If you live anywhere near Cape Cod, or Boothbay, or Mystic Seaport, you’ve no doubt come across carved wooden figurines of “old salt” sea captains, fisherman and pirates. Nowadays, they are most likely imported from Asia and are of questionable quality, but there was a time post-WWII when these souvenirs were locally carved, more skillfully rendered and fully handmade. They were a ubiquitous presence, along with driftwood decorations, blown glass sea-floats and other marine kitsch up and down the New England coast.

My father loved these figurines and I grew up in a household where they graced the bookshelves and fireplace mantels throughout our home. He even had a 6” high Winston Churchill, complete with cigar (which was always missing and replaced with a whittled matchstick). As children, we played with them, positioning them alongside G.I. Joe, Barbie and whatever other plastic counterparts were in vogue at the time. And somehow, most of them survived. I own the two shown here. Lately they have served as inspiration for a figure drawing exploration I’m embarking upon, all these years later. More on that later.

There was one other time in my life that these little friends have popped out of the background, from my shelf to my studio - one of my few forays into three-dimensional work. Raising two sons in the 1990’s, I found myself a leader for the local Cub Scout Pack. That experience, along with the many summer family camping trips, made for a lot of pleasant evenings sitting around a campfire, eating s’mores and enjoying the quiet of the forest. Which led to whittling. Which led to trying to replicate the type of pieces I had lived with my entire life. Which led to frustration and more than a few Band-aids. Many injuries later, I realized I need better tools and guidance.

Enter Harley Refsal.

Fisherman and Fisherwife, circa 1952, Artist once known

On a business trip to Oshkosh, Wisconsin to approve a press run, I wandered into a Woodcraft shop to while away some down-time. I was aware of Woodcraft from their mail order catalogs, but there were no retail stores in New England, so it was a good place to browse. Chatting with the clerk (who wore a full tat sleeve of all the Green Bay Packer retired numbers), he offered three things that would change my carving experience going forward.

First was a small, palm-sized “sloyd” knife that perfectly fit my hand. Second was a Teflon glove to save me from myself and reduce the need for bulk bandages in my medicine cabinet. The third was an instruction book on “Scandinavian Flat Plane Carving” by a man named Harley Refsal.

Harley Refsal, sadly, passed away last September, but his mark on the world of folk carving will live on through the many books and other resources he left behind. He was the son of a Minnesota farming family that immigrated from Norway, an ordained Lutheran pastor, as well as an educator at Luther College. To me, he was the conduit into a type of handcraft that resonated with my classical art education. Scandinavian Flat Plane carving is extremely gestural, with large, flat cuts and broad strokes of line. There is little fussing and detailing, the final figure rendered in confident, brave slices. Right up my alley.

Which leads me to where the Fisherman and Fisherwife figures on my dresser have now brought me. I have recently begun drawing from the figure model again. This is after many years away from life model sessions, and is a little bit daunting. Drawing from life, especially the human form, is difficult for me - a combination of latent ADD, the frustrating familial tremors in my dominant hand and just play laziness. It’s simply easier to work with images from the ever-present camera we all have at the ready in our phones, my better than average visual memory and the “theft” of color from whatever is at hand in the studio. But, drawing from life is important. It’s like going to the gym, artistically. And just like in the gym, you need to find the right apparatus to inform your work at large when you get back to the studio. Drawing as I had for years, relying on line and value, just wasn’t cutting it anymore. I needed a new approach.

So, inspired by the sharp planes and solid forms of the carved folk figures on my dresser, I moved away from the way I used to draw and began playing with a more sculptural strategy. So far, it’s progressing and hopefully will inform my new paintings in a positive way. More to come.

Figure Study, 2025 - 17 × 24, graphite on paper

Springtime Show - April 12 - May 29

As I mentioned in my last post, I am honored to be mounting a show of my Iceland paintings at the Great Ponds Gallery in Lakeville. This series represents a turning point in both my personal and studio life and I am thrilled to have them on the walls of a gallery space that is so near and dear to me. The opening reception is on Saturday, April 12 from 11AM to 1PM. Drop by if you’re in the neighborhood!