Sharing my passions, as I manipulated a variety of materials. Some people have called it art. It has also been a form of worship, and almost always has been the greatest fun.

Sunday, September 8, 2013

The Saga of Three Young Texans


"Three Young Texans" by Russell Cushman

A few years ago Hurricane Ike roared through the Gulf Coast and devastated many homes. It spread destruction and heartbreak all around Baytown, Texas, and yet in the process, brought me and an old customer back together... and an important reminder.


A Saga of Three Young Texans

 Jan only had a few hours to make critical choices about what would go and what would stay. Another terrible Texas hurricane was on the way, and after the destruction from hurricanes Katrina and Rita the year before, she and her husband decided not to weather the storm, but vacate and take what they could with them. Only so much would be able to go. She snatched up those essential things that occurred to her and stuffed her car full. Then she looked on the wall at one of her prized possessions. A large picture with a mammoth rustic frame pleaded for passage. It was a print of a little girl playing with her kitten and ragdoll, deep in pioneer Texas Hill Country. The little girl’s eyes had always had a soulful appeal to her, and now more than ever.

She took the large limited edition art piece down and rushed around looking of a place that might hold it above flood level, somewhere where the “Three Young Texans” might survive, in case of a direct hit. She had owned and loved her signed copy of my watercolor for nearly thirty years, and the babies in the painting were like her children. They had to be saved. Desperately, she placed them on her bed, right where she normally slept, and covered them with blankets, pillows, anything that might protect them. Then it was time to go. She took one last look at her home, and they rushed away.

The storm did hit, with devastating force. Jan told herself, “We are alive, and that is all that matters,” but as they returned to their home days later, the heartbreak began to unveil itself, one painful loss after another. Some of the house was still intact, but in her bedroom, was a giant oak tree. A limb had thrust right through the picture, shattering the glass, and damaging the print beyond repair. Strangely, the frame was almost unscratched. She told herself it was a minor loss, compared to what might have happened to them if they had hunkered down during the storm, and she had been laying there instead of the picture. Pictures can be replaced. It was as if the Three Young Texans had died in her place.

She did not have the heart to throw the image away, even after the insurance had been collected and their life had been reconstructed. She began to look on the Internet for me, to see if I was still around. She found some leads, but they never lead to the artist himself. As with much of the information on the Internet, it was mostly obsolete. It was obvious the artist was still active by all the listings, but she could find no website. Months passed, and occasionally she would do a search. Nothing new popped up. She began to think about giving up, and settling for something else. But she knew that nothing else would do. These were her babies for thirty years…

I painted Three Young Texans in 1979, while Linda and I were living in Altair, Texas. This watercolor was one of my very first “major pieces.” Because the model for the painting was our niece Jennifer, Linda requisitioned the painting almost immediately. Jan purchased a framed print of Three Young Texans from me during theTexas Renaissance Festival during the fall of 1980.

Thirty years later, I had let my website go into Internet oblivion.  But in the spring I taught an outdoor painting workshop, where one of my students directed me to a website company that soon solved my website deficiency.

Almost immediately Jan found me. Relieved and grateful, after months of searching and losing hope, she told her story. And I had great news for her, because we had kept the painting all these years. I had no extra copies of Three Young Texans… but I could make a giclee for her from the original watercolor. Her search for her babies was over.

She told me about the symbolism in the painting, which had so much meaning to her. Her mother had grown up in a central Texas cotton farm, and had a little ragdoll just like the girl’s in the watercolor. She explained how the little girl’s eyes spoke to her… And how she felt as if the Three Young Texans had taken her place.

The hurricane took away an old faded photograph, and God saw to it, in His time, that it was restored better than new.

It was such a long shot, after such a brutal attack from the forces of Nature, that most people would have given in from the sheer time and impossible odds and the tragedy that had unfolded. They would have bought something else and gone on. But Jan proved something special beyond personal taste or materialism. She illustrated the power of art.

 


 

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

My New Sculpture!


My sculpture of Frank Hamer for the City of Navasota was the awesome pinnacle of my art career. And it has taken awhile to come down to earth afterwards.  

It was such a strong concept  I cast the maquette as well, which I call "Texas Town Tamer."

Texas Town Tamer. You can read all about Frank Hamer in my other blog : russellcushman.blogspot.com



It is great, stalwart Americans like Frank that inspire me. This original bronze of Ranger Frank Hamer is TWENTY-FIVE inches tall. Not including the thick, cedar wood base.



Once the City Marshal of Navasota, Ranger Hamer looks good checking out Cedar Creek, where the real-life Frank Hamer used to cross every day on his rounds.


 Right now the sculpture can be viewed at:
 
Texas Ranger Hall of Fame, gift shop in Waco, Texas
 
 THE FRENCH MARKET,  at Tokoly Consignments, in Navasota, Texas 

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Cushman OUTDOOR WORKSHOP!

Brazos Buffalo Blues
Yep, it's that time of year again... the bluebonnets are already popping... it will soon be time to get out and stir up some dust and paint our fabulous Texas wildflowers...

I will be giving a demonstration in Rosenberg on March 28 and then teaching a two day workshop following the demo in Washington County. Anybody interested needs to contact me and we will see if there is room. If not we will schedule another one!

Sunday, March 10, 2013

The most important commission of my life...

Maybe for my WHOLE life...


The Frank Hamer monument commission was big in my world... perhaps the biggest deal of my career.  My father knew him, so I grew up with stories about him. I knew a man who even named HIMSELF after this man. He is considered one of the greatest Texas Rangers of all time. He almost single-handedly stopped a decade of racial violence in Navasota, and is credited with "taming the town."  And a commission to sculpt him,  just blocks away from where I sleep every night... And a place I will drive by several times every day... That's importnat.



One of my personal heroes, A true Texas hero, standing tall in front of a re-creation, if you will, of the City Hall from which he made history... a new City Hall that I helped to conceive... in my hometown...a landmark for now until...?

That's important.



I made him with a great deal in mind... my personal feelings aside, to honor all of our wonderful lawmen... public servants... the men like our gallant firemen, EMT's, regular folks who help and protect us every day. The ordinary people who regularly do extraordinary things. And that was important. The most important.



And I was so honored that they seemed as thrilled about the statue as I was. They get it. They understand, maybe better than any of us what the statue can represent.


Local lawmen join me in celebrating the Hamer monument.
 
So by the end of the Dedication... which I blogged about in the Navasota Current,  I was drunk with personal fullfilment...  probably unable to fully appreciate the honor of posing with these wonderful men. Still I lost it and cried when the Navasota Policemen lined up together with the Police Chief to get their photo with the new landmark.
 
 After all, it was for them as much as anyone, and the monument will always be a testimony of our esteem for them and what they do every day.  
 
A short video made by Chuck McCarroll about the dedication...
 
 

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Finishing touches on the Frank Hamer bronze

I know many of you have been following the progress... so you deserve a peek.
Here the sculpture gets a few last details worked out. Omega bronze of Smithville, Texas has done an outstanding job.. and finished early and within budget... all a first for me. We will bring the bronze home soon.

Next, the final patina will be applied... and it's done.
And then INSTALLATION!

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

The Frank Hamer Monument is in Pieces!

And that is a good thing. Here is the progress made on the sculpture in the past few weeks... As you will see, the bronze casting process is a hard, dangerous, hot, and demanding craft.

Here are some of the wax pieces of the sculpture, made from the rubber molds.
The hands have been faithfully reproduced in wax, and are now hollow. The red stands are actually forms for the funnels that the bronze will eventually pour through.
The waxes pieces are dipped in alternate layers of ceramic and sand until there is a thick mold encrusted on them.
Frank's head.
The ceramic molds are fired to melt out the wax, and then later heated right before the bronze is poured. This makes everything compatible. You can't pour molten bronze into a cold mold.
The foundryman is wanting everything, the bronze, the molds, to be around 1600 degrees.
A special thermometer is used to monitor the heat.
Stephen Zabel, owner of Omega Bronze,  fetches the HOT molds from the oven...
The fired molds are placed in a sand box to hold them in place for pouring. Now everything is ready!
Easy does it... One drop could burn right through a foot...
Cast in three pieces, the base with the feet has been reassembled.
Here the torso is being artistically finished, the seams between the pieces "chased" and the texture that was lost in the process re-established with the skills of an experienced sculptor.

It wont be long! The dedication of the monument has been set for March 2nd!

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Words to live by...

May, 2000. Last minute details at the foundry get ironed out before the installation of a major bronze grouping in Bryan. I am stooping with pain from a serious back injury just inflicted while lifting the bronze girl. I spent months in rehab, and then the insurance refused to pay for any of it, making me swear off any more sculpture jobs... But the entrepreneurial, creative spirit is hard to kill.
Years ago, while visiting with a Tom Maynard, a local banker, I noticed a quotation under the glass of his desk top. After reading it, and loving it, he offered to make a copy of it for me, as I was sure I would not remember the name of the writer or be able to find the quote again. That was before the Internet. I was thrilled to find someone, who was respected, had already described my attitude to a T, and I have kept that scrap of paper for years...

I do not choose to be a common man. It is my right to be uncommon if I can. I seek opportunity – not security. I will refuse to be a kept citizen, to be humbled and dulled by having my state and nation look after me. I want to dream and to build, to fail and to succeed – never to be numbered among those week and timid souls who have known neither victory nor defeat. I know that happiness can come only from the inside through hard constructive work and sincere positive thinking. I know that the so-called pleasures of the moment should not be confused with a state of happiness. I know that I can get a measure of inner satisfaction from any job if I intelligently plan and courageously execute it. I know that, if I put forth every iota of strength that I possess – physical, mental, spiritual – toward the accomplishment of a worthwhile task, ere I fall exhausted by the wayside, the Unseen Hand will reach out and pull me through. Yes, I want to live dangerously, plan my procedures on the basis of calculated risks, to resolve the problems of everyday living unto a measure of inner peace. I know if I know how to do all this, I will know how to live, and if I know how to live, I will know how to die.
H. B. Zachry