CONSTRUCTION: TOOLS, TRADE, & ORIGIN
Sharon Arnold
January 2015
This piece is the curatorial essay from Jared Bender's 2014 exhibition, Plumb, Level, & Square which ran from December 2015-January 2016 at Bridge Productions (LxWxH).
Jared Bender’s sculpture reflects his practice as a builder and craftsman. For Plumb, Level, & Square he has made a series of free-standing and wall-based sculptures from repurposed castaways. Through the use of this process-based language he continues his exploration of the nature of manual labor and love of his medium. The hand of the artist is evident in the transformation from its raw organic shape into one that is integrated with something more sculpted, machined, or manipulated.
These objects resonate because we recognize the instruments and materials we see: a five foot long and 3 foot long plumb level made of wood, steel, and brass; two three foot long square levels made of wood and glass; a square of mahogany peg board, and a massive wooden I-beam. Three high-gloss t-shirts shellacked on the matte surface of the gallery wall represent the general uniform of a construction worker, with three “high viz” safety stripes in brass gleaming from the front of each one. These are the trappings, tools, and environs of a construction worker. The presentation is humbly understated. The result is streamline, sincere, and satisfying; like a job well done at the end of a long day.
The concepts in this exhibition aren’t just about tools and trade. Bender deftly includes the contemporary and art historical references which also inspire him, such as Donald Judd and Seattle artist Dan Webb. The visual repetition throughout the show is a nod to Minimalism - as the 2004 Guggenheim exhibition so aptly phrased it, “singular forms, sometimes repeated”; the directive to create one object and repeat it for impact appears throughout Plumb, Level, & Square. Bender’s ode to Webb and medium-focused artists like him is demonstrated through his skill, devotion, and attention to detail.
The origin of the artist’s materials are not a mystery. Though his work is exquisitely made, you know where it came from and what it used to be. The lineage is apparent: a live edge from the trunk of a tree; hand-machined brass or steel; strips of compressed fabric that used to be blue jeans; melted dark, raw wax. These pieces are made from an assortment of recycled hardwoods, beeswax, denim, brass, steel, or lead; leftovers from other projects or job sites. Their irregularities (length, shape, splits, live edges, and marks) are what guide Bender’s decisions about what they will become. In a sense, their very being and how he combines them, along with the tools he works with, are what dictate their future manifestation.
Throughout his range of mediums, Bender’s aesthetic and process are consistent. Lead blocks and broken wooden forms are cast and cut identically. Square levels are stacked atop one another, the lines of their tubes and bubbles mirroring one another. Stripes are repeated in brass across a wall, repeating the stripes of the objects across and beside them. When the imperfect parts became a whole, they create a dynamic rhythm of form and line from one corner to the next. They are perfectly balanced and imbalanced. A self-leveling field of repetition.
Jared Bender’s sculpture reflects his practice as a builder and craftsman. For Plumb, Level, & Square he has made a series of free-standing and wall-based sculptures from repurposed castaways. Through the use of this process-based language he continues his exploration of the nature of manual labor and love of his medium. The hand of the artist is evident in the transformation from its raw organic shape into one that is integrated with something more sculpted, machined, or manipulated.
These objects resonate because we recognize the instruments and materials we see: a five foot long and 3 foot long plumb level made of wood, steel, and brass; two three foot long square levels made of wood and glass; a square of mahogany peg board, and a massive wooden I-beam. Three high-gloss t-shirts shellacked on the matte surface of the gallery wall represent the general uniform of a construction worker, with three “high viz” safety stripes in brass gleaming from the front of each one. These are the trappings, tools, and environs of a construction worker. The presentation is humbly understated. The result is streamline, sincere, and satisfying; like a job well done at the end of a long day.
The concepts in this exhibition aren’t just about tools and trade. Bender deftly includes the contemporary and art historical references which also inspire him, such as Donald Judd and Seattle artist Dan Webb. The visual repetition throughout the show is a nod to Minimalism - as the 2004 Guggenheim exhibition so aptly phrased it, “singular forms, sometimes repeated”; the directive to create one object and repeat it for impact appears throughout Plumb, Level, & Square. Bender’s ode to Webb and medium-focused artists like him is demonstrated through his skill, devotion, and attention to detail.
The origin of the artist’s materials are not a mystery. Though his work is exquisitely made, you know where it came from and what it used to be. The lineage is apparent: a live edge from the trunk of a tree; hand-machined brass or steel; strips of compressed fabric that used to be blue jeans; melted dark, raw wax. These pieces are made from an assortment of recycled hardwoods, beeswax, denim, brass, steel, or lead; leftovers from other projects or job sites. Their irregularities (length, shape, splits, live edges, and marks) are what guide Bender’s decisions about what they will become. In a sense, their very being and how he combines them, along with the tools he works with, are what dictate their future manifestation.
Throughout his range of mediums, Bender’s aesthetic and process are consistent. Lead blocks and broken wooden forms are cast and cut identically. Square levels are stacked atop one another, the lines of their tubes and bubbles mirroring one another. Stripes are repeated in brass across a wall, repeating the stripes of the objects across and beside them. When the imperfect parts became a whole, they create a dynamic rhythm of form and line from one corner to the next. They are perfectly balanced and imbalanced. A self-leveling field of repetition.