What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggles to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?
“Ode to a Grecian Urn” - John Keats

Collene Karcher’s studio is located on North Beta Road approximately two miles out of Sylva. In a section that was once a farming community, the land retains a rural character: well-tended gardens, farm houses and small orchards face a road that gradually ascends toward the Balsam mountains. It is quiet here, and the morning fog lingers.

Collene’s garden is impressive. Trellised roses, ranks of thriving raspberries, corn, beans, potatoes amid generous borders of basil, thyme and chives. Here, amid these orderly, thriving plants, the first faces appear ... smiling maenads peep through a cluster of daisies, a green man, his face festooned with oak leaves, laughs at the sun, and a bare-breasted woman rises above a mound of marigolds as though she had just awakened.

I asked about the figures in the garden.

“I like to create beings that are compatible with nature,” says Collene. “Either they are here because of vegetation, or the vegetation is here because of them. They compliment each other.”

However, visitors quickly discover that Collene is not in the business of creating cute pixies, toad stools and garden trolls. The beings that populate Collene’s garden are more substantial and their expressions have nothing to do with simpering elves. Some are wild-eyed, intimidating; others appear enraptured or awakening from a dream.

“I like to think that they are symbols,” said Collene. “They have to do with regeneration, rebirth and fertility. They aren’t always orderly, civilized or polite. Some are even dangerous.”

The studio is located in a sturdy, century-old barn that once sheltered horses and mules. The interior still retains much of its character with wall-mounted mangers, farm implements and old canning jars.

“I found this place 14 years ago, and I knew immediately that it was my studio, so I bought it. John, my husband, is wonderfully supportive,” Collene said.

“Together, we have converted the barn into a studio. My parents live in the farmhouse across the road. We have everything we want.”

I asked about children, and Collene pointed at the sculptures around her.

“These are my children. I knew I couldn’t have it both ways, so I made a choice. My love and nurturing has gone into them.”

The figures stand, soar upwards, ablaze in light - large slabs of marble, transported from Arizona and Italy. They occupy former stalls and work rooms. A dozen works are “in media res” - smooth flesh emerging from rough stone. Tinged with pink, blue, gray and white, these figures here are more imposing and complex than the works in the garden.

“At any given time, I may be working on three sculptures, all in various states of development.” My fingers touch features emerging from stone like bodies rising from water.

“I’ve tried other mediums,” said Collene. “Painting and wood carving, for example. However, I prefer marble. Perhaps, it is because stone endures; it gives the illusion of immortality.”

There are massive figures that appear to be in transition, a kind of frozen metamorphosis - flesh becoming feathers, hair writhing into snakes, feathers or scales emerging from skin, male blended with female. Some of the most ponderous pieces are suspended on grids or transfixed by steel supports.

Floating in these metal cradles, massive torsos seem to be striving to rise above the limitations imposed on flesh by gravity or mortality. Vegetation - flowers and vines - emerge from the mouths and exposed hearts of angelic/demonic beings. Some pieces are fragmented by design, giving the appearance of being the shattered remains of colossal figures. One large piece captures a portion of a serene, dreaming face. Resting on the studio floor, it resembles an artifact unearthed by archeologists - a shard from a lost world.

I asked about the mythical themes in her sculptures.

“I’m definitely influenced by mythology,” Collene admits. “Greek, Irish, Germanic, Oriental. But I tend to blend imagery, combine all of it with something of my own. I’m not interested in imitating existing concepts. Maybe I am trying to create images that embody all of the others - Jungian archetypes.”

I asked Collene how she worked. Did she require silence, privacy, isolation?

“Privacy, yes, but I like music,” she said, a laugh coming with the words. “I begin with rock and roll. When I’m roughing out a piece, I like rhythm with energy. I spend weeks on some of these pieces, even months. I work all day, and sometimes all night, so the music helps. Sometimes, it is moody jazz - Nina Simone, Ela Fitzgerald. However, in the final stages, I like classical music. Chopin, Beethoven and Motzart.”

Is it hard work?

“You betcha! My sculpting hammer weighs 4 pounds. These pieces frequently weigh over a ton. It is a major undertaking to get the marble to the studio, and I move stuff with a block and tackle. I am 37 years old and there is nothing sissy about being a sculptor. You have to be in good shape,” she said.

Does the work find a market?

“Oh, yes. I have a website now, and a recent piece in Southern Living was a big help. People are calling for appointments. I’ll tell you the truth though. I would do this if I never sold anything. It certainly helps to have an audience and people who want to own something that I created. I do comissioned work,” Karcher said. “I’ve done commerative work, accent pieces, figures designed for specific sites, and sculptures to be exhibited in gardens or living rooms. Occasionally, I use other mediums - bronze and wood. I am especially interested in making composites - works composed of mediums not normally found together. Sometimes, I make unlikely objects a part of a sculpture, like birdhouses, a bee-hive or found objects, for example. But, I honestly believe I would go on designing and sculpting, even if I never sold another piece.”

Why?

“Well, it gives me something to do while I’m here. I mean, it is gratifying to create something - a poem, a painting or a sculpture - that did not exist before the artist gave it form. Even, if the world ends, I’d like to think that something that I carved is buried somewhere, just waiting for someone to unearth it.”

What dooes a Karcher sculpture cost?

“The carved pieces run anywhere from $400 to $25,000. Some of the large pieces take from six months to a year to complete. I also do casting, of course, many of them ‘accept pieces’ for the garden, and they cost anywhere from $40 to $400.”

Karcher began her career studying at the Rhode Island School of Design. She received her bachelor’s degree while apprenticing under master stonecarver Geroge Wagner at the Florida Gulf Coast Art Institute. In addition, she has participated in restoration work on the Michigan and Ohio state capital buildings. Her work is exhibited throughout the Southeast.

(The Karcher Studio may be reached at the following addresses: collenekarcher@earthlink.net, www.collenekarcher.com, 260 North Beta Road Sylva, N.C., 28779.)

 

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