Sculptor Barry Eisenhart

Circular openings and intertwining curves recur for me as a sculptor. It's as I create these gently curving forms that the negative spaces reveal themselves -- they are openings, portals and, metaphorically for me, the initial phases of life. The intertwining forms become the journey. Apparently this is why I tend to work from the center out. I feel a surge of energy working directly with my hands, holding the piece and manipulating wax or clay with my fingers.

Nature has sculpted us. Evolution -- of the natural world, of human culture -- continues to sculpt us and everything that surrounds us. We are in the physical present, but only through change and adaptation. I want to mimic this process, and to do so I must stop it in its tracks. Despite this inexorable push of evolution, I am often struck by the ways in which the primitive and the modern are alike.

I see the imagery that inspires me -- nature and the arc of life --in the sea, in a nautilus shell with its twisting rings. And in a human figure, similarly arched, wringing its hair. Or in a figure as a reclining form, a mountainous silhouette. No matter the form or figure I am sculpting, I am experiencing a common language.

Perhaps I am creating my own mythology, attempting to make sense of things by expressing my own desire for connection to the larger world. I invite those who experience my art to find something of themselves in my pieces.

"I found a seashell in New Zealand that inspired me to create a four-foot-tall, organic sculpture. I was intrigued by the sensual, curved shape of the vulnerable inner workings of the shell. It’s been interesting to observe the different ways people see it or even identify what it is.”