Kevin Kelley's "Rivers" Revealed

My colleague of 15 years was immediately amenable to the idea, but then I offered a disclaimer. My cultural tastes, I reminded him, range from the John Boy and Billy Big Show, to Chevy Chase movies, to the Nocona website. You might need to help me out a bit with all this aesthetic stuff. You know, tell me what everything is, what it represents.

No, he responded bravely, that’s not the way it works. Come to the gallery and tell me what you see. It’s the artist who creates the work, but it’s the viewer who completes it.

Hmmm. Never thought of it that way, but once I had a chance to peruse the five thought-provoking offerings with my friend as my guide, his words made perfect sense.

A native of Olean, NY, on the Allegheny, Kelley moved at age 9 to Pittsburgh where the confluence of the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers forms the Ohio. After high school, he served in the Army including a year-long stint as an infantryman in Vietnam. He returned to earn two degrees in sculpture, first a BFA from Edinborough State University in Pennsylvania, then an MFA from Virginia Commonwealth University.

In 1986, he joined the art faculty at Collegiate.  Wherever he’s traveled, whatever his focus, he has truly never left the river. For him, it’s a place to fish, walk, wade, study, and observe.

"I like being on the river," he said, "because it’s meditative, reflective. You’re living in the now, and whenever you’re doing something in contemporary time, you’re more aware. It’s stream of consciousness. Things are happening to you, and you’re part of them."

Kelley began his project June 15 and during the summer spent as many as eight hours each day, seven days a week in his studio shaping the marble, limestone, and steel he had gathered.

"It comes down to making something out of nothing," he explained. "But I had a definite strategy in mind as to how these stones would be carved formally in terms of line, shape, color, and texture. The photographs are faded memories, reflections of the power, grandeur, and intimacy found along rivers."

Once the school year began, he spent about three hours a day plus uninterrupted time on the weekend to refine his sculptures, complete the painting, and ensure that every piece fit together to his satisfaction.

He completed his work on February 3, the day before its opening. Since then, a wide variety of people – classes, individuals, fellow artists, and simply the curious -- has stopped by to study his craftsmanship and reflect on the images that bear the names "Anima," "Pilot," "Memories," "Reflections," and "Boomerang." "Hopefully," he concluded, "everyone can come in here and have some kind of dialogue with the work."

So we parted company that day, but in the ensuing hours our conversation lingered in my thoughts until I realized I’d experienced a revelation of sorts. Always the teacher, Kevin had taken his aesthetically challenged colleague and in 30 minutes gently walked him through the process and intent of five works of art which he created as much from his heart and mind as from tangible material.

Understanding his sculptural offerings requires thought and imagination, in essence losing yourself in the viewing and allowing them to speak to you. As I learned so well, my conversation that day was not just with the artist, but with his creations.
      --Weldon Bradshaw