{"id":12069,"date":"2016-10-28T10:49:13","date_gmt":"2016-10-28T14:49:13","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/?p=12069"},"modified":"2016-11-21T18:31:03","modified_gmt":"2016-11-21T23:31:03","slug":"one-mans-treasure","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/one-mans-treasure\/","title":{"rendered":"One Man&#8217;s Treasure"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Salvaged scrap metal and reclaimed materials surprise as birds and mammals at the hands of New Gloucester sculptor Patrick Plourde.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>By Diane Hudson<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-12070 alignleft\" src=\"http:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/Pat-Plourde-NOV16-300x225.jpg\" alt=\"pat-plourde-nov16\" width=\"300\" height=\"225\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/Pat-Plourde-NOV16-300x225.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/Pat-Plourde-NOV16-200x150.jpg 200w, https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/Pat-Plourde-NOV16-467x350.jpg 467w, https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/10\/Pat-Plourde-NOV16.jpg 600w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/>You\u2019ll be surprised,\u201d promises sculptor Patrick Plourde when we visit him at his studio\/home in New<br \/>\nGloucester. And we are. If he hadn\u2019t mentioned the tall sunflowers out front, we\u2019d 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.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cPinecones,\u201d Plourde says. \u201cI take these shovel heads and make them into giant pinecone sculptures. I\u2019ve got five Pinecones on order right now from an outdoor sculpture committee in Longview, Texas.\u201d He relaxes into silence. \u201cThey go for upwards of $4,000 each.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>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.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI used to do my own salvaging. Now I rely on scrap dealers. I\u2019ve 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!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>As a boy, \u201cI was sure I\u2019d 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 College. I spent hours and hours there, thirsty for the origin of things. The materials in my pieces all have a history. Every pinecone is different,\u201d as though it\u2019s whispering its story to him. \u201cPutting each one together holds an unending fascination for me. Does that make me a hoarder?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Finding Inspiration<\/p>\n<p>Loving 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. \u201cI remember Pat\u2019s eyes lighting up,\u201d says Ventimiglia. \u201cHe was very excited to meet Blackie.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Remember when role models were role models? \u201cLanglais comes into the classroom with a briefcase. Says nothing. Opens it up. There are a few papers and a big bottle of bourbon.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cBlackie was so happy, so carefree. Several years later I visited him at his home and studio in Cushing. He taught me that you don\u2019t have to be a Henry Moore. You can work from reclaimed stuff. His work was fresh, wildly eclectic. I felt a rush of learning it was OK to be crude, expressive, not overly pristine. Langlais was living in a farmhouse and having so much fun just being creative, being free.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>As we speak, a huge bird structure motionlessly swoops over my head. \u201cAn eagle,\u201d Plourde says. \u201cThe body is made of a large grain shovel cut in half, folded into itself. The tail wing is a lawn edger. The wings are made of nine steel rakes. I forged the talons myself.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And the big driftwood over there? \u201cThat\u2019s new\u2013a wild boar skull with antler pieces for tusks and vintage nails as teeth. I found the driftwood at Brassua Lake near Greenville. This piece is for Dana Street (restaurateur and co-owner of Fore Street, Street &amp; Co., and Scales). \u201cDana likes my jawbone structures. He uses them in his restaurants.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Plourde and Street \u201cmet in 1989, when I was opening Street &amp; Co.,\u201d Street says. \u201cI was looking for an artist who understood that form isn\u2019t just about the utility but involves capturing what the mind\u2019s eye sees and creating something universal. Pat made us a collection of structures to hold veggies that bring to mind hay feeders.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s done many projects for us,\u201d Street says. He creates these objects for the space because we need them, but they are essentially art. Like the Boston Bar at Fore Street,\u201d says Street. \u201cFor Scales, we wanted to create an environment with a maritime ideal that doesn\u2019t hit you in the face. There\u2019s a subtlety to what he does.\u201d He points out the driftwood \u201cwith an edge\u201d that Plourde has integrated into the booths and the sail cloth neatly fitted into wrought-iron posts bordering the seating by the bar.<\/p>\n<p>Then it hits us like a rush. Plourde is at the heart of the signature \u2018look\u2019 of Street\u2019s popular restaurants.<\/p>\n<p>While we Portland diners have been collecting memories at Fore Street, Scales, and Street &amp; Co., we\u2019ve already become collectors of Patrick Plourde.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Highs &amp; Lows<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Plourde battled the debilitating Lyme disease from 2008 to 2012. \u201cI napped away all of 2008,\u201d he says. \u201cI thought I was depressed. Then, in 2009, vertigo set in, along with unbearable knee pain, anger, rage, fatigue, and depression.\u201d Plourde eventually tested positive at St. Mary\u2019s in Lewiston in 2010. \u201cIt stole my life completely. I got standard six-week CDC-approved treatment, but the symptoms persisted.\u201d Later in 2010 he met Dr. Patrick Mulcahey, \u201ca Lyme literate\u201d physician in Kennebunk who introduced him to new treatments. These led to even greater pain, \u201cwhich he told me is good. I received massive doses of antibiotics. The pain gets worse once you start killing it. It means the infection is leaching out of your body. At one point I couldn\u2019t walk. Finally, by October 2012, I felt okay. I\u2019m one of the lucky ones,\u201d<\/p>\n<p>In April 2013, Plourde enjoyed a complete sell-out of his 14-piece show at the Aucocisco Gallery in Portland, further lifting his attitude and energy. Although he\u2019d had much success in earlier shows at this gallery, selling 40 of 50 small works for between $100 to $400 over two days in 2011, this was different. \u201cI made every piece specifically for this show.\u201d The most ambitious was Circus Wagon, eight paired animals riding in their wagons ($10,000)\u2013an idea Plourde has been developing for a larger project ever since.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cCircus Wagon was kind of a prelude to my Noah\u2019s Ark project. In my mind is a vivid memory, like a colorful kids\u2019 book, of fancy decorative cages with the animals looking through it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He shows me the scoop rake he uses to create the penguins. \u201cWhen they used horses to haul logs out of the woods, they\u2019d attach this to the end of the load to slow it while going downhill. The way it curves\u2013suggesting a little inquisitive head\u2013I can\u2019t see anything else but a penguin. Hold on a second.\u201d He pulls out a sketchbook and draws a canister\u2013a small, jar-like vessel that came off an expansion tank. \u201cAn elephant! See, here\u2019s the body and trunk. I have to add legs, ears, and tusks, but it\u2019s an elephant, no doubt about it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He then picks up a lopper (an axe handle used for lopping branches off a felled tree). \u201cI turn it upside down. It\u2019s a rhinoceros! How about that blue heron standing on a turtle? \u201cSilage fork; chain link for the neck; a sickle bar point for the head; pitchfork tines; lug wrench legs; vintage steel spikes for the feet.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Plourde is currently making a huge vulture for his upcoming show at the June LaCombe Sculpture Garden in Pownal. \u201cI\u2019m using 16-17 scythe blades. It seems fitting to me that these blades lend themselves to forming the vulture, as they come from a very sharp and scary implement.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThe parts tell me what they want and have to be!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>As his sculptures keenly watch him, Plourde conducts his daily routine of eating breakfast at the village store, swimming in warmer weather at nearby Rang Pond, and at night, \u201cwatching the loons grow.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou gotta live life. Plant sunflowers. Be with your family, your friends. I love it. I love being here. It\u2019s enough, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Patrick Plourde will be exhibiting at the <strong>18th Annual Bradbury Mountain Arts Holiday Show and Sale<\/strong> in \u00a0Pownal on Nov. 19. His Autumn at Hawk Ridge Farm will show throughout the winter at the June Lacombe Sculpture Gallery.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>November 2016<br \/>\nSalvaged scrap metal and reclaimed materials surprise as birds and mammals at the hands of New Gloucester sculptor Patrick Plourde.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":12170,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[113],"class_list":["post-12069","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-featured","tag-november-2016"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12069","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12069"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12069\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12183,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12069\/revisions\/12183"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/12170"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12069"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12069"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12069"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}