Eric Helin Design • Eric Helín Artist Statement

Artist's Statement | Biography

Artist's Statement
    It’s hard to know where to begin when you write a statement about your work. Do you talk about the events of your life or your art? Events you experience gives your art its unique character but your character enables you to create your art. So where to begin?

    The work of the Cubist artists made a strong impression on me at a very young age. Today, Cubism still continues to influence my art. I often use a Cubist approach when I manipulate space. The Cubist interpretation usually lacks perceptual depth so I often artificially restrict depth in my work by forcing my designs into the confines of a two dimensional plane which flattens and distorts depth in my works. The results of this can be seen in pieces like my table “Watercourse.” Although Cubism may have been my single strongest influence, there are other art movements that have also influenced my work

    The outré, exotic and unusual have always fascinated me. So it should come as no surprise, that aspects of the Avant-Garde and Surrealism also significantly influence my work, though ultimately my work is defined by Concrescentism. The Concrescentist approach allows me to re-interpret traditional elements or designs by applying operative techniques derived from various art movements. This alters the original element so that it’s rendered in an uncharacteristic way and results in hybrid decorative motifs or forms. For example: the faces on the Ang|el/le|orum table are Greek seraphic icons reinterpreted in ancient classical form. Indeed, the whole table itself is a physical representation in three dimensions of a traditional two dimensional seraphic icon or diagram.

    My own “maleness” is another underlying component in my artistic expression. I’m captivated by the sleekness, grace, and angularity of the male form which seems very consistent with my own designs. This masculine disposition is expressed in defined lines and carefully delineated geometric forms. It also adds an industrial dimension that issues in precisely structured pieces like “Smokestack,” or in the series of tables with bridge-like qualities: like “Spann” and “Watercourse.” It’s this impulse that gives rise to the functional component in my art and why my pieces are designed for practical use rather than being purely ornamental. Finally this masculine influence, can be seen in my love and identification with steel.

    Every artist has a favorite material but no other material has captured my imagination like steel. Steel is heavy, durable, massive, and permanent. With a little heat, it becomes as pliable as clay. It can easily be reworked, unlike ceramic which can only be fired once. I’ve also always hated waiting on things to dry: clay, glue, paint, etc. When one piece of metal is braised or welded to another it is joined immediately.

    When I’m creating something, I go into a mental state I call: "being ‘on glide’,” which is similar to a reverie. While I’m in this state I’m no longer in control; I’m just “along for the ride. Since everything is in flux, an endless number of mental permutations and arrangements of a form simultaneously suggest themselves to me. While I’m “on glide,” I often make little marks on a sheet of paper. When I look at these scribbles some months later, I can remember exactly what the design looked like at the time that it first came to mind. At other times the symbols and scritch marks have no immediate meaning for me so I set the paper aside for a couple of weeks; when I come back to the page, it’s as if I’m able to re-interpret the marks on the paper into three dimensional images. In some cases I’ve worked off one of these sheets for a year and never exhausted all the design possibilities.

    When I create a piece of art that can be used as a table, its primary function is no longer that of a table – it is a work of art and anyone observing it instantly recognizes it! For instance the Ang|el/le|orum table technically has no legs (just as birds have no arms). It has wings. While these function in as legs on this table, they are not legs by definition – instead, the table rests on the tips of its wings. Thus, on casual observation a person is unsure of what he or she is seeing and interest increases dramatically
For this reason, when I begin, I first try to identify those aspects of a piece of furniture that cause us to take it so much for granted that we respond to it with indifferent familiarity; next I want to deliberately alter those aspects – radically if possible. By redefining an everyday article of furniture in this way, I’m able to separate it from its everyday utilitarian n context. My goal in separating it from the drudgery and limitations of its utilitarian existence is to transform it and make it into something more than it was – to erase all traces of the mundane.

    This brings up another important aspect of my art: my awareness of the importance of perception. The vantage point from which each person views their own particular reality. Since a change in perspective is a mechanical way of changing a person’s viewpoint, I often try to alter perspective by designing my pieces in such a way that it forces those who view my art, to see the world in a different way. To do this, I simply change the object in such a way that it creates its own perspective. It forces its own perspective on the viewer. Thus someone is forced to see a piece from a vantage point that is entirely different than their own. My table, Tilt is a good example of this.

    Certain motifs or elements seem to keep cropping up in my work as well. Whatever impulse gives rise to these seems largely unintentional and mostly subconscious. I’m often unaware that I’ve used a familiar motif in a piece until a much later date, because it appears in a different position or at a different angle so its identity remains hidden. But at some point I’ll be idly gazing at the finished piece in a kind of reverie. Suddenly I’ll recognize a certain element has capriciously put in its appearance once again and I start to laugh. It’s a laugh of recognition, a laugh of delight; like seeing an old friend who has dropped by once again to say, “hello.” Until the moment that I recognized the motif, I had been completely unaware of its presence in my design.

    Over the years, I’ve identified some of these thematic elements that tend to appear, in my work on a fairly consistent basis. These exist in my work in much the same way that a particular configuration of notes is used by a composer or a cast of characters appears in a play. Among these motifs or elements are: the squared spiral, the irregular zigzag, the trapezoid, standard geometric forms (such as: squares, triangles, circles), stylized “flow patterns” as seen in: smoke, water, clouds, or organic motion. But it’s the way in which I combine and use them that produce truly unique creations.

    Finally, I frequently derive three dimensional forms from symbols. One example I can think of is: “The Walking Wing” table lamp that originated as a cattle brand, which brings up a final point. While I seriously pursue my work, what I want people who view my work to experience more than anything else is a sense of fun. Fun is an element in all my work. I’ve told people on more than one occasion that if someone really understands my work – if someone looks at it and reflects on it, eventually you’ll find, somewhere back behind it all – a child – standing there and laughing at you.



			Artist's Statement \| Biography Artist's Statement It’s hard to know where to begin when you write a statement about your work. Do you talk about the events of your life or your art? Events you experience gives your art its unique character but your character enables you to create your art. So where to begin? The work of the Cubist artists made a strong impression on me at a very young age. Today, Cubism still continues to influence my art. I often use a Cubist approach when I manipulate space. The Cubist interpretation usually lacks perceptual depth so I often artificially restrict depth in my work by forcing my designs into the confines of a two dimensional plane which flattens and distorts depth in my works. The results of this can be seen in pieces like my table “Watercourse.” Although Cubism may have been my single strongest influence, there are other art movements that have also influenced my work The outré, exotic and unusual have always fascinated me. So it should come as no surprise, that aspects of the Avant-Garde and Surrealism also significantly influence my work, though ultimately my work is defined by Concrescentism. The Concrescentist approach allows me to re-interpret traditional elements or designs by applying operative techniques derived from various art movements. This alters the original element so that it’s rendered in an uncharacteristic way and results in hybrid decorative motifs or forms. For example: the faces on the Ang\|el/le\|orum table are Greek seraphic icons reinterpreted in ancient classical form. Indeed, the whole table itself is a physical representation in three dimensions of a traditional two dimensional seraphic icon or diagram. My own “maleness” is another underlying component in my artistic expression. I’m captivated by the sleekness, grace, and angularity of the male form which seems very consistent with my own designs. This masculine disposition is expressed in defined lines and carefully delineated geometric forms. It also adds an industrial dimension that issues in precisely structured pieces like “Smokestack,” or in the series of tables with bridge-like qualities: like “Spann” and “Watercourse.” It’s this impulse that gives rise to the functional component in my art and why my pieces are designed for practical use rather than being purely ornamental. Finally this masculine influence, can be seen in my love and identification with steel. Every artist has a favorite material but no other material has captured my imagination like steel. Steel is heavy, durable, massive, and permanent. With a little heat, it becomes as pliable as clay. It can easily be reworked, unlike ceramic which can only be fired once. I’ve also always hated waiting on things to dry: clay, glue, paint, etc. When one piece of metal is braised or welded to another it is joined immediately. When I’m creating something, I go into a mental state I call: "being ‘on glide’,” which is similar to a reverie. While I’m in this state I’m no longer in control; I’m just “along for the ride. Since everything is in flux, an endless number of mental permutations and arrangements of a form simultaneously suggest themselves to me. While I’m “on glide,” I often make little marks on a sheet of paper. When I look at these scribbles some months later, I can remember exactly what the design looked like at the time that it first came to mind. At other times the symbols and scritch marks have no immediate meaning for me so I set the paper aside for a couple of weeks; when I come back to the page, it’s as if I’m able to re-interpret the marks on the paper into three dimensional images. In some cases I’ve worked off one of these sheets for a year and never exhausted all the design possibilities. When I create a piece of art that can be used as a table, its primary function is no longer that of a table – it is a work of art and anyone observing it instantly recognizes it! For instance the Ang\|el/le\|orum table technically has no legs (just as birds have no arms). It has wings. While these function in as legs on this table, they are not legs by definition – instead, the table rests on the tips of its wings. Thus, on casual observation a person is unsure of what he or she is seeing and interest increases dramatically For this reason, when I begin, I first try to identify those aspects of a piece of furniture that cause us to take it so much for granted that we respond to it with indifferent familiarity; next I want to deliberately alter those aspects – radically if possible. By redefining an everyday article of furniture in this way, I’m able to separate it from its everyday utilitarian n context. My goal in separating it from the drudgery and limitations of its utilitarian existence is to transform it and make it into something more than it was – to erase all traces of the mundane. This brings up another important aspect of my art: my awareness of the importance of perception. The vantage point from which each person views their own particular reality. Since a change in perspective is a mechanical way of changing a person’s viewpoint, I often try to alter perspective by designing my pieces in such a way that it forces those who view my art, to see the world in a different way. To do this, I simply change the object in such a way that it creates its own perspective. It forces its own perspective on the viewer. Thus someone is forced to see a piece from a vantage point that is entirely different than their own. My table, Tilt is a good example of this. Certain motifs or elements seem to keep cropping up in my work as well. Whatever impulse gives rise to these seems largely unintentional and mostly subconscious. I’m often unaware that I’ve used a familiar motif in a piece until a much later date, because it appears in a different position or at a different angle so its identity remains hidden. But at some point I’ll be idly gazing at the finished piece in a kind of reverie. Suddenly I’ll recognize a certain element has capriciously put in its appearance once again and I start to laugh. It’s a laugh of recognition, a laugh of delight; like seeing an old friend who has dropped by once again to say, “hello.” Until the moment that I recognized the motif, I had been completely unaware of its presence in my design. Over the years, I’ve identified some of these thematic elements that tend to appear, in my work on a fairly consistent basis. These exist in my work in much the same way that a particular configuration of notes is used by a composer or a cast of characters appears in a play. Among these motifs or elements are: the squared spiral, the irregular zigzag, the trapezoid, standard geometric forms (such as: squares, triangles, circles), stylized “flow patterns” as seen in: smoke, water, clouds, or organic motion. But it’s the way in which I combine and use them that produce truly unique creations. Finally, I frequently derive three dimensional forms from symbols. One example I can think of is: “The Walking Wing” table lamp that originated as a cattle brand, which brings up a final point. While I seriously pursue my work, what I want people who view my work to experience more than anything else is a sense of fun. Fun is an element in all my work. I’ve told people on more than one occasion that if someone really understands my work – if someone looks at it and reflects on it, eventually you’ll find, somewhere back behind it all – a child – standing there and laughing at you. 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