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Look for Eric at future events.

Telephone: (718) 282-9023
E-mail: epesso@gmail.com

Website: http://eric.pesso.brooklynartist.com

Born and raised in Brooklyn, I can say the same for my work. With minor exceptions, every one of my pieces was originally an oak, maple, sycamore, ash, or other species growing in Prospect Park or on the streets of Brooklyn, cut down for one reason or another, removed with the blessing of the Parks Department, and recycled, arguably, into a work of art.

Simply put, my goal is to create beautiful objects. There is no social or political content to the work, no attempt to plumb the depths of the human condition. There is just an attempt to actualize abstract ideas as elegantly as I can, combined with a painstaking adherence to the craft of wood carving. For reasons that I don't fully understand, I place certain restrictions upon myself. Perhaps it is some irrational purist streak in me, but each piece, no matter how large or complex, is carved from a single log, almost exclusively by hand, with chisel, mallet, rasp, and scraper. (I am not a complete purist; I admit having used a chainsaw for some of the initial rough cuts on the larger pieces). I have occasionally entertained, but always rejected, the thought of constructing a sculpture from more than one piece of wood. It's as if to say, "Here is this solid hunk of organic mass, these are my boundaries, what's the best I can do with it?" For the same reason, I avoid logs with unusual shapes which might suggest the sculpture within, preferring the blank canvas of simple, straight-grained, unblemished sections of a tree.

The pieces themselves are intentionally not named, except to place them chronologically in their various categories (Surfaces, Lines in Space, etc.). In the past, especially for a show, I have occasionally named my work but have always felt a little uncomfortable about it, even a little pretentious. To me they have no names. They simply are what they are and nothing more.

My work process begins by making a very simple, rough model in either clay or wire to be used as a guide in the initial rough carving. Next I select a log whose shape and size roughly correspond to the model. The model is discarded as soon as I can visualize the emerging sculpture, after which I continue carving and shaping totally freeform. It is here that those small but critical decisions are made which can transform a flat piece into one with life and vibrancy. Hard edges or soft, concave or convex, twist the line or not, open up a new hole to expose the opposite side or keep it closed?

It is perhaps not surprising that my background is not in art but rather in mathematics. I have achieved the level of Master of Science and to this date make my living in the related field of computer programming. I am intrigued by symmetry and geometry, and much of my work reflects that sensibility, even if I also occasionally delve into the mystery of the female form. There is a beauty and elegance in mathematics that is often overlooked. To a large degree my work can be viewed as an attempt to give it its due.

In contrast, my formal art training is practically nonexistent. From childhood through my late 20's, I had little interest in art at all, much less in creating it. It was only in the mid 1970s, after being mesmerized at the Chicago Art Institute by an incredibly graceful bronze by Jose de Rivera and a fascinating plastic and string piece by Naum Gabo, that a desire to create something with my hands took hold of me. I started with simple geometric string designs and cardboard cutouts, but soon felt the desire to work in three dimensions. I took one general sculpture class at Brooklyn College and two others at the Brooklyn Museum Art School, one in clay modeling and another in carving. I was fortunate to have taken the carving class with master stone and wood carver Masami Kodama, who took me under his wing, invited me to work in his studio for two years, and taught me everything I know about wood, tools, and the techniques of carving. I am forever grateful to him.

For various reasons, by the late 1970s I stopped carving almost entirely. It was only in the late 1990s, after an interruption of 20 years, that the need to carve again returned. I have been carving ever since and plan to do so for as long as I have the strength.

Lines in Space #1

Lines in Space #2

Lines in Space #3

Lines in Space #4

In The Round #1

In The Round #2

Surfaces #1

Surfaces #2

Surfaces #3

Me and a couple of pals