Sandra's story
Tic Tock Tom
Arts Court
"Car stereos work best for rose-heads," Tick Tock Tom explains. In a dimly lit chamber in Ottawa's Art's Court, I'm looking at "Rose", the third of a series. At about 21" high, its steely elegance, the gentle curl of its petals—truly, like the rose in St. Antoine d'Exupery's masterful work The Little Prince, this rose feels unique in the world.
But this rose's uniqueness—along with Tom's other work—stems from the singular materials used to construct it—scrap appliances, VCRs, stereos, computers—the mechanical rejects of our material world.
When I wandered into the former torture chamber of the old courthouse, Tom was still ironing details out, putting up the show, part of this year's Fringe Festival visual arts offerings. A giant woman, "Sandra", towering above me at about 8 Ω feet was "being a bitch", muttered Tom. He struggled to get her single laser-like red eye to turn on. Hung up by two chains, Sandra is made up of an assortment of tubes, tape-deck parts, bits of metal cans, mufflers, multi-coloured wires, computer parts, and metal from the Alexandria Bridge. If there's anything voluminous about Sandra, it's definitely not her mascara. It's her chest. Along with her massive thighs and height—let alone her personality—she's showing some serious mettle.
"She's viscous and angry," Tom blurts out. He admits to feeling a little "scared" at the prospect of spending time with her in a dark room for long. With her toaster-part head, arms raised as if in welcome, she looks and feels like a woman who's been ravaged and abused and somehow can still stand up. "Come feel my pain."
"Edgar" (1997), Tom's first large-scale human figure, "is Sandra's half sister," Tom continues. I'm flabbergasted—is Edgar human? Continuing to fiddle with circuits and plugs—not unlike a father might try to straighten ribbons in his errant daughter's hair—Tom explained. "I'm Sandra's father. Halloween is her mother [She was made to make an entrance at the Halloween party at Zaphod Beeblebrox in 1997.) "I'm Edgar's father, and his mother is Sprint [a local computer company who commissioned "Edgar" to put outside their store.], hence Sandra is Edgar's half sister."
Just looking at his face, I can tell Tom is hardly joking about all this.
A former English major, he dropped out of school while working on "Edgar". We're talking about a labour of love here.
Sandra's parts - just like ours - each have their separate histories and stories. Tom does not buy any materials for his work. Everything is found or gifted junk, in a sense much like early North American quilt-makers with their fabric stashes of old, forgotten or discarded clothes. Collectively, all these bits, make up this person - Sandra - very much like as individuals, we are the culmination of all our ancestors.
Sandra is the commanding descendent of all that history - from all the tapes seen on those VCRs to the morning toast made in her head.
Published in The Ottawa Xpress
But this rose's uniqueness—along with Tom's other work—stems from the singular materials used to construct it—scrap appliances, VCRs, stereos, computers—the mechanical rejects of our material world.
When I wandered into the former torture chamber of the old courthouse, Tom was still ironing details out, putting up the show, part of this year's Fringe Festival visual arts offerings. A giant woman, "Sandra", towering above me at about 8 Ω feet was "being a bitch", muttered Tom. He struggled to get her single laser-like red eye to turn on. Hung up by two chains, Sandra is made up of an assortment of tubes, tape-deck parts, bits of metal cans, mufflers, multi-coloured wires, computer parts, and metal from the Alexandria Bridge. If there's anything voluminous about Sandra, it's definitely not her mascara. It's her chest. Along with her massive thighs and height—let alone her personality—she's showing some serious mettle.
"She's viscous and angry," Tom blurts out. He admits to feeling a little "scared" at the prospect of spending time with her in a dark room for long. With her toaster-part head, arms raised as if in welcome, she looks and feels like a woman who's been ravaged and abused and somehow can still stand up. "Come feel my pain."
"Edgar" (1997), Tom's first large-scale human figure, "is Sandra's half sister," Tom continues. I'm flabbergasted—is Edgar human? Continuing to fiddle with circuits and plugs—not unlike a father might try to straighten ribbons in his errant daughter's hair—Tom explained. "I'm Sandra's father. Halloween is her mother [She was made to make an entrance at the Halloween party at Zaphod Beeblebrox in 1997.) "I'm Edgar's father, and his mother is Sprint [a local computer company who commissioned "Edgar" to put outside their store.], hence Sandra is Edgar's half sister."
Just looking at his face, I can tell Tom is hardly joking about all this.
A former English major, he dropped out of school while working on "Edgar". We're talking about a labour of love here.
Sandra's parts - just like ours - each have their separate histories and stories. Tom does not buy any materials for his work. Everything is found or gifted junk, in a sense much like early North American quilt-makers with their fabric stashes of old, forgotten or discarded clothes. Collectively, all these bits, make up this person - Sandra - very much like as individuals, we are the culmination of all our ancestors.
Sandra is the commanding descendent of all that history - from all the tapes seen on those VCRs to the morning toast made in her head.
Published in The Ottawa Xpress
