Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84 Page 85 Page 86 Page 87 Page 88 Page 89 Page 90 Page 91 Page 92 Page 93 Page 94 Page 95 Page 96 Page 97 Page 98 Page 99 Page 100“ Treasure Artist at work N o v e m b e r 2 0 1 6 4 7 Diane Hudson By Diane Hudson One Man’s Salvaged scrap metal and reclaimed materials surprise as birds and mammals at the hands of New Gloucester sculptor Patrick Plourde. Y ou’ll be surprised,” promises sculptor Patrick Plourde when we visit him at his studio/home in New Gloucester. And we are. If he hadn’t mentioned the tall sunflowers out front, we’d have sped right past his huge, hangar-like building, smothered on all sides with what looks like debris. Dozens of rusted shovel heads, placed neatly in pyramid-shaped piles, cluster around the building entrance. “Pinecones,” Plourde says. “I take these shovel heads and make them into giant pinecone sculptures. I’ve got five Pinecones on order right now from an outdoor sculpture committee in Longview, Tex- as.” He relaxes into silence. “They go for upwards of $4,000 each.” Each cone is made of 80 shovel heads. Plourde cuts the tips off the corners and fixes them on a shaft connected to a base, insisting on just the right tilt. “I used to do my own salvaging. Now I rely on scrap dealers. I’ve got a guy up in Stockton Springs. When I got this Texas order, I gave him a call. He delivered 150 shovels to me in ten minutes!” As a boy, “I was sure I’d be an archaeologist. I grew up in Brunswick and had unlimited access to the Peary-MacMillan Arctic Museum and the Walker Art Building at Bowdoin Col- lege. I spent hours and hours there, thirsty for the origin of things. The materials in my pieces all have a history. Every pine- cone is different,” as though it’s whispering its story to him. “Putting each one together holds an unending fascination for me. Does that make me a hoarder?” Finding Inspiration L oving parents sent him to Portland School of Art (now MECA), where he completed his BFA in 1976. John Ventimiglia, professor emeritus, recalls the day he brought Bernard Langlais in to work with his students. “I re- member Pat’s eyes lighting up,” says Ventimiglia. “He was very excited to meet Blackie.” Remember when role models were role models? “Langlais comes into the classroom with a briefcase. Says nothing. Opens it up. There are a few papers and a big bottle of bourbon.” “Blackie was so happy, so carefree. Several years