|
june
:08 | buy local

And Now For
Something Completely Different

By Ginny Janzen
“Retiring
can be traumatic,” shared Forrest Greenslade.“ In one day you go from
making important decisions, having your name known, being invited to all
the big meetings, and having authority and influence, to having all that gone. In one day. A
lot of people don’t survive it. A post-retirement career is the best
health change you can make. You have to find something you are passionate
about and study, study, study, so that you can become the best you can be
at it.”
Greenslade is one of a
growing community in
Chatham
County
of artists who are defined less by the successful careers they have retired
from than by the new careers they have retired to.
Educated as a
molecular biologist, Greenslade has become the best he can be at many
things. Drawing from his career experiences, he wrote a successful book
called The Simple-Minded Manager: Cutting Through Your Work-Life Chaos.
After stints with Johnson & Johnson, Pfizer and the Population
Council, Greenslade moved to
North
Carolina
to head Ipas, a women’s health
organization. Shortly after retiring from that position, Greenslade
suffered a massive heart attack. That event caused him to take a new look
at what he was doing.
“One day my wife
dragged me to a studio tour here [in
Chatham
County
].
For the first time I was receptive to seeing things differently.”
Greenslade was taken
with some of the whimsical wooden sculptures he saw on the tour. He and
his wife returned home and while eating lunch, he saw Martha Stewart on TV
making a garden pot out of cement and peat moss.
“I didn’t even
finish my sandwich. I went out back to my shed and made a face out of
cement and peat moss.”
And the next phase of
Greenslade’s career was born. Kimberli Matin, an acquaintance of
Greenslade’s, was starting a gallery. She liked his work and asked him
to make more of it to sell in her gallery.
“In one day I was a
professional sculptor,’’ he said
Greenslade’s garden
at his home in
Fearrington
Village
is a beautifully designed and maintained showplace for his garden
sculptures. Most of his work is created from a combination of concrete and
other materials. His biggest sellers are a series of spirits carved into
wooden posts. Time Lapse is a stacked series of blue birds created from
angle iron and concrete and welded to a twisting piece of pipe, creating
the image of a bird rising into flight. Greenslade used a chopstick
sharpened in a pencil sharpener to carve the concrete to suggest the form
and feathers of the bird, resulting in a finish that looks like weathered
wood. In other sculptures he used a slurry of burlap in a cement mixture
to create the look of fabric.

A series of blue steel
and concrete bird sculptures called Benu, after an Egyptian version of the
phoenix, graces the grounds.
“It’s a marriage
of metal and concrete,” says Greenslade. With metal you can’t get the
facial expressions and with concrete you can’t get the delicate things
like wings, feathers, grass. I try to portray motion and emotion.”
Greenslade
has not finished becoming the best he can be. Not only does he sculpt, he
writes poetry, and he is now portraying motion and emotion through
painting. He and his wife welcome visitors to their home, where he does
most of his sales now. Visitors there will be entertained by the names he
gives his pieces: a frog with his chin resting on his hand is Re-thinker;
the Rebird series is birds made of rebar; a pair of egrets are Greater and
Lesser Regret; a pair of penguins are Aunt Arctica and Gil Opogos. Others
include Not Quite First in Flight, Run Forrest Dweller Run and 50
Ways to Leaf Your Lover.
Greenslade’s
favorite piece, Savannah Surprise, is a bifurcated wood structure with two
painted concrete giraffe heads. He left the bark on the original wood and
painted it with artists’ acrylics. Over time the bark has begun to
exfoliate and the paint has faded. The surprised looks on the giraffes’
faces now blend in with the browns and grays of the garden much more than
when they were originally painted with bright colors.
“I may
repaint them with exterior house paint, which is designed to hold up to
the sun. But sometimes you want things to change. When you look at this
you are experiencing time. How long will it last? How has it changed?
You’re looking at a snapshot in time. It’s about the vulnerability and
the ephemeral nature of art, of us. Some people get it; others want things
to stay the same. My work all comes with a lifetime guarantee, with one
caveat — it’s my lifetime and I’m an old guy.”
Doug Trimble is another retired executive who
appreciates the nature of change. In high school he was offered an art
scholarship, but after finding out that what he could expect to earn as an
artist was equivalent to two part-time jobs, he turned the scholarship
down and got a degree in Business Management. Trimble spent 30 years as a
manager in the telecommunications industry for Nortel before retiring to
North Carolina
to be near his sons. At his home in the Governor’s Club, he now indulges
his creative passion —furniturebuilding
Trimble’s motto is, “It’s all in the curves.”
His furniture features asymmetrical shapes and sinuous grains. Many of his
pieces are on display in his home. Both inside and outside the house there
are bowls of plants atop beautiful three-legged wooden stands.
“A woodworker never wants to give up any piece of
wood, OK?” said Trimble, in his Canadian accent. “So I make plant
stands out of the scraps.”
In Trimble’s bedroom there is a small, graceful
table with bowed legs.
“I made it out of 2 x 4’s as an experiment in
design, ground the legs into curves, then fauxed the color with mixed
dyes. I keep it around to remind myself that there’s no such thing as an
ugly piece of wood.”
There are certainly no ugly pieces of wood in
Trimble’s house. There are several sets of stacking
triangular tables with the sides of the tabletop indented to include
“negative space,” a concept Trimble learned about in one of the many
woodworking classes he has taken. One of these sets was purchased by
Bev’s Fine Arts in
Raleigh
. Trimble assumed that they had been acquired for resale in the shop, and
was proud to find out that they were destined for the owner’s home.
A two-tiered computer table features a kidney-shaped
desk for a laptop with a smaller shelf in the same pattern above it.
Trimble calls it his Laptop Lady, and says it took a lot of trial and
error to get exactly the same curve in both layers.
“They all start with a basic design. When you
grind, the wood rips out and your design changes. The wood talks.”
In Trimble’s garage is a pile of Brazilian mahogany
with chalk squiggles tracing the grain. The pieces are enormous, nearly 2
feet wide and several inches thick. There are deep cuts in much of the
wood. Trimble explained that this is $3,000 worth of wood. It is 150 years
old, from a “green farm” in
Brazil
Since wood can be so expensive, Trimble often trades
his finished pieces for more wood. He also makes many of his own tools.
“I made a jig that can cut any angle for legs. It
took me two or three hours to make it, and it would have cost $275.
Besides, many of the tools available to make the job easier actually make
it take longer by the time you figure out how to use them. I draw it by
hand, band-saw it, mill it, and you’re done!”
Trimble enjoys the creative process, some different
from his former career. “Grinding is the fun part. That’s where the
creativity comes in. Curving is a real treat.”
Murry Handler did not have to stray far from
his professional career to start a new one in retirement. Born in
Bangor
,
Maine
, he moved to
New York
when he got out of the Navy after World War II. He studied at several art
schools, became a graphic designer and attempted to start his own
business. The first two attempts failed, but the third try was the charm.
Landy Handler, his 14-man firm, operated out of a
penthouse on the corner of 38th and 3rd in
New York City
and created ads, models and brochures for the pharmaceutical industry.
Handler quit doing the design work and handled the sales.
“I became a luncheonette. I was doing more
entertaining than anything else. I did great for a kid out of
Bangor
.”
At age 62 Handler retired to
Fearrington
Village
, but found retirement boring, so he started up a business doing graphic
design, going back to his original trade. He also started displaying and
selling the paintings he had done over the years.
“I was always painting at night, squeezing it in on
weekends,” he said of his days in
New
York
. days in
New York
. In the 1960s he had created a group of minimalist paintings and made 50
prints of each. His graphic design background is evident in these
paintings, which convey groups of people in varying attitudes with a few
strokes. His painting “Arm in Arm” portrays a boy and girl walking
together, arms around each other. The closeness and tenderness jump off
the page, although their bodies are painted with only three strokes.
. Other paintings are less comforting. “Genocide,”
another black and white minimalist piece, suggests a harrowing image of a
mass of bodies.
“It’s not a peaceful world,” said Handler.
Handler’s paintings are on display at the Tuscany Ridge development in
Hillsborough, in two of the model homes there. Handler and his wife, Enid,
also welcome visitors to their home to see his prints and paintings.
n
Captions from the top: "A Little Night
Music", "Savannah Surprise" and "The Re-Thinker"
by Forrest Greenslade; "Laptop Lady" and other tables by Doug
Trimble; "Arm In Arm" by Murry Handler.
Reformatted from
Southern Neighbor
|