Enjoy the amazing sculpture of talented artist Angela Treat Lyon, and visit her website for more information.
I make art because I must. It’s a core compulsion. If too much time goes by without my creating something – through artful living (whether it’s a website, a print or e-book, a garden or a dinner) or outright artwork like a painting or stone sculpture, I get The Itch I Can’t Scratch. It doesn’t go away until I’ve created something – and it has to be something that pleases me.
I believe that works of art are the tracks of our consciousness across time and space. Look at the mystery of the artwork left in places like Gobekli Tepe, Puma Puncu – made with technology far beyond ours; the Nazca designs – only comprehensible if viewed by air.
Who made them? Why? What were they like? Were the makers even human? Art outlasted them, as art outlasts us and tells our story.
That’s why I carve stone. It will remain longer than any works done with electronic collection of data, on canvas, paper, ink or paint.
I love all kinds of stone; I love the way each stone is an individual, with its own characteristics. I love the feel of the chisel as I carve, the way the stone says yes! and carries my message, or even when it says no way, uh-uh, I’m cracking apart.
I prefer to create stylized figures. I leave the rigors of ‘correct’ anatomical proportion to those who are good at it. Instead, through outsized hands and exaggerated gesture, my work speaks the rich emotions that flow through us every day.
Those feelings and emotions that run across our faces and through our bodies are the very reflection of who we are and how we feel as we go about doing what we do.
Any human with a shred of empathy can look at a sculpture’s smiling face and know how that smile feels. Anyone can feel the ache in a longing expression carved in stone.
When viewers see/feel emotions on a carved face or the energy of a body in movement, they’re intimately connected to us, in our era, in our humanity – whether viewed in our own time or thousands of years in the future, whether war or peace rages the land.
They know how we feel, what we experienced, how we suffered, exulted, thrilled, celebrated or simply enjoyed our lives.
There are so many long-lasting works that tell the story of Man against Man – imposing architecture, mosaics, murals and statues of triumphant men on prancing horses capturing slaves and women, people torturing or murdering people, animals and cultures. Why would I want to portray more horror?
Instead, I choose to tell the story of the celebration of living. The artifacts that we, as artists, create and leave behind us are the tracks our lives make upon the world.
I want to leave tracks of honey.