SFArtsED is thrilled to present Harriet Heyman: Figuratively Speaking. Featuring several never-before seen works, the exhibition continues the artist’s investigations of human and animal forms. From contemplation to play, figures are caught in their act, frozen moments in time rendered through the ancient lost-wax technique of casting bronze.

Proceeds benefit SFArtsED music and arts programs in all San Francisco schools.

image:
Harriet Heyman, Caryatid on Break. 
photo by John Carr

About Harriet Heyman:

Harriet Heyman turned to sculpture after spending many years as a writer. Her book “Private Acts: The Acrobat Sublime” (Rizzoli) focused on the art of acrobatics as a metaphor for work and the creative process.  This exploration fired her obsession with form and figurative sculpture enhanced by studies with teachers from the Royal Drawing School in London.

“I want gesture, movement, a sense of vitality. To me, the most satisfying pieces are those that look rough, as if just quickened from raw material. Capturing the energy of a moment takes me weeks or months.  I work in clay, wax and plastiline. These days, my pieces are larger, the modeling equivalent of using more canvas and bigger brushes. When my work is finished and the piece cast, I want the bronze to be textural and active—to dance in the play of light.”

Years ago a pair of capybaras at the San Francisco Zoo caught my attention. They looked like two barrels, with stubby feet and a blocky trapezoidal head. They didn’t do much.  But I was drawn to their shape. I squirreled it away for another day.

The idea re-emerged four years ago. In clay I modeled small capybaras. I played. I exaggerated. Webbed feet and claws grew more prominent. The head acquired finer features. The hind end expanded into stately proportions that reminded me of my dad’s 1947 Dodge. In the much larger version in this film, the most difficult part was the texture. The creature  had to look as if it had just come out of the river, water sluicing down channels in its fur.

Today the capybara watches over a spiky succulent garden in front of our house. I can’t wait to see torrents of rain spilling  down its broad back.