsafe would have entailed shrouding the dolphin in a huge condom and calling him "Don't Free Willy. "But our family-pleasing winning idea supported by all was the DolFan Dancer. I wanted to do something with squares, since I've been focusing on them in my art for the past few years. I became interested in doing something a la Antonio Gaudi that would transform the dolphin with mosaic. Somehow this evolved into covering the entire dolphin like a mirror ball and leaving the fans simple, encrusted with pearls. As soon as I attached mesh fans to the dolphin, and the dolphin was gazing at fabric flung to the sky, I knew it was the right idea. Because I have never worked with mosaic or mirror tiles before, I drastically underestimated the time and effort my dolphin would take. Going into it I knew it would absorb all of the time I allowed so I forced myself to do the actual work under a deadline of only one month. I found I really loved doing the mosaic. I discovered that you can listen to Hairspray three times a day and still laugh at the jokes (OK, I can). I found myself talking to my dolphin when it was late at night and I'd missed dinner yet again. My partner Ron sweetly suffered the month as an art widower. One of my favorite parts about a project like this is calling around to talk to suppliers, throwing myself at their mercy as I ask questions and accept or reject certain materials. It was important to me that the dolphin be weatherproof and able to last in a seaside environment. So all of the choices I made were based on that. I hope they were the right choices, and that my dolphin will weather the environment on her own. I learned that 316 stainless steel is best for salt resistance. I learned (late) that permabond mastic cleans up with water. I learned that grout gets hot as you work with it. I learned my friends were very sympathetic to my whining. I learned sharing my progress was part of the fun. I was worried about my dolphin moving outside because of environmental issues but poo-pooed the sentiment that there was danger in Rehoboth from vandals. I mean, the cows were in NYC. Donkeys and elephants were in DC. So it was with tremendous grief that I learned this last lesson when during the installation weekend, Murray's dolphin, born of the same hard work, was vandalized and broken. I learned that despite our best efforts and planning, contrary to our hopes and dreams, hate is a more destructive environmental hazard than any other. Thank you to The Rehoboth Art League and Main Street for bringing more art to our community. Thank you to Cathin Bishop and Laura Simon for sponsoring her for CAMP Rehoboth. I am deeply honored to have participated. Murray Archibald Almost as soon as the Dolphin Project was announced, John Sadler, the owner of Abizak's and a good friend, called to ask if I would paint a dolphin for them. "Sure," I said quickly, not at all realizing what that would mean. Sometime later, as the fall of 2002 was drawing to a close, my dolphin was delivered and become a resident of my studio, and as the months passed I became somewhat fond of her, though if the truth be known, on particularly difficult dolphin days I did occasionally speak disparagingly of her. The design was easy, and came like a vision. She would be called, "Dancing Dolphin, Disco Queen of the Sea, (generally and forever known as Tutu Much)." A tutu, hair, and a crown were a must, and thus began the most difficult part of the project: the location of materials capable of withstanding both outdoor weather and exuberant viewers with dirty fingers. Little did I know at the time that far more would be demanded of Tutu before it was over. Late on a Friday afternoon in April, sculptor Ned Silver installed Tutu on the Boardwalk at Baltimore Avenue, next to the Atlantic Sands. It was a grey, rainy day and I was more than a little nervous about abandoning the object of so many weeks of work to the dark of the off-season Boardwalk, but Steve and I were off to DC for the CAMPsafe photoshoot, and it was time to say goodbye. On Sunday afternoon we returned to Rehoboth and before going home I asked Steve to stop by the Boardwalk so I could check to make sure that she was holding up in the stormy weather. She wasn't there. With a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I ran into the CAMP office. It took only one look at Kathy Weir's face to know that she was not going to tell me good news. During the night, vandals unscrewed Tutu from her base and threw her over the fence into the courtyard at the Atlantic Sands. In retrospect, it was only an object, and no one was hurt. I don't believe it was a targeted attack, as the bathhouses were vandalized at the same time. Still, none of us like to see art of any kind destroyed. Tutu has, for now, been placed into the care of her sponsors John and Pam Sadler, at Abizak's. The sculptor has reattached the broken body parts, but it remains to be seen if she will rise again before the summer is over. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 13, No. 4, May 2, 2003 |