7 CROWS STUDIO: AN INTERVIEW WITH DON SHARPE
Don Sharpe is an artist with a unique style and an even more unique choice of artistic materials. Working with rusty metal, animal bones, driftwood, leather, and whatever else catches his eye during his outdoor forays, he infuses them with new life in a new form. He calls his style Native American Steampunk and he is passionate about his art.
Born and raised in Binghamton, his artistic journey began after returning to the area after time spent away.
TRIPLE CITIES CAROUSEL: How did you get your start as an artist?
DON SHARPE: I was in the Navy, and I lived in New Mexico for five years. Back in… it was in 1995 to 2000. I hadn’t actually started doing my art, but I’ve always been kind of a collector. I see something I like and I pick it up and stash it away. I’ve been hauling stuff around for years. I moved back to Binghamton in 2000 and I got an opportunity to do a commission piece for Laveggio - the coffee shop downtown. They asked me if I would do a sculpture of Saint Drogo, who is the patron saint of coffeehouses. There’s quite an interesting story about him; he was an ugly little member of, like a church, like a monk or friar kind of person. And he was extremely ugly and nobody could cast eyes on him because he was so ugly. So he squirreled himself away in a place and he roasted coffee. So, I made this piece out of driftwood and little pieces of metal and they have it down there in the shop. And then, after making it, [the owner] said, “Well, why don’t you show?” I’d been making stuff, but I’d never really shown it before. So, I did. I had my first show at her coffee shop, and then I joined the Broome County Arts Council and I had a solo show there, and then Cooperative Gallery 213 decided to bring me on so I had a couple of private shows there.
TCC: When you were growing up did you have any idea that someday you would be an artist?
DS: No. No way. I was a power plant operator for the first part of my adult [life]. I was in the Navy from 75-79, so I was 21 when I got out, and I continued as a power plant operator for about ten years. And then I went to culinary school down in New York and started working as a chef and, I don’t know, I came up with the idea I’ve got to make something outta [the things I had collected] and I just started doing it. And so now I go out and I’ll go walk in the woods, especially in the spring - that’s the best time because the grass hasn’t come up and all the leaves are dead. And if the snow’s gone, I look for white or off-white objects and I find skulls and carcasses of animals that have been out for a while. I go in the woods; I go in the riverbanks - I just kind of wander around. I like to work with rusty metal, anything that’s really old. And everything has to be found. I never buy anything I make my art out of. But when I find a piece it’s kind of a catalyst for me. It might be an old brass door handle - something comes to me and I’ll pick it up because I like it and sometimes right off the bat I know what I’m going to do with it. But if not, then I have it in a box and when the time comes, I put it to use. But I started doing the bones after I’d been making pieces out of driftwood and metal for about two or three years. That’s kind of where most of my focus is now. I kind of copy the old masters, Rodin’s “The Thinker” - I have my interpretation of that. None of my sculptures are all from the same animal. It might be some part from a deer, some part from a woodchuck, some part from an animal that I don’t even know what it is, and I just kind of build off that. Now I’m actually starting to work on Picasso’s “Goat” because I have a goat skull now, and Picasso did a bronze sculpture of a goat.
TCC: Where did the name 7 Crows Studio come from, and why seven?
DS: I had some old tattoos on my arm - I guess you call them jailhouse tattoos - not very good at all. And I happened into a tattoo parlor and I got the idea to make a piece of art for this guy. So I made the piece of art and I brought it to him and asked him if he was interested, and of course he was. It was a piece with a phone and an old Victrola. [The] needle from an old Victrola record player, that was actually what was putting the tattoo on the bone - you know, very rustic. So he gave me cover-ups on my tattoos and I ended up with seven crows. There’s an old poem, it’s a nursery rhyme, and it goes: “One for sorrow/ two for joy/ three for a girl/ and four for a boy/ five for silver/ six for gold/ and seven for secrets to never be told.” I kind of liked that and so I decided that 7 Crows Studio was a good name. My idea was to brand my art in a certain way, and that seemed to be a good way for me to go.
I have a very strong affection for crows. My grandmother had two pet crows and they used to ride on the handlebars of her bicycle. We have a picture of her with the two crows on her bike. I kind of liken myself to a crow, because a crow - he sees shiny things and that’s what attracts him, he picks them up - so I kind of liken myself to a crow in how I search for what I do, and maybe even [in] the way I use it. Actually, my grandson’s name is Corbin, which is the Latin for crow. They said it wasn’t intentional, but I have a feeling that it may have been. He loves my crow tattoos.
TCC: As a chef, there is a process of inventing - adding this or that ingredient to create something unique. Do you find that in any way similar to your artistic process?
DS: Oh yes. For me cooking – actually, everything in life - is all about solving problems. Like, I have this and how am I going to use it. And then as I start the project, then it just keeps building on itself.
TCC: Has your style changed since you began this process?
DS: I think my style is still the same, but I’ve really started working with a lot of different materials. I have a life-sized bust of a gorilla that I made out of old leather - an old doctors bag, shoe leather, a belt - which is my grandson’s absolute favorite thing. I started working with the leather because I had a challenge at the Cooperative Gallery. We were doing a trash-art show and I made a couple of sculptures of Geronimo and Sitting Bull out of cardboard. I just ripped the cardboard and textured it and they actually came out quite nice. So then I said, “Why don’t I do this with leather?” So I started doing it. And now my thinking goes toward working with the leather and the bone and still using some rusty metal here or there. I do a lot of collage. I found some old frames, gilded frames, in a barn, and I like to collect old books that would normally be recycled and take what I want out of them and I use them to make my collages. So they’re all kind of dark. All my art seems to be a little bit on the dark side.
TCC: Dark referring to meaning or color?
DS: More on the meanings of the darkness, you know. A lot of people see my art and they love it, but they say, I don’t think I would put that in my house. Because you have to be a certain sort of person to want that showing in your house, I guess. I have them all over my house. I don’t think it’s a dark side in my personality so much as more of an appreciation for older objects. So, not dark in a sense of eerie, spooky dark, but they end up being that way because my material lends itself to that.
TCC: What is the most unique item you’ve ever found?
DS: I found an old stone - this little donut with a hole right in the middle. And it’s got petrified deerskin that’s been cut into, like, rope - you know like rawhide rope, around the core sections. And what it obviously was, it was a weight on a fishing net that some Native American had used. It’s very unique and it’s very special to me. I have no idea who the person was that had this fishing net with these weights on them, but I feel this connection to that person because I have this piece of his equipment.
TCC: Do you have a favorite artist whose work most influences you?
DS: Marcel Duchamp is probably the one that… he was odd. And that’s the thing: I really try to step out of the box. I really don’t find anybody doing the type of art that I do. I like to bring new life to something that was discarded and forgotten. Because otherwise it’s just become part of something buried in the woods, more trash on the riverbank, you know. For me, the older and the more used… I guess I like to resurrect it, so to speak.
In a world where everything seems to be disposable, Don’s work resonates with a deeper desire for something permanent. Something that does not have a predetermined shelf life and cannot be replaced by a quick visit to the nearest big-box store. Something with history.
Don and his wife recently relocated home and studio from Binghamton to Ithaca to be closer to their daughter and grandson. His work can be seen on his website, 7crowsstudio.com or on the 7 Crows Studio Facebook page.