Embracing Geology

Hey Friends,

As we usher in the final days of the year, I am thrilled to share a glimpse into the work unfolding in my studio over the past two months. This marks the second edition of my newsletter, Moments of Sculpture (catch up on the inaugural edition here). 

When we think of marble sculpture, it is hard not to immediately conjure monumental lifelike statues on pedestals. However, I invite you to reimagine marble sculpture as a medium that is gestural, intimate, and energetic. Recently, I have been reflecting on the innate power and presence of marble as a geological relic—something whose age cannot be measured in years as we do with our lives, but in millennia. I've been thinking about the relationship between geological phenomena and daily life. For instance, it's strange that when we look at classical sculpture from ancient Rome and Greece, we remark on the uncanny ability for the piece to survive thousands of years, but in fact, it's in marble's nature to endure for millions. I see marble sculpture as one of the few opportunities we have to engage with prehistoric matter. Everything in our lives and homes is new in comparison—plastic, wood, metal, textiles, glass, ceramic, etc.

I like the idea of living with something ancient, a geological token that is legible from certain angles and abstracted from others. A sculpture crafted by hand but made by the Earth.

Breaking free from the canonical concept of what marble sculpture is and should be has proven challenging, but leaning into gestural and expressive marks has helped guide my recent work. I find myself drawn to capturing a moment of the figure—a study of an element, like the female back with its vertebrae and shoulder blades, using my imagination to discern the flow of the form. I then pair this with an abstracted surface pattern, a flat or undulating plane reminiscent of extreme landscapes like the surface of the moon or the barren desert.

In my new work, shaping negative space is critical. I make deep cuts in the marble, slicing the piece on a dramatic angle to leave room for the viewer's eye to fill the empty area. In Cycle for instance, a woman's back is juxtaposed against a gentle concave void, creating a geological dialogue between the substance of our bones and the frozen surface of the moon.

In the realm of marble carving, process plays a pivotal role, and my recent work represents a departure from the conventional approach. Traditionally, sculptors meticulously follow a set process, crafting a clay or plaster model before painstakingly replicating it in marble using ancient measuring techniques. While I deeply appreciate and respect this traditional method, I've realized that, at least for now, I'm not interested in copying a model into marble. Instead, I go for a more flexible, gesture-filled, and swift approach, reminiscent of my drawing technique.

Carving stone is paradoxical by nature; the overall process is slow and laborious, particularly during the meticulous sanding phase to achieve a smooth finish. However, the availability of contemporary tools like the pneumatic hammer and diamond saw blade enables me to efficiently create notable marks or remove material in a matter of seconds.

Exploring the nuances of marble, a relatively monochrome material, has heightened my awareness of the geological variations between Spanish and Italian marble. Carrara marble, with its stark white hue and silvery veining, stands in contrast to Macael marble, which exudes a warmer tone and glimmers with a higher quartz content. Unlike my previous reliance on patinas or pigments for depth in metal or resin sculptures, marble's aesthetic is shaped by the smoothness of the sanded surface, the roughness left by the chisel, or the strategic removal of material, creating compelling concave shadowscapes. This scaled-back palette allows me to revisit elemental lessons learned from the wonderful artist and my oil painting teacher, Sienna Reid. Her teachings on shape and shadow, instilled in me as a child, now prove more relevant than ever.

Finding my voice in marble is both interesting and frustrating. Moore Than Enough was started in August in the Sierra Nevada Mountains and completed recently this November in my studio in Valencia, the work reflects four months of contemplation, effort and turmoil. It underwent numerous changes in shape and form, illustrating the process of thinking through making that I've been refining. Inspired by the standing figures sculpted by the legendary Henry Moore, my figure represents an upward force—a reminder of change and motion, an invitation to be in flow and let go of things no longer serving you.

I commenced this work immediately after completing The Dissolving Ego, a self-portrait and reflection on the opportunities for transience and growth in personal identity. It serves as a reminder to be unstuck, to momentarily surrender the self and shed the baggage we carry, making room for expansion.

I am grateful for the opportunity to share a part of this journey with you. Your support and appreciation inspire me to delve deeper into the transformative power of ancient materials, thank you for being part of this exploration. Feel free to connect if you have any questions about the work or just want to catch up—I'd love to hear from you!

Warm regards,

Isotta