Television
Discovery Science Channel - "Through the Wormhole with Morgan Freeman"
Summer, 2013 - Broadcasts
Danielle Fafchamps joined Stanford Professor Renee Reijo-Pera for the filming of an episode of "Through the Wormhole." Hosted by Morgan Freeman, this series combines ideas from the edge of science (e.g., Stem Cell research) with visual metaphors (e.g., figurative sculpture) to facilitate conceptual understanding.
Summer, 2013 - Broadcasts
Danielle Fafchamps joined Stanford Professor Renee Reijo-Pera for the filming of an episode of "Through the Wormhole." Hosted by Morgan Freeman, this series combines ideas from the edge of science (e.g., Stem Cell research) with visual metaphors (e.g., figurative sculpture) to facilitate conceptual understanding.
Publications
2019, August 28. The Almanach. A magical medium for art. “A Portola Valley sculptor strives to imbue her work with the expressions of basic emotions.”
https://www.almanacnews.com/print/story/2019/08/28/a-magical-medium-for-art (no photos)
https://www.almanacnews.com/print/story/2019/08/28/a-magical-medium-for-art (no photos)
| almanach.pdf |
| almanch2.pdf |
2014, July
Among the many distinguished works were The Eroded Sphere by David Mudgett, Eileen Fitz-Faulkner’s King Flamingo, and bronze busts by Danielle Fafchamps. read more
Half Way to Concord, "Ruth Bancroft Garden features sculptures in the garden"
Among the many distinguished works were The Eroded Sphere by David Mudgett, Eileen Fitz-Faulkner’s King Flamingo, and bronze busts by Danielle Fafchamps. read more
Half Way to Concord, "Ruth Bancroft Garden features sculptures in the garden"
2012, October - Helsinki, Finland
"Mystery - Arvoitus"
Published in HESA INPRINT, print magazine, issue #21
http://www.hesainprint.com/issues
"Mystery - Arvoitus"
Published in HESA INPRINT, print magazine, issue #21
http://www.hesainprint.com/issues
Blue Ribbon Award interview
by K. Kasik
|
Powerful design, beautiful texture and gorgeous patina! The quality of edges and subtle details in the headdress make this piece stand out. Kim Lordier, Award Juror 2011 |
KK: The form with its elongated features echoes the caryatid sculptures of Amedeo Modigliani – was this intentional?
DF: No not intentional at all. But we are not blank slates. What I have seen and what moved me of course influence what I do. The elongated features of one of the early heads I created were based on the photos of an anthropomorphic rock in Mesa Verde and set the pattern for future work.
When I travel in rock country, as I did recently on Lake Powell, I take pictures for inspiration of the faces and human shapes I see in rock formations. I selected that rock initially because I felt a patchwork of fond memories from Modigliani’s work perhaps, medieval paintings, or maybe my Thai roommate in graduate school?
KK: Which past master do you most revere? Who among contemporary sculptors inspires you?
DF: I respond to masterful skills and creativity—I just saw the Maharaja exhibit at the Asian Museum in San Francisco the exquisite details and intricacies of many sculptures and watercolors are awe inspiring, as is the work of many classical western sculptors who reproduced codified cultural themes and stories.
But what I admire and what moves me in art and in daily life is the human touch—even more satisfying if I can relate to the artist’s values. The human touch in a sculpture may be as subtle as a head bent just so. Rodin’s Balzac is a good example. Or in painting, look at the head of the Queen in Goya’s Charles IV of Spain and his family.
Two years ago, in Paris, the wonderful day I spent at the Musée du Quai Branly confirmed my preference for earthy forms and simplified human shapes. And at the Zadkine museum, his constructions built my confidence in the gravity defying possibility of clay. Recently, I also discovered the work of two sculptors who work in Belgium—Martine Bossuyt and Hanneke Beaumont. Their work has that human touch—albeit very different—and also an earthiness, a groundedness that appeals so much to me.
This year I went back to the Paul Delvaux museum on the Belgian Coast. I am so fond of the person he was that I will attempt to turn some of his female subjects into 3D.
KK: Ms. Lordier singles out the headdress and the details therein. The chink at the apex and the scarring on the right side of the form (ie. faulty edges) imbue an attractive sense of imperfection, age and distress.
DF: The basic shape of the headdress has universal appeal, it is timeless, an archetype with many patterns in cultures around the world and across time - from King Tut to medieval times and present day tiaras. People from different cultures have come to me and said that the headdress reminded them of a coif in their native country.
The perceptiveness of Ms. Lordier’s observation touches me very much because she zooms right in on the core processes of my practice: “the mark of the maker” and serendipity.
The mark of the maker gives the work its humanity and value. And serendipity to me is primordial which is why I do not accept specific commissions. When I create a work I do not have a rigorous plan instead I go along with the unexpected. So, in this case I did not intend for the edges to be as they are, in fact I thought I would trim them with a knife. But I was using a rolling pin and the clay spread beyond the edge of the canvas I was working on. I found this unintended pattern pleasing and so I kept it. I rely on serendipity a lot in my work—to me that is the essence of the artistic endeavor.
KK: The power of this piece is in large part due to the simplicity of uncomplicated forms you have created – undiluted by needless details. Was monumentality a goal you were striving for?
DF: When I start a piece I have an idea about the overall structure, and a feeling about the size I want to achieve—small, medium, large. Nothing more. My work is about basic human emotions not about the display of exquisite techniques—technique is a means to an end. For example most of my heads have no ears. Some people do not notice because it is the whole feel of the work that resonates with who they are and into which they project their own emotions.
KK: The eyes are closed – reinforcing a terrific solemnity. Did you ever consider making the eyes opened?
DF: Most of my sculptures are captured in a quiet moment of personal reflection, they are contemplative and peaceful, they exhibit strength and resilence in an increasingly complex and precarious world. They are not sleeping nor thought free, they project the calm confidence of someone who has experienced the good and the not so good, come to term with it and is very grounded. Open eyes could convey a different set of emotions.
KK: How specifically was the surface manipulated to create it- what substance and how many layers? Were they all applied before firing in the kiln or after – please explain the process.
DF: Simplicity and earthiness appeal to me as complement, or counterpoint, to our high tech, machine-perfectly-turned-objects society. And so it is in the treatment of my sculptures. Each piece goes through at least 3 steps: I bisque fire at 1925 F, then I apply layers of natural pigments from Provence that I mix myself in the same way that my French friends cook ... a bit of this, a bit of that. Last the work is fired a second time usually at 2167 F. Depending on the feel of the work and if it is displayed indoors I may apply a coat of wax to give it a satin finish.
KK: I love the fact that you don’t have a base per se. What engineering and strengthening demands did you have to overcome to do this?
DF: The absence of pedestal is in line with my approach to sculpture—natural, organic, grounded. I work without internal armature, and I use no props while building—even my tall totems or large heads. This ensures that the work is self contained. People who bought my sculptures have commented how peaceful and serene they are—I believe that impression is due in part because each piece has its own physical equilibrium. Each piece is stable on its own, well-grounded. So no flying ballerinas from me, it’s not what my work is about.
KK: An interesting detail is that the form has, as mentioned above, expressively elongated features. Except for one. The mouth is peculiarly small – and frozen in an almost pursed expression. Why is that? To me, I think the overall form of the sculpture speaks much more than the mouth it has – ever could dare to. Does this point register with you in any way, whether intended or not?
DF: To me the only valid interpretation of a work is that of the individual viewer. You just described your interpretation, it is meaningful to you. The connection you make between the work and your own experience is the kind of event that matters to me. I realized that early on when I sold a sculpture to a person who told me the pose of the sculpture was similar to her pose as an adolescent looking at the sea when she visited her grandmother in the south of France. That recollection concretized for me something I was feeling intuitively. After the joy of creating sculptures, I am most happy when people connect with a piece in a personal way.
KK: The ambiguity of nationality in this image defies ethnocentricity. Did you intend for this image to represent a universal, as opposed to a Greek woman, a Chinese woman, an African woman, etc.? Or for that matter it could, because the title is Memory #2 - represent non-gender specified humanity period.
DF: The anthropomorphic rock origin of Memory #2 and other sculptures (heads and totems) may explain the archetypal feel of the features. When I take pictures of rocks I look for basic human features. The question of gender is interesting because when I create a piece it goes through male/female stages. I stop when I am satisfied with the feel of the work regardless of the apparent gender. And here also viewers’ interpretation varies. I am thinking of one piece which I saw as strongly male and yet a viewer saw it as female. That is one reason I usually do not title my work and when I do I opt for non-gender specific title.
DF: No not intentional at all. But we are not blank slates. What I have seen and what moved me of course influence what I do. The elongated features of one of the early heads I created were based on the photos of an anthropomorphic rock in Mesa Verde and set the pattern for future work.
When I travel in rock country, as I did recently on Lake Powell, I take pictures for inspiration of the faces and human shapes I see in rock formations. I selected that rock initially because I felt a patchwork of fond memories from Modigliani’s work perhaps, medieval paintings, or maybe my Thai roommate in graduate school?
KK: Which past master do you most revere? Who among contemporary sculptors inspires you?
DF: I respond to masterful skills and creativity—I just saw the Maharaja exhibit at the Asian Museum in San Francisco the exquisite details and intricacies of many sculptures and watercolors are awe inspiring, as is the work of many classical western sculptors who reproduced codified cultural themes and stories.
But what I admire and what moves me in art and in daily life is the human touch—even more satisfying if I can relate to the artist’s values. The human touch in a sculpture may be as subtle as a head bent just so. Rodin’s Balzac is a good example. Or in painting, look at the head of the Queen in Goya’s Charles IV of Spain and his family.
Two years ago, in Paris, the wonderful day I spent at the Musée du Quai Branly confirmed my preference for earthy forms and simplified human shapes. And at the Zadkine museum, his constructions built my confidence in the gravity defying possibility of clay. Recently, I also discovered the work of two sculptors who work in Belgium—Martine Bossuyt and Hanneke Beaumont. Their work has that human touch—albeit very different—and also an earthiness, a groundedness that appeals so much to me.
This year I went back to the Paul Delvaux museum on the Belgian Coast. I am so fond of the person he was that I will attempt to turn some of his female subjects into 3D.
KK: Ms. Lordier singles out the headdress and the details therein. The chink at the apex and the scarring on the right side of the form (ie. faulty edges) imbue an attractive sense of imperfection, age and distress.
DF: The basic shape of the headdress has universal appeal, it is timeless, an archetype with many patterns in cultures around the world and across time - from King Tut to medieval times and present day tiaras. People from different cultures have come to me and said that the headdress reminded them of a coif in their native country.
The perceptiveness of Ms. Lordier’s observation touches me very much because she zooms right in on the core processes of my practice: “the mark of the maker” and serendipity.
The mark of the maker gives the work its humanity and value. And serendipity to me is primordial which is why I do not accept specific commissions. When I create a work I do not have a rigorous plan instead I go along with the unexpected. So, in this case I did not intend for the edges to be as they are, in fact I thought I would trim them with a knife. But I was using a rolling pin and the clay spread beyond the edge of the canvas I was working on. I found this unintended pattern pleasing and so I kept it. I rely on serendipity a lot in my work—to me that is the essence of the artistic endeavor.
KK: The power of this piece is in large part due to the simplicity of uncomplicated forms you have created – undiluted by needless details. Was monumentality a goal you were striving for?
DF: When I start a piece I have an idea about the overall structure, and a feeling about the size I want to achieve—small, medium, large. Nothing more. My work is about basic human emotions not about the display of exquisite techniques—technique is a means to an end. For example most of my heads have no ears. Some people do not notice because it is the whole feel of the work that resonates with who they are and into which they project their own emotions.
KK: The eyes are closed – reinforcing a terrific solemnity. Did you ever consider making the eyes opened?
DF: Most of my sculptures are captured in a quiet moment of personal reflection, they are contemplative and peaceful, they exhibit strength and resilence in an increasingly complex and precarious world. They are not sleeping nor thought free, they project the calm confidence of someone who has experienced the good and the not so good, come to term with it and is very grounded. Open eyes could convey a different set of emotions.
KK: How specifically was the surface manipulated to create it- what substance and how many layers? Were they all applied before firing in the kiln or after – please explain the process.
DF: Simplicity and earthiness appeal to me as complement, or counterpoint, to our high tech, machine-perfectly-turned-objects society. And so it is in the treatment of my sculptures. Each piece goes through at least 3 steps: I bisque fire at 1925 F, then I apply layers of natural pigments from Provence that I mix myself in the same way that my French friends cook ... a bit of this, a bit of that. Last the work is fired a second time usually at 2167 F. Depending on the feel of the work and if it is displayed indoors I may apply a coat of wax to give it a satin finish.
KK: I love the fact that you don’t have a base per se. What engineering and strengthening demands did you have to overcome to do this?
DF: The absence of pedestal is in line with my approach to sculpture—natural, organic, grounded. I work without internal armature, and I use no props while building—even my tall totems or large heads. This ensures that the work is self contained. People who bought my sculptures have commented how peaceful and serene they are—I believe that impression is due in part because each piece has its own physical equilibrium. Each piece is stable on its own, well-grounded. So no flying ballerinas from me, it’s not what my work is about.
KK: An interesting detail is that the form has, as mentioned above, expressively elongated features. Except for one. The mouth is peculiarly small – and frozen in an almost pursed expression. Why is that? To me, I think the overall form of the sculpture speaks much more than the mouth it has – ever could dare to. Does this point register with you in any way, whether intended or not?
DF: To me the only valid interpretation of a work is that of the individual viewer. You just described your interpretation, it is meaningful to you. The connection you make between the work and your own experience is the kind of event that matters to me. I realized that early on when I sold a sculpture to a person who told me the pose of the sculpture was similar to her pose as an adolescent looking at the sea when she visited her grandmother in the south of France. That recollection concretized for me something I was feeling intuitively. After the joy of creating sculptures, I am most happy when people connect with a piece in a personal way.
KK: The ambiguity of nationality in this image defies ethnocentricity. Did you intend for this image to represent a universal, as opposed to a Greek woman, a Chinese woman, an African woman, etc.? Or for that matter it could, because the title is Memory #2 - represent non-gender specified humanity period.
DF: The anthropomorphic rock origin of Memory #2 and other sculptures (heads and totems) may explain the archetypal feel of the features. When I take pictures of rocks I look for basic human features. The question of gender is interesting because when I create a piece it goes through male/female stages. I stop when I am satisfied with the feel of the work regardless of the apparent gender. And here also viewers’ interpretation varies. I am thinking of one piece which I saw as strongly male and yet a viewer saw it as female. That is one reason I usually do not title my work and when I do I opt for non-gender specific title.