An insight into the Artist

The following is a question and answer session with Bill Kilpatrick.

Question: Someone told me you “disappear” and sculpt. Do you actually go somewhere and hide?

Kilpatrick: I do have a habit of disappearing and reappearing. While creating my art I personally do not relish any external influence or controls of any sort. When I sculpt I instantly construct a universe, thoroughly my own, and there I am, just me, sculpting that piece.  It’s a temporary self-imposed segregation from distractive elements.

Question: Is there a particular process you use to sculpt?

Kilpatrick: I look at what I have, I envision where I'm going with it and I form... look, envision, form.  One way or the other that's what any sculptor is doing.  As a sculptor I am presenting forms either as they actually are, possibly could be, should not be, or some variation on those themes. And while the art of sculpting is tightly connected to life and its many qualities, a sculptor envisions life beyond the physical world and then gives real-world shape, dimension, texture, substance, emotion, mood and meaning to the original raw materials.  When you get to the heart of it that's how it works and that's how I sculpt.

Question: Some sculptors have assistants who assist them in their work. Do you?

Kilpatrick: I personally perform every task up to the foundry stage where the casts are made and the fiery-hot molten bronze is poured into a porcelain mold that precisely replicates my original work. My hands and tools exclusively sculpt the original work.

Question: Did the formative years of your life lead you into becoming a sculptor?

Kilpatrick: Starting from age six I performed in many piano recitals and concerts, but dropped it when I was twelve. As a teenager I played competitive chess with an intense passion. Chess is an intellectual cousin to all the arts.  On the purely creative side of things I did many projects with paints, wood and the like.  Then during the summer that I turned 18 my father and I worked week in and week out building a cabin for his sailboat using fiberglass resin. While I adore my father I did not love working with fiberglass.  Never again.  I nearly itched the skin right off my body because those tiny fibers kept getting inside my jeans and t-shirt. Every afternoon I’d ride my bicycle to the beach and soak my entire body underwater in the ocean surf and rub salty sand all over myself until the scratchiness from that day’s sanding was gone. If you asked me at age 18 if I were an artist I would not have given you a clear-cut answer. But certain traits rang true for me at every stage of my life dating to my earliest days. I’m an extreme idealist at heart. Many artists are. The plight of most people, their confusions, and the mess of the current human condition saddens me more deeply than I could ever express.  I myself feel great.  I have a core inner certainty that is unshakable.  But I’ve never lost sight of my concern for mankind. There wasn’t a day for me as a little boy where I became distanced from my compassion for earth and its populations, the elderly, the children, the weak or the strong, the stupid, the bright, the wicked, the saintly, the pregnant, or any of the generations before and those to come. I could not and did not lose touch with any of it. I’ve always felt an unyielding urgency to not only help resolve all the issues of life and this universe but to work towards creating new universes with or without today’s rendering of thought, emotion or physical matter… as we seem to perceive it. I always wanted a playing field that would work much better for everyone. My idealism knows no limits or boundaries, but that doesn’t stop me from being practical and getting things done. As a child I considered everyone an artist of sorts. I still do. I can’t give you an exact answer of what led me to sculpt. I love sculpture. And I love to sculpt. It is a skill that I possess.

Question: Who taught you how to sculpt?

Kilpatrick: I learned every one of the techniques completely on my own.

Question: So you did not attend an Art School?

Kilpatrick: Bingo.

Question: How do you decide what to create?

Kilpatrick: My own imagination is my starting point. I tend to create sculptures in my mind as fast as the wind blows. I usually whip out various sketches of my ideas. I might do 50 or more brief sketches before deciding what to sculpt. Sketching is fast, sculpting takes substantially longer. For example, I created the conceptual sketch for the life-sized “Stephanie” in less than 30 seconds and then spent two full years sculpting it. I show my sketches to family, friends and acquaintances. I gauge their reaction. It tells me a great deal even when they try to cloak their feelings. I see things through their eyes. I sense what they sense. It enriches my own perspective and this is reflected in the works. My sketches do not contain all the details of my finished pieces. However, they definitely reveal the most vital lines, flows and shapes as well as the underlying message of a piece I’m envisioning. I know what it would feel like or act like if the piece I’m creating were alive. For me, every step in creating a sculpture is simply the persistence and the focused technique involved in bringing visions into reality. That’s the pure essence of sculpting.

Question: Why did you choose sculpting as your expression of art?

Kilpatrick: I chose sculpture because of its raw power. The intangible impact goes beyond natural forces. When a person enters a space (whether it’s a home, office, hotel, public building or outdoors such as a fountain or park), a single properly-sized well placed sculpture can potentially radiate more thoroughly than an entire room full of paintings or photographs. A picture can be pricelessly wonderful, but sculptures have a special density or mass and dimension. I have always loved sculptures, especially bronze the way it diffuses the reflection of light into so many shimmering earthen tones. The weight of bronze feels good to the hand. I like hearing soft clangs on the metal. My attraction to it seems innate. I felt that way about bronze sculptures as a boy. It’s an art form I want to touch or just be around. There’s nothing else quite like it.

End of interview.