Bio and images
Hank Adams has been widely recognized for his oversize
figurative busts, but since his student days he has also been
drawn to large scale modular works. Process-oriented
"events," as he has recently called them, engaged him
entirely during his fall 2001 residency at the Creative Glass
Center of America. This manifestation of Adams' current
thinking about glass is most likely his direction for the
immediate future.
The two bodies of work at first glance appear to be
antithetical; however, links in methodology and meaning
become strikingly apparent upon consideration. Adams'
extended family of sand cast heads is heroic in scale but
anti-heroic in character. Each borders on caricature, with a
demeanor which he proposes is "an asking, an invitation."
They gnash greenish copper teeth in vague timorous smiles as
their copper-rimmed eyes pop from deep sockets with dazed
alertness. Wire hair sprouts with insane energy from the
scalps of these personalities. Adam's occasional use of
brilliant color and his rough yet deft amalgamation of shapes
and non-glass materials are humorous, disturbing and
insidiously charming. "That's what I love about portraiture,
the line between humor and tragedy," he's said, as he
describes these contemporary lost souls as "just part of the
clan on the planet."
The quintessential human blend of the pathetic and the
ridiculous in these portraits tends to overshadow Adams'
masterful command of sand casting. His integration of
decorative patterning and non glass materials makes the
sculptures seem effortless, almost thrown away. Their
granular skin has an organic irregularity that, as a gesture
of the maker, mirrors the accidents of nature. Adams is
almost obsessed with our increasing estrangement from nature.
"Technology has removed us from touch with the earth. As a
piece of nature, we can't absorb technological change as
quickly as it has come. We may not survive to use new
technologies," he fears.
Turning away from representation, but still utilizing his
skills of sand casting and integrating materials, Adams' work
at CGCA emerges as a pure meditation on issues of humanity,
nature and the ineffable. From the busts to the current
field/grid based work, he has improvised with great
imagination on a simple material fact: copper and glass
expand and contract at about the same rate. You can put a
piece of copper into a glob of melted glass and the glass
will accept the copper; It won't shatter as it cools. He also
often integrates elements made of plaster or other materials
with glass through embedded copper links. He casts myriad
half spheres or other shapes from which copper wires and
odd-shaped bits extend. He later manipulates the copper to
attach these modules to one another or to form ornamental
flourishes.
At CGCA, Adams and a team of three tireless and enthusiastic
student assistants made large fabrics composed of numerous
individually cast pieces of glass joined by threads or
ribbons of copper wire. Adams conceived the first of these
structures of wire and glass as a pedagogical experiment.
Casting a sequence of linked molds demands smooth teamwork
with few time-outs and none once the pour of hot glass
begins. "I'm pushing [my assistants] hard now, five days a
week and we'll see what happens," Adams said about half way
through his residency.
A "Floor event" is a performance which even if unwitnessed
must be recognized as one manifestation of the work of art.
The casts are made directly on the cement floor of the hot
shop. A colony of giant ant hill mounds of damp bentonite and
sand are arranged in a grid. A wooden or metal form from
Adams' large collection is pressed into each hill and removed
leaving a hollow for casting. The hills now resemble a
monster muffin tin. Next copper wire is placed to connect
each mold to others. "You have to teach people how to move
their fingers to make objects," Adams commented regarding
this procedure. "People are dying to learn to do this."
Whether the pattern of connections is mostly rectilinear or
mostly diagonal or both, it reflects a grid. The essence of
this pattern and its variations is so deeply embedded in the
nature of human perception that it resonates throughout the
history of art and of the grapholect. Not just in western art
and writing, but in art production across time and culture,
the grid is an organizing model, as well as a primary model
of organization.
After the sand molds are connected by properly placed copper,
each is filled with hot glass. At CGCA Adams used clear or
lightly tinted glass. In the past, he has also combined cast
plaster nexuses with the glass and copper. The first poured
glass cannot cool too much before the whole work is placed in
the annealing oven. When all the molds are filled, the entire
fabric of still soft glass and metal is gently rolled up like
a carpet on the floor and carried to the annealing oven to
cool slowly.
So far, Adams' most ambitious accomplishment utilizing this
process is a huge metal Spool (77" in diameter) wound with a
30" wide fabric of cast glass disks and copper wire
constructed with a group of 20 student volunteers at the
Blenko Glass Factory over a 24 hour period.
One wonderful thing about Adams' glass and copper grids is
that they are imperfect and, yet, they are whole or at least
function as a whole (A similar observation could be made
about his portrait subjects: they are damaged but still
functional). The unrolling of the cooled work sometimes
reveals broken threads or even a shattered piece of glass.
Always the material shows the effects of rough treatment. It
is no pristine mathematical grid. It is natural. Displayed on
a wall, these "Floor events" cast interesting shadows. Each
line records a material history one in which chance has
played its role. Are they reliefs or perhaps paintings? Adams
studied painting in art school.
Certainly, these works hark back to the action painting of
mid-twentieth century, as well as to process art of the
1980's. In glass terms, Adams believes, "The glass movement
as we've known it is over. Now, it's just a material. I'm
proud of having grown up through this process training, this
hands-on experience and knowledge of the natural world."
In their ability to transcend not just the vessel tradition
but a puffed-up self-consciousness about making art from the
dazzling and difficult material glass, these works are
ultra-sophisticated. They address the nature of objects and
relationships and the motive force of communication and art.
They don't offer an answer so much as an opportunity to step
back and regard the phenomenon of systems: natural and made.
They remind us that beauty resides in the intersection
between accident and intention. It literally lurks in every
corner, ready to surprise us if we look for it.