ABOUT
Rick and his longtime friend & mentor John Michel
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Since I was a small boy I was intrigued with using my hands to build things. Art never entered my mind, then it was scooters, from steel-wheeled skates with boards attached to them. We use cloth pins and playing cards attached to our bicycle wheel spokes to make a great sound going down the road, the more the merrier. I had no internet for inspiration as to what was currently COOL. I always watched my older brother as he seemed cool to me (don't they all). We made boats to play with on the beach and later skim boards to slide across the wet sand at effortless speeds. I knew all the kids didn't do what I was doing but I never thought I was special. My father wasn't a maker, he had the minimum tools, and the cheaper the better. It took years of hardness and pain to figure out why it was easier with the right tool….it still does, and yes you can have too many tools. After many years of trying out the latest gadgets I finally learned that the simple non-powered tools are the best, maybe not the fastest, but still the best. Speed is not always your best friend when you're creating.
Rick in his last race...when 130mph isn't fast enough!
32
The number 32 recurs in my artwork frequently and people ask why? It's the only number that shook my total being. I was in art school from 1966 to 1970 - I was walking down the hallway one morning and saw a group of guys studying the newspaper, and that was odd because most artist types are impervious to current news their in their own little world. As I walked up to see what was happening one asked me my birthday...April 1st, then he hunted it out on this random chart of numbers....it fell on 32...then he said you're headed to war in Viet Nam. I was totally shocked, to say the least. The Lottery had struck me without any warning. I then knew that when I graduated I would be sought out to join the military. I had already had friends die there. There's a lot more to the story but it all boils down to 32. As time went by my machinery sculpture always appealed to me as a group in other words. I could not see only one of the objects I made but a row, kinda like a row of fighter jets - much more impressive and each one had its ID number...so the 32 bounced back in my head it was MY number back in the 60s Lottery. I also feel this affinity to racing vehicles, which also have a number on them to tell them apart. Men my age always ask as they get to know one another "what was your number". This question never needed an explanation as they always knew automatically what the other guy was asking.
Rick with a mosaic sculpture
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This site contains mostly my most recent, if you call forty years recent, works that were worthy of posting. There are many more that never made it and were cannibalized or just thrown away. In my first year at formal art school in 1967 we were told to throw away everything we had created, it seemed weird then but looking back they were right, in the beginning you were experimenting with techniques and methods and materials not at all knowing how to master any of them. It takes lots of time and effort. Lots of "would-be artist" give up, usually when it gets hard and there's pain and a little blood involved. We thought that you had to be tough mentally and physically to become a successful artist and I don't mean financially successful, I still don't know how to do that. I also still believe in GOOD art and BAD art....and I really believe most people do but kindness, politeness, political correctness, etc get in the way. Most of what I see today classified as art wouldn't even be looked at by my professors back in art school, and I'm being kind.
