Jan Fisher and the Ceramics Studio: A little bit of Heaven

There were three things you had to do to get an A grade for the ten week semester sculpture class with Jan Fisher.  They were: do three sculptures, do not miss more than three classes, and do 20 hours after class work in the ceramics studio.  “Everyone can get an A", Jan would say, "I don’t believe in the bell curve.  Whoever invented the bell curve should be shot!” He would say that every semester, first day of class:  “whoever invented the bell curve should be shot!” I imagined some person, the inventor of the bell curve, drawing a bell on the board and saying I’ve got it! Then the crack of a gun.

This was the academic Jan talking, or as academic as he got. In reality it was just a set of measured things to be ticked off a list so all the paper work looked good.  Nothing to do with real art. One could do all that, those three things and get a good grade.  But I realized early on that to make it as a real artist, doing those things will not prepare you in the least.  What you really had to do was so much more than that. The nice thing though if you did just do those things and worry only about the grade, you could finish the semester, pat yourself on the back and forget about it.  What Jan actually taught in his actions and what he said off the record was so much more.  He wanted us to work so hard, give our souls, make something of our lives and generate a wave that would go around the world and reach up into heaven. The simple requirements for a grade stopped at the end of the semester, what he really wanted from us lasted much longer, carried on much further and haunts me even to this day.

Coming to Hawaii

The Royal Hawaiian Family King Kamehameha 

and co. Jan was excited, he had big plans for 

some park with all the royal family.  But later 

when I started taking classes the sculptures 

were gone and he never spoke of the 

project again.

I first came to Hawaii in 1989 to attend Brigham Young University on the beautiful north shore of Oahu in a small town called Laie. Hawaii is such a wonderful place to go to school, the agreeable climate, beautiful smells, sites and wonderful people everywhere. I truly had a sense of awakening, that something was going to happen and was happening at this moment. I had sense of coming alive. This was before I ever stepped into the Ceramics Studio. When I entered the Ceramics Studio, it was hard to take in the place in all at once because it was filled with so many sculptures.  Amazing pieces. Way better than anything I had ever done.  When entering the Ceramics Studio you walk right into an open area where all the sculpting takes place.  As I walked through the door I first saw a group of figures Jan Fisher was working on, a group of King Kamehameha and his family. They were half-sized figures, grouped together with the man himself, King Kamehameha, at the front. For a budding artist to see such works in the making, it was awesome. Jan had his back to me and was working on the piece.  He craned his neck around as we entered and I was introduced as a new arrival from New Zealand that wants to be a sculpture student.  Jan was very nice and gave me a brief tour of the studio.  He showed me some pieces he had been working on and told me what various projects students did there. I think I must have peaked his interest as there was a long line over the years of top art students from New Zealand.

My First sculpture in Hawaii: 
Christ in America

For me Jan didn’t generate a desire to create, I already had that, but he did fuel it to much greater heights.  I wanted to create something that would impress, that would be so beautiful--something to add to all the great works I saw in there.  My first project shows that, a small relief I did of Christ in America.  Jan helped me on this, especially the Christ figure.  When I look at it I think of the help he gave me on my first piece. I left the strokes he put on it. It was a good start and was helpful in showing Jan I meant to put forth a good effort and worth the time to teach.

The Masters

Jan wanted us to do great things and so he keyed off and often talked of the great masters.  He showed pictures like Michelangelo’s David, or Rodin’s Thinker.  He told stories and pretended to act out scenes from their lives.

"Michelangelo would come out of his studio,  he’d be all white, covered in marble dust.”  Jan would be standing a little hunched over.  "He’s walking down a narrow street of Florence, totally exhausted." Then Jan would shuffle across the floor, head hanging down. “Some people would be coming up in the opposite direction and there would not be enough room to easily pass by. As they got near Michelangelo he’d say out GET OUTA MY WAY!”  Jan would thunder his voice and swing his arms up. 

“Rodin would be in his studio, trying to decide on a good pose.  His models would walk around his studio completely nude. Rodin would wait and look” Jan would pace around the room imitating a pensive Rodin, his hands in his pockets jiggling his keys. "Then a model would do something, sit down or turn to get something and Rodin would say STOP!” Jan would freeze as he stood, hips sticking forward. “And that’s how Rodin would get his poses!"

For us it was like listening to a preacher in some high roller church. He was very funny too. To other more casual students it was not so enjoyable.  After one such class I was walking across campus with a fellow art student, fully inspired, pumped up from the talk and I asked, what did you think of what he said?  She replied "that was a total waste of time.”  I was dumbfounded. She said she wanted to sculpt but he just kept talking and talking. "We had no time to do anything." I said yes I can see what you mean, I think he had something he wanted to tell us, to know and we are supposed to come in after hours and work on our own stuff.  That was how it worked.

Teaching

Jan’s practical teaching, hands on correcting every student’s problems, had waned by the time I got there.  He was through with babying people through their works and ending up with a bunch of Fisher clones.  He gave advice and talked more, letting the students discover for themselves.  At key moments he did step in and help steer people back in a better direction.  Perhaps this also had to do with the large commission work he was getting which limited his time teaching but since he did all his own work at the Ceramics Studio, it was immensely helpful to see how a working artist got commissions and created pieces for clients.

After two semesters of sculpting I put forth my best effort and created Christ
Healing the Blind Man. Jan was amazed with my progress. I did it all by myself
in the summer with no advice from him. He was proud of what I did and showed
it to other art professors.

Jan always wore nice cloths. Black pants and a nice aloha shirt.  He would pace up and down as he taught. He would sometimes demonstrate, along with a running commentary on what he was doing: "Don’t tickle the clay!  I should have a speaker at the corner of the studio and anytime anyone touches the clay too much the speaker would go hehehehaha" and he would jump around like a monkey as he was making the tickling sound.  

If Jan just got off the phone with some good news like someone wanted to commission him, then he would get really happy. This is when he started talking of bigger things, of creating sculpture the whole world would stand up and take notice of--great sculptures that he and his students would create to glorify God and his kingdom, sculptures for Church buildings and temples, especially the temple at the new Jerusalem and the old Jerusalem. He wanted to make the 12 doors for the twelve tribes of Israel. He could almost taste it.

Happy day for me, a fulfillment of my professor’s wish that his students create
works for temples: the frieze above the Newport Beach Temple doors

Money!

Jan actually did well for himself when I was there, he had many commissions and pieces he sold.  In spite of this he talked to us of money and art. The big discussion for art students was always selling sculptures, getting commissions, and how to do it without, as Jan would say, ‘prostituting’ your ideals in the name of the all mighty dollar. "Money! Money! Jan would say in a deep cynical voice.  His favorite anti-establishment song was Money by Pink Floyd.

As we got out of the temple, Jan
pulls out a $50 note and says, "make
sure you rent a Lincoln Continental,
it’s a smooth ride."

This was in deep contrast to what he actually thought of money, he loved it.  Well maybe not love but it was a great weakness for him and whenever he had it, it burnt a hole in his pocket.  Whenever he would get a good sized commission he had a hard time not being too giddy and spending up large. He was very generous at these times.  He once said that if a beautiful naked lady walked through the door it would not be a huge temptation, but if someone walked in with loads of cash to tempt him, that would be a trial. I can hardly fault him as he was very generous to me and insisted on paying for a honeymoon to Maui for my new bride and I, and I did work for him to buy a very nice ring as well.

What stuck with me was this advice: Create for people who really understand what good art is, not the masses, ‘sculpt for other sculptors.’  It has been good advice but he forgot to say that you will feel good about what you do, receive praise from people who know good art, but most appreciating sculptors have no money, so you’ll hardly get a sale from it!

Fellow Jew and Brown People

Jan already liked me because I was from New Zealand. Of his own personal heritage Jan said he had Jewish blood. Jan thought from my looks and my eastern European heritage that I had Jewish in me too. He called me his fellow Jew. When he told me that I was Jewish too I said really?  He said yes.  I said well all right then. I have never been able to find out for sure if I was Jewish.  From his sisters, I'm not sure if he was Jewish either. His sisters once said to me that "Jan was the only Jew in our family." Jan stuck with this thread. He would ask the question, "who are the best today in every field of art, music or science? Jews, just like you and me". I had no idea what I was, my family history is murky, but if that meant he would take special interest in me and teach me, I would be Jewish. I was his fellow Jew.

A Samoan feast: Jan loved
culture and native peoples

Race was a huge part of it all for Jan.  Many of his sculptures were of Polynesians and their legends. He loved the Polynesians having lived in Samoa and Hawaii for over 25 years. He befriended Polynesians that understood him and adopted him as their own. His arms were tanned from the Hawaiian sun so looking at his own arms, after a while, he thought of himself as Polynesian too.  He would say the biggest shock for him would be each morning when he would look at his face in the mirror and see a white made staring back. Other times his realization of being white was not so subtle.  He related to me one experience when he was walking in Laie shopping center, when the hairs on his neck stood up, his senses became alarmed and a voice said watch out!  He pivoted his head in time to have his cheek grazed by the fist of some big polynesian. With the big Polynesian now off balance, Jan took off running to save himself. Those times for sure he knew he was a Haole (white person). He would say he understood why they (Hawaiians) hated white people after taking away their lands and their dignity.

Other Interesting Stories: Kama Pua'a Pays a Visit

Jan told some amazing stories but none were more amazing than the story he once told us when he was in the middle of creating works for the Grand Wailea hotel.

The Hawaiians have a legend of a pig man, like the native American's wolfman, who could change his appearance from a man to a raging pig.  Jan did a sculpture of the Kama Pu’aa (pig man) for the hotel on Maui. He started off with a maquette for approval.  He had the maquette at his home in Kaaawa.  One time during the day when the house was empty, he went upstairs to take a nap.  While half asleep he heard the sliding door open and a strange sound like cloven feet smacking the linoleum floor.  It could be heard moving around in the kitchen then onto the carpet and the distinct sound of it coming up the stairs.   Ka clop ka clop. Jan said, "oh no it’s coming up here!"  He covered his face with the blanket and refused to see what had just flung open the door to his bedroom and was hoping around his bed. Ka clop ka clop ka clop! Cowering, he said to himself "I’m not looking! I’m not looking!" Eventually the visitor went down the stairs and left.  He later asked a Hawaiian friend what that meant.  He said the Kama Pua’a was coming to see the sculpture you did of him and... he liked it.

A scaled up version of the pig man,
Kama Pua’a approved

The Duke

Third place? Wow not bad!

It is well known now that Jan created the famous statue of Duke Kahanamoku.  I was there at the beginning. One day he came into class (my second from him) and said they want a new statue of the Duke in Waikiki, anyone who wants to put in for it can count it as a class project.  Oh wow!  I wanted to try for it.  There were many art students. The only other student that tried was a senior student, he did a very nice piece. Jan also entered. Jan kept his sculpture a secret from us but helped me with mine, offering small advices. I had my Samoan friend Jerry Amua model for me.  Jan used the art model budget to pay for Jerry’s time. There were a few entires from all over the Western United States. After the judging Jan was announced the winner. Not normal in most commission competitions, but the judges decided to say which other pieces they liked and my piece was judged third best!  I was over the moon.  Imagine, I thought, I came third and I have hardly begun.  When will I have my own commission!!! Little did I know that it would be a hard slog and a few years down the road before it actually happened.

Don’t Change a Note!

A dainty figure of Hina and the Mo’o. Jan would say it
was a Polynesian version of Eve and the serpent.

Sometimes Jan would have me help on real commission projects. On one occasion a larger than life sculpture he was working on Hina and the Mo’o had a big crack developing in the lizard’s tail. Jan had to leave for the evening so he left it to Don Smiler (a past sculpture student) and me to fix it.  Our first approach was to drive spikes into the clay near the crack and repair the break. But as we drove spikes in the crack became bigger until a very big chunk fell off! I said lets do this right and lay in a better support structure with rods and pack in fresh soft clay.  If we try and stick the fallen piece back in, it will just fall out again.  So Don and I went to work and to make sure it was packed good. I had Don slap and pack the clay in with the side of a hammer.  As we got it back to where it was I said... hey stop!  Look at that!  Don stepped back and I said look it looks way better with that texture and the hammer marks in there it looks really good, like the tail is about to move. We were so proud of our work.  I thought it looked better, much better. Jan came in the next day and...it was like how parents feel when their toddler smears peanut butter all over the furniture, he hit the roof!  Me and Don were in trouble, but Don had got there before me and took the brunt so by the time I got there Jan was just mumbling to himself, fixing our mess and quoting from the movie Amadeus, "too many notes?...which ones should I change your majesty?..too many notes?!"




Jan Gets Let Go

The story of Jan’s termination after having him for a teacher for only two years is too long for me to cover in this post. I will say there was a lot of jealousy and dissatisfaction with Jan by both students and other teachers.  I was pretty much oblivious to all the drama, I was too busy being an art student.  One day, just before class, I came into to hear Jan say he was being fired.  It happened just before class so I sat down with the other students. I sat there upright with tears streaming down my face. After class Jan came to me and said it’s okay, it’s not right away, there’s still a little time to teach you before I go. And so it went.  It was a good time, not long enough, but I learnt enough from Jan to last me through those years-the years I had left at school, under new management.  It actually carried me even further than that, it took me about 8 years to figure out what Jan said and all he taught, how it all fitted together.  Once it did sink in, those years later, a light went on in my head and I now understood. With this understanding, with this gift, I felt like I was ready. I now had the confidence to take on the whole world.

The Grand Wailea Sculpture Project

The Royal Hawaiian Family King Kamehameha 

and co. Jan was excited, he had big plans for 

some park with all the royal family.  But later 

when I started taking classes the sculptures 

were gone and he never spoke of the 

project again.

I first came to Hawaii in 1989 to attend Brigham Young University on the beautiful north shore of Hawaii in a small town called Laie. Hawaii is such a wonderful place to go to school, the agreeable climate, beautiful smells, sites and wonderful people everywhere. One truly has a sense of awakening, of coming alive. My senses where further stimulated when I was taken by an art friend to the on campus ceramics studio, the building where all sculpture and pottery took place.  The place was filled with figure sculptures and other ceramics. When entering the ceramics studio you walk right into an open area where all the sculpting takes place.  As I walked through the door I first saw a group of figures Jan Fisher was working on, a group of King Kamehameha and his family. They where half sized figures, grouped together with the man himself, King Kamehameha, at the front. For a budding artist to see such works in the making, it was awesome. Jan had his back to me and was working on the piece.  He craned his neck around as we entered and I was introduced as a new arrival from New Zealand that wants to be a sculpture student.  Jan was very nice and gave me a brief tour of the studio.  He showed me some pieces he had been working on and told me what various projects students do here. I think I must have peaked his interest as there was a long line over the years of top art students from New Zealand.

My First sculpture in Hawaii: 
Christ in America

At that time Jan himself was fairly easy going and would often come to class late and would always talk about a book he was reading and things he was doing with his family.  As the term wound down he got a call from an architectural firm that was in charge of a huge project building a luxury hotel on Maui, The Grand Hyatt Wailea, later changed to the Grand Wailea.  That got him really excited, full of enthusiasm and visions of large sculptures gracing an upscale resort.  In retrospect it was great timing for me.  In these two years he would do a dozen or more larger than life size figures for the hotel as well as three other major commissions. This was ideal for me because I could see the full process of a sculptor vying for commissions, proposals, dealing with clients creating maquettes and ultimately creating the full piece to be molded and cast in bronze. It was a hands on in real time experience.  What was really good for me and all the students was the fact that he did all his work at school in the same classroom we sculpted in so we got to sculpt our own stuff right along side him.

The first sculpture(in the round) I ever 
did in Hawaii was a shark for the 
Wailea Project.

Not only this but Jan was willing to bring me along with him and participate in the work in any way I wanted to. As the school shut down for summer Jan was able to have the ceramics studio to himself.  He let me and another senior student, Brett Garret, work on some of the small pieces he would propose to the architectural firm for the hotel. He had me do a 28 inch tiger shark, very nice of him considering my inexperience.  He guided me and I did the best job I could.  He kept telling me to go study sharks learn all you can about sharks.  At the time I thought what does he mean?  All you need to do is look at a picture and sculpt that.  Now I can see he wanted me to gather as much information as possible and use various pieces of information or whatever insight I had learnt and boil it down into the piece.  But at this time I just thought why do I need to read and look up a bunch of stuff?  I just want to sculpt.

After we had got together some sea life pieces for the architects we took them over to the office to show the people on the hotel project.  He even let Brett and I come to the meeting and carry our pieces in the office.  I had done a shark, Brett a few turtles and Jan a whale or two.  In the meeting I saw Jan present his ideas and see their response. I think I even spoke.

After the meeting Jan was so happy.  We went to MacDonald's and had a small bite to eat. Then he realized he had forgotten his portfolio at the office.  So we drove back there, Brett and I waiting in the car while he went in to grab it.  He was in there for quite a while and we wondered what was going on.  When he came out he was completely different and we drove home in silence.  The next day Brett said we are out, the architects worried out loud to Jan that they wanted good work from him, not inexperienced beginners like me and Brett.  So my shark was out and no longer wanted so I removed it from the ceramics studio. 

These three small sized female figures were not the original maquettes Jan took for
approval, those ones were much smaller.  These ones and the male counterparts
were made to be cast and sold in a gallery.

I hardly went around to the ceramics studio after that for the rest of the summer. At times, it was fun to come in and see Jan working on figures of Hawaiian dancers for the hotel.  He took the maquettes or small models into the firm to be reviewed, we were not invited to those meetings!  It was good for Jan as these ideas and other figures he presented were approved.

The force behind all this, the creation of the hotel and the desire to decorate it with sculptures was a Japanese Billionaire Takeshi Sekiguchi.  The whole project was very expensive, they went all out for this one.  In todays dollar it would have cost easily over a billion dollars. 

The first set of approvals for Wailea were the six Hawaiian dancers, 3 male and 3 female and a mermaid for the front area of the hotel. The deadline for their creation and delivery in bronze made it so that Jan would only have about a weeks clay work on each of the 7 foot figures or 7 weeks to finish them all. Once done, a mold maker would be bought in from the mainland and the molds send to a foundry in California for bronze casting.  With a big budget, Jan was able to hire assistants and models (I could not be hired because I was a foreign student) to pose, weld up the armature and make the oil based clay.  The clay was mixed and made in a steel drum, when cooked to the right consistency it was dumped on a big piece of plywood and allowed to cool a bit.  While still warm and easily pliable, it was taken into Jan who grabbed great handfuls and started slapping the clay to the rebar armature.  Within an hour the whole figure would be blocked up, unheard of speed for such a large project.

I  blocked these three small male figures up and Jan
finished them. He paid me by buying the wedding
and engagement ring for my fiancé. Very nice since
the second alternative for a poor art student was
the rim of a soda pop lid.

Jan worked long hours and had his models pose for him though out this time. For the three females he used pretty much the same person for these and the other pieces he would create.  The models name was Shawna.  She had maybe some Polynesian but seemed more Latin to me.  For the male moldels he used different guys, his son Gary, and Hawaiian name Kenamu and one other.  Sometimes when one male was modeling another would help get the clay cooked.

Jan wanted to have all six pieces going at the same time so when one model got tired he could switch to another sculpture and model. The models wore shorts or bikini.  The figures were first blocked up nude then the closing was added.  Doing them nude first, the figures would have life and proper anatomy coming through even on covered areas. When one walked into the ceramics studio the floor was dominated by this big project. Jan wanted the students, their work, to be pushed and kept over to one small side of the studio.  This seemed a little restricting but to see the sculptures being created was worth it.  One time during the day Jan was working in the studio without a model when the door opened.  Jan was hunched over and did no see the person.  The light came in, there was a long pause, then the door slammed.  Jan figured something was wrong and went to look out and saw the back of a school administration person walking away. It must have got back some how that old Fisher had a much of nude statues in the school ceramics studio. Jan chased down the official and explained his working method and how the pieces were not going to be nude.  Contrast this with my girlfriend, Kelly, who went in and thought the place was so awesome, so I married her! Many students and visitors loved coming in the studio at this time.

Jan did such a good fast job on the work, the architectural firm and even Sekiguchi himself were impressed. They were going to get another artist to do works for the garden/lagoon area but Jan was able to do some maquettes and get to do works for there as well.  He was contracted for 7 more pieces including some Hawaiian legends like the Kama Pua’a.

A scaled up version of the pig man,
Kama Pua’a approved

The Hawaiians have a legend of a pig man, the native Americans a wolfman who could change his appearance from a man to a raging pig.  Jan did a sculpture of him for the hotel on Maui.  He started off with a maquette for approval.  He had the maquette at his home in Kaaawa.  One time during the day when the house was empty, he went upstairs to take a nap.  While half asleep he heard the sliding door open and a strange sound like feet smacking the linoleum floor.  It could be heard moving around in the kitchen then onto the carpet and the distinct sound of it coming up the stairs.   Jan said oh no it’s coming up here!  He covered his face with the blanket and refused to see what had just flung open the door to his bedroom and was hoping around his bed.  I’m not looking I’m not looking he said to himself.  Eventually the visitor went down the stairs and left.  He later asked a Hawaiian friend what that meant.  He said the Kama Pua’a was coming to see the sculpture you did of him and he liked it.

A dainty figure of Hene and the Mo’o. Jan would say it
was a polynesian version of Eve and the serpent.

Like I said I didn’t help that much, being a foreign student, but I did work a little on the pieces if he needed the help. On one occasion a large sculpture he was working on Hine and the Mo’o had a big crack developing in the lizards tail. Jan had to leave for the evening so he left it to Don Smiler and me to fix it.  Our first approach was to drive spikes into the clay near the crack and repair the break.  But as we drove spikes in the crack became bigger until a very big chunk fell off! So i said lets do this right and lay in a better support structure with rods and pack in fresh soft clay.  If we try and stick the fallen piece back in it will just fall out again.  So Don and I went to work and to make sure it was packed good I had Don slap and pack the clay in with the side of a hammer.  As we got it back to where it was I said hey stop!  Look at that!  Don stepped back and I said look it looks way better with that texture and the hammer marks in there, it looks really good.  It looks like the tail is about to move. We were so proud of our work.  I thought it looked better.  Well Jan came in the next day and...it was like how parents feel when their toddler smears peanut butter all over the furniture, he hit the roof!  Me and Don were in trouble, but Don had got there before me and took the brunt so by the time I got there Jan was just mumbling to himself quoting from the movie Amadeus ‘too many notes?...which ones should I change your majesty?..too many notes!’

The final winding up of the project, all the additional pieces were done with great effort by Jan and his helpers.  Interestingly, after shoving all these things through so fast, instead of being installed in time for the opening of the hotel, there were construction delays and the sculptures languished in storage.

My Teacher Jan Fisher’s Beginnings and the Making of the Program at BYU Hawaii

Jan Fisher came to BYU-Hawaii in
1970 to take over the 3D program
and built it to become like no other.

"No man is an island, but it can be a good place to learn to sculpt!"

LeRoy Transfield

In the still hours of the Hawaiian night when the campus was winding down, the ceramics studio was still a hopping place and Jan Fisher was just warming up into his work and his story telling. The sculpture students, a captive audience, could while away the late hour working and listening to fantastic stories, learning about the life and times of our teacher.  He would lean back, thoughtful, then dart in to add clay here or there to his latest big creation. Always in love with whatever he was working on.  On each piece he would say, it is my best piece ever... ever! In tandem with this was constant speaking, talking (“pontificating”, he would say) on one subject after another.  In story telling, when he wanted to emphasize a bit of the narrative he would stop sculpting, turn his head, raise his eyebrows, open his eyes wide, blurt out the punch line and then bust out laughing with a slap of his thigh. Ah ha ha ha! The more interested you seemed, the more encouraged he was to tell the next fantastic story. You need not speak only nod, agree and laugh too. He told many stories about family life growing up, the good and bad times and all the drama. Ever the artist, many of the students agreed that he should have been an actor.

These stories I’ve pieced together. For this account I’m going to keep to his art career and the interesting journey he had at Brigham Young University-Hawaii, pre 1989. In other words this is all the stuff he did, art wise, before I came to BYUH. These stories and accounts are what I heard, understood and remember. They may be tainted by embellishments or misunderstandings in what he said.  I do have a good memory and those times were so epic in my life, how could one forget them. He also repeated a few of his stories saying them in pretty much the same way and details each time. This account I give is also very brief compared to all the stories, the amazing stories, that he told of things. As I write and form this account, many things come back to me, more than I can ever say.  But as I have said, this is a brief description of his art endeavors, challenges and building the program at BYU-Hawaii that I and many other art students benefitted from.

Jan said he was always into art, painting and drawing at first.  He loved doing water colors.  He said he enjoyed the work he did but it was perhaps a little overworked, too detailed and too much time spent trying to capture every highlight on every hair.  It wasn’t until after serving a mission for the LDS Church in Mexico and a time in the army that he was able to devote himself to art as a student at BYU in Provo, Utah.  He didn’t say too much about his painting journey there.  He said his teacher was good at knowing when to step in and help a student that was struggling.  The solution was often to wipe out the painting and start again.  The teacher he spoke of most fondly was his Industrial Design teacher Alexander Darius. Darius gave out no A grades, only one A- and the rest were B+ down.  Jan made sure he was the one to get that A- and worked long hours to prove himself and learnt a great deal when it was over. Even after retiring Jan would visit this man.

After graduating with a BFA in painting he turned to getting a masters degree.  He decided to switch his interest from painting to pottery. In choosing a place to go to school, he searched out the best he could for a teacher, not only that but the best potter in the country that he could find that was teaching. He found such a person in Oakland, California at Mills College, one Antonio Prieto. I do not know much about Prieto other than Jan said he was the best. In order to get into the program, he travelled to California and presented his portfolio and was accepted into the school.  This in spite of the school being (and still is) a women’s only college. He would say he often got his campus mail titled: Ms. Jan Fisher.

Jan Fisher’s pottery teacher at Mills College, 
Antonio Prieto (1912-1967)

He undertook his studies with great zeal and passion.  Prieto was the man who knew and Jan wanted to know everything he was willing to teach. Interestingly Prieto was taught by Pablo Picasso which meant for me that I had a creative line back to a famous artist.  Jan took on learning everything Prieto knew. He became such a proficient learner that he started throwing pots just like Prieto.  Not only that he started acting like him, walking like him and saying things he said.  The other students gave him the nick name the little Prieto. Prieto started getting annoyed with Jan.

Living in the Bay Area, going to an art school in the 1960’s when experimentation in drug use etc. must have been a challenge for a straight up conservative guy like Jan.  He said that he once went to an art show opening and some of the people there started rolling around on the floor naked.  You can imagine how Jan described that one. While the students where preoccupied with this trend, Jan would spend his nights and weekends in the studio creating.  In order to work late he would unlatch a window and when the studio closed down, would come back later through the window and work into the night.

One morning Prieto came in to the studio to find Jan with a huge amount of work on a large table.  That was it for the professor.  He shouted at Jan, look at all this stuff!  There’s no way we’re firing all this, it would tie up our kilns for weeks! Prieto turned to march out.  As he turned away, Jan grabbed the edge of the table and lifted it toward him dumping all the pots on the ground in one great crash. A cloud of dust and debri rolled after Prieto’s heels as he made for the door.  As the cloud of dust settled, having escaped through the door way,  Prieto now peaked his timid head around the corner at a stewing Jan. As Jan would tell the story he would turn his neck side ways, a silent, disbelieving Prieto. It would leave me thinking: wow all that work destroyed, but what a crash!

Jan was failed by Prieto and had to leave the school without his degree.  But that didn’t stop him.   He went to a local college and got his grades up so that he could finish his courses and get his masters degree.  But Prieto had plans to fail him and prevent this.  I’m gonna fail you Fisher!  Jan said he prayed and looked for divine intervention so that he could still make it somehow pass and, like something out of a movie, it happened. Towards the end of term, before the grades were handed out, Prieto was taken ill.  He actually suffered from what Jan called stiff man syndrome and lying in his bed, slowing lost control of his body withered away and died.  All students were given a passing grade, Jan had his degree. Rather a morbid ending but that’s how Jan told it.

After graduating, he had an opportunity to teach seminary in Samoa for about 3 years.  Then he got his job as art professor at Brigham Young University-Hawaii on the beautiful north shore of Oahu.  By the time I got there, 19 years later, there was a good sized facility for 3D art.  But when Jan got there it was just a small shed that Jan added to, pouring cement and building up structures over the years. Working in the summer months, he once built a very large kiln, doing it all with very little or no help from the school. It was mostly from his own resources or free building materials he could find.  He spoke fondly of how he and a Samoan student, Ed Soliai worked to build a brick vaulted kiln with a 30 foot chimney that could fire pieces up to 9 feet tall. It was a very impressive structure.

The interior of the ceramics studio from my day, my male figure in the center. In the background under plastic is the original Manu Hi’i. Behind my male, a Maori warrior by Ken Coffey. The brick  structure behind Ken’s piece is the large kiln Jan built. The open area in the back had more kilns and a bronze foundry which never ran while I was a student.

During that first decade (the 1970’s) at BYUH, besides developing the program and his own art, Jan faced many challenges, most of which I know little about. There was the challenge of keeping his job, going on sabbatical for a year, divorce, remarrying, and the friction he had with his fellow teachers and the administration.  Artistically he did mostly pots and abstract pieces, maybe a little figure work. He would say he liked sculpture but his ladder was up against the wrong wall. When I got there he was all about the figure, not abstractions. In those early years, not withstanding what he preferred, some of his students did do large figure works such as Ken Coffey (a Maori warrior) and Ed Soliai (Samoan Chief) which were still in the studio when I got there. There was a large abstract fiberglass constructed piece I saw that he said nearly killed him because he worked it up without proper protection and landed himself in hospital on his death bed.  He attributes his recovery to a blessing he received while in the ward.  In the early days he threw big huge pots, taller than a person and developed a few different styles of pottery.  One was what he called a multi-chamber pot which was like several pots inside each other joined and the base, then cut down the middle to reveal the different chambers.  He said he got the idea from sea shells.  The other thing that his students were doing when I got there was crystalline glazed pots.  Very beautiful glass-like glazes that had delicate patterns all over the surface.  But by the time I got there he had personally had it with pots.  His saying was 'a pot’s a pot’s a pot.'

One of the pieces that impacted Jan: Moses by Michelangelo.
Jan would say with great passion: "When no one was looking I jumped the barrier, I reached up and closed my eyes and felt the great nose and slowly ran my fingers down his great muscular arm, tears filling my eyes as I went."

Sometime in his teaching he decided to travel to Europe and toured around to see the great art pieces in Italy and France.  He was deeply impressed by Michelangelo and Rodin’s work and came back a changed man.  He now wanted to do figure work.  There was probably more to his metamorphosis but all I really know is he went to Europe and came back wanting to create great figurative art. He built a foundry, for bronze casting, in the back of the ceramics studio.  He also developed methods for creating busts and life-sized figure works for firing in the kiln using water based clay. This method he called the hollow method or pinch method, he had all his students learn and create figures as well. He started to build a body of work of his own and get commissioned work. All of his private commission work was done at the school. It was good for Jan because renting places to create in Hawaii is very expensive and it was good for the students because we could see a more experienced artist at work.  This included the Koloa Monument, a statue to Manu Hi’i, a bust of a prominent business man in Hawaii, a figure riding a horse for St. Louis High School and a Hawaiian bust for Iosepa, Utah and other smaller projects. There may be others that he did before I came, but these I recall the most. Besides this he also did numerous works in clay right along with the students that were fired in the kiln. These included busts and life-size male and female nudes.  The grandest of all these creations was the huge monument to the Sugar Cane workers which was installed in Koloa, Kauai in 1986. He would say, thousands and thousands of man hours were put into creating it.  Although many students helped, he said the primary student that helped him and put in many hours along with Jan was Dennis Stublefield. When he told of what he and Dennis went through to create that piece, of misery, uncertainty, long hours and exhaustion, all I could think of was, I’m glad I wasn’t there!

A happy Jan Fisher on dedication
day of his Koloa Monument

The commission was actually small monetarily, it was not supposed to be as grand as it eventually turned out to be. Jan may have lost money on the whole thing.  But this was his chance to make something special. Once finished, he now had a large monument to his name which helped him get other works, particularly the multiple commissions he got from the Hawaii State Foundation on Culture and the Arts and the Grand Wailea Hotel on Maui. Even though he did many great works through out his career, the Koloa monument was probably his best work. Looking at the castings there are many imperfections, bad pours and low quality finishing work. The Hawaiian’s head is actually solid bronze because the shell broke during the pour (a blow out) and they filled it up. There was no time for a re pour.  It must have been heavy! When it was installed it didn’t even have a proper patina, just the bare sandblasted bronze.  Over the years it has weathered and so that doesn’t really matter now about the patina although some of the imperfections are much more obvious. Understanding and knowing that it was created from such a small budget, by a teacher and his students on the remote north shore of Oahu, with little experience in casting bronze, on a make shift set up...makes the work, the entire finished piece, an absolutely incredible achievement!

Life sized figures of the Sugar Cane workers. Models were student and his second wife Becky, Don Smiler (a maori) was the big Hawaiian(left).  Jaime Mendame, a sculpture student from the Philippines, was the Filipino(right). Other ethnicities are Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Portuguese and Puerto Rican. Above the Hawaiian in the blank area was supposed to be a plantation owner on a horse. Jan hated the idea of including such a figure and after two failed attempts to cast the rider, the owner figure was abandoned.

At this point I can not go on without mentioning an artist that had a great influence on Jan, that he spoke of often and would tell us of art principles and philosophies this artist taught to him; a Samoan artist named Mataumu Alisa, or Mat as Jan sometimes called him. Mataumu was ten years younger than Jan and a student at BYUH before Jan arrived.  Back then Mataumu, a new student from Samoa, was so enthralled with art, did nothing else, that he lost all desire for other academics and was eventually kicked out of BYU-H.  He stayed in Hawaii and went to the Honolulu Academy of Arts where he enjoyed much success, learning and selling his art.  He received work from the State of Hawaii to do large ceramic murals. He later decided to come back to BYU-H in the early 1980’s, a family man, and finish his degree with an eye on getting an MFA and coming back to teach at BYU-H, which after a few years he eventually did.  Despite being an older student, he was well experienced and knowledgeable and fell in with Jan and helped Jan with design problems and gave Jan advice. Jan loved it. His influence can be seen in many of Jan’s pieces from that time period, not the least being the Koloa Monument. Jan would say Mataumu was the greatest living artist and stayed in contact with him for his life.  He went in and out of contact with many friends and relatives, but never Mataumu. It would have been nice if I could have had lessons from Mataumu. Jan tried to repeat some of his words to me as best he could, not as good as the real thing, but I somewhat got the gist of it (hah, maybe not).

A huge influence and mentor to Jan was 
Mataumu Alisa seen here in 1975 with the
beginnings of a mural he did for
Moloka’i High School.

A couple of demonstration busts
Jan made to show the students
how to sculpt their pieces
hallow and fire them.

Before I came Jan had another big commission as well that was halted half way.  He was commissioned by Robert Schuller to create a large bronze fountain for his Crystal Cathedral in California. He had made some progress and had some of the ceramic pieces dipped and ready to pour bronze into when the school shut down his foundry for safety reasons.  He had already received money from Schuller.  Jan tried to install all the necessary devices to make the kiln legal under the new requirements but they could never get them to work right and it bought the whole bronze casting operation at BYUH to an end.  Jan had to pay back all the money he had been advanced.  When I got there I saw the students had cast bronzes at one time, but for the whole 4 years I was there the foundry never ran and it never would again.  All bronze casting Jan did after that was molded in Hawaii and sent to the mainland for bronze casting and then the finished piece shipped back.

The small Manu Hi’i, renditions of Christ, life sized ceramic nudes and the clay sketch for the Robert Wilcox statue

Jan had many faults and problems. People loved him for his passion, being bold and getting things done.  People hated him because he was too bold, said too much and got too many things done which made their lack of productivity uncomfortable. All his art was not the absolute greatest. But he did have flashes of brilliance. He put everything into the tasks he set for himself and all his art students benefitted from it. He never felt threatened by any students that made a good piece of art, he reveled in their success. He was willing to share any insight he had. His enthusiasm was contagious. That is what set him apart among his peers at BYU-H and other programs around the country. This was the stage that was set when I entered the Ceramics Studio as a freshman student in 1989.

Surrounded by sculptures, supplies and equipment, my friend Debi Brown poses for me in the mucky Ceramics
Studio.  Behind her is one of the never to be finished ceramic shells, ready for a bronze pour, for the Robert Schuller fountain at the Crystal Cathedral. Up above to the right on a shelf is my now fired sculpture of my Christ Healing the Blind Man.

The original large kiln fired Manu Hi’i
that was molded and cast in bronze.

Raku firing: Lab assistant Bryan Draper places a red hot pot in a barrel of sawdust. The blast kiln was also used for melting wax out of the ceramic shells for bronze casting. 

A Play About a Sculptor

Play Bill for Cry Tiger

A few years ago I had an interesting opportunity to particitpate in a play about a sculptor, Cry, Tiger!  The play was produced by an art collector and performed in Arizona at the Scottsdale Center for the Performing Arts.  My involvement was that my work was used as the work of the main character, a sculptor. The work I had in my studio was ideal for the play because I had many half finished nudes of all sizes that could decorate the studio as well as the finished work shown. They chose 6 works to use in the play.  Four male figures and two female figures.  One was to be cast in clay so the actor could pretend to work on it.  It was also designed with a removable head.  This was so it could be pulled off during the play and and reattached for the next play.  At a particular time in the play, the sculptor was supposed to become so frustrated that he would yank off the head of the sculpture he was working on.

Before the play began I got a call from the actor, Cliff Smith, who was to play the sculptor. The stage name of the sculptor was Harvey Perlman. He wanted to get a feel for how it is to be an artist and the artist’s life. We had a lengthy conversation. He, the actor, playing me, the real sculptor. At the end of the call I turned to my wife and said, "he doesn’t sound like me!"

After casting and sending all the pieces, I was invited to be flown to the premier of the play. The theatre was full for the opening and I was invited to stand and introduced as the real sculptor of the work in the play. The play was two parallel lives of one sculptor.  The scenes and lighting drift from one side or one life, the married side, to the side where he has no family. In the one life he decides to take a safer route, get married and become an art teacher. In a corner of the stage, or a corner of the house, he works on a sculpture. It was supposed to represent his unfulfilled potential and dashed dreams. In his other life on the other side of the stage, he forgoes marriage, has a relationship with his model and surpasses his teacher. Thus the actors would bounce from one side to the other comparing two paralleled life's and what those decisions produce. To represent a fulfillment of his potential (on the side with no family) they used my Ignominious piece. His teacher stands there in awe of the piece as the sculptor walks in. The teacher says something like, “You have surpassed me!" They lit the sculpture on stage really well with a raking spot light that accentuated the muscles and texture. I was proud of it.

Ignominious, the sculpture that was used in the play as the sculptor's Magnum Opus

Meanwhile in the other life the wife was portrayed as a nag with complaining kids that dragged him down.  A visitor, an art critic, comes by and sees his unfinished sculpture and states that this is the work of someone with great talent.  But the nagging wife never let's up and he eventually grabs the sculpture in frustration and pulls off the head to ruin the piece. His kids are saddened and his sentence of never becoming the artist he wants to be is sealed. He will forever be trapped, a frustrated artist with a family.  

I must admit I couldn’t help but think of something funny as they all stood around him while he sat in a big chair. It really reminded me of the old sitcom Married with Children.

The booklet was descriptive and informative
with a statement from the writer and director
plus information about all the actors.

This sculpture was used in the play.  I cast it in 

oil based clay, roughed it up to make it look 

unfinished and the head removable so the actor, 
during a fit of frustration, could rip it off during 
the play and be restored for the next performance.

The play, which they hoped would become successful and eventually go on Broadway, came out at a bad time, in the midst of the financial crisis of 2008 and 9.  I went to one other showing of the play before leaving, it was poorly attended and I felt bad for the producers and all the people in the play.

It’s not how I would have displayed the life of a sculptor but at least they made an attempt. The main premiss in this play is about a person that didn’t get to do what he wanted to and all the 'what ifs’ that come with life unfulfilled. Perhaps one day I will write a book about my own life as an artist.  I wonder if I can work into the story the time I wrestled a 20 foot alligator?

An Artist for a Dad: The Candy Bomber

During the Berlin airlift of 1948 one pilot became famous as “The Candy Bomber" by dropping small parachutes of candy to German children as he was about to land his plane.  When my kids were little the pilot, Gail Halversen was interviewed on the radio about his experience. Interestingly enough, now long retired, he lived some 20 minutes from us. I wanted my kids to learn about this guy and what he did for those German children.  So the night of the radio interview, we all gathered around the receiver to listen to the show. Usually after such gatherings I would give out treats. But for this gathering I had something special planned.

I had made some parachutes out of plastic shopping bags and attached them to a separate bundle of candy.  Next I got some sound effect music of a prop plane as if it were swooping overhead. Once the radio show was over I made this announcement. "I have been in contact with The Candy Bomber and he told me he wants to bomb our house because you guys listened to the show. In fact he will be here, flying over in about 5 minutes.  Lets all look out the front window and see if we can see the parachutes!”

I had a player set up at the garage door that threw the sound of the plane, bouncing it off the neighbors house so it was hard to hear where it was coming from.  As the kids were looking out the open window I had it cued for my wife to turn on the sound.  As the sound came to it’s climax I tossed the 5 parachutes off the house.  As they came floating down the kids ran out of the house to collect the candy on the front lawn.  It was fun for me to peak over the side from my high perch and see them excitedly pick up the treasures. The best and most rewarding part for me was when my third oldest son, Ricki, picked up his parachute and shot a smiley glance up to see me, his look and expression as if to say, "I see you dad!" Here is a snippet of the sound effect:

When asked about what happened, "Did you hear the plane and did you by chance see it?”, my second youngest, who had a vivid imagination of his own, said he saw the plane, saw the door open and the guy toss out the bundles.  In the years that passed the kids would say to me, “Dad can you ask the candy bomber to come by our house?"  I would get on the phone and say "Hello Candy Bomber? Can you come by my house and drop candy some time?  Yes, my kids were asking.  Oh, this Friday at 5?  That will be great, we will look out for you."

It was fun to have our own unknown.  Most people have Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy.  Linus had The Great Pumpkin.  We had The Candy Bomber.  The older kids knew it was me but my youngest didn’t find out until she was 9 that the Candy Bomber wasn’t real.  One day she came in asking about the Candy Bomber and I said something like, "oh, that was me didn’t you know the Candy Bomber isn’t real?" What! It was a fun time for me as a dad to come up with creative ways to make my kids' lives more interesting.  Without a doubt the Candy Bomber is one of them.

One Little Kid Sitting on the Wall:)

The only photo I have of me as a kid, aged 4.  All the others are lost:(

When I was five I went to school for the first time. Epuni school, Lower Hutt, New Zealand.  Like most kids back then I was quiet and courteous to the other kids in the class.  We all got along well, we were like little adults.  A favorite time there in the classroom with all the other kids was singing time.  We would all sit on the floor and sing songs with the teacher or sometimes another lady would come in with a guitar and we would listen to her sing or sing along.  Young ladies wore short skirts in those days and I can remember her balancing the guitar on one leg and tapping her foot to the beat of the music which made her thigh jiggle.  When you looked in the direction of her playing and singing it was hard for a little kid, low as we were, not to notice this jiggly white thigh.

A more interactive song we sang was when all the kids who wanted to, sat on the edge of a long table. As the song progressed we each in turn fell off the end. It went something like..."ten little kids sitting on a wall, ten little boys sitting on a wall and if one little kid, should accidentally fall....there’ll be nine little kids, sitting on the wall." And down the line it would go until all the kids were gone.  The first time the teacher called volunteers up to sit on the table, a few kids, mostly boys, made for the table. The boys in particular vied for the front of the line wanting to be the first kid. Being in a bad position and not wanting to create a fuss, I found myself at the end of the line.  Well, I came to find out that that was the best position!  As all the kids dropped off it finally came down to where I was the only one left, all eyes were on me.  When it came my time to fall off the girls giggled and everyone laughed as I fell. Thus my entertainment career began. For two more times I made sure I was the last kid.  As I got to the end of the table to fall off, I got better at hamming it up. I would tilt my head and put on a funny face and fling my hands in the air as I fell.  Sure enough I got more of those giggles and even louder laughs from everyone.

The fourth time they called people up for the wall, I did my usual delay tactics so everyone was in positions before I took the end.  But as I sat on the end the kid next to me, Martin, who was second to last, turned to me and said, "I want to be the last". Not wanting to make an issue or let on the last was any better than any other position, I let him take the end.  As the line got shorter I can remember thinking second to last isn’t so bad, it’s almost last.  I should still get some attention.  But when I went off I didn’t get too many laughs at all. Even though he didn’t ham it up near as well as me, Martin got all the laughs and the giggles!

By then it was too late, the other boys had figured it out.  There was a general vying for the last position. I stayed out of it and just took my position somewhere in the line. There was so much jockeying for the last position that the teacher had to step in.  One boy made such a fuss he was removed from the wall altogether, I forgot which boy it was, think it was Martin.

After that the little kids sitting on the wall song was never the same and I even sat out the wall altogether.  But my memory of hamming it up and all the giggles and laughs stayed with me, waiting for another time when all eyes would once again be on...me.

I also discovered at this time that I had a talent for art. Once the teacher gave us an assignment to write a one page story and then, when the story had been approved, to illustrate it on the next full page.  This was out of the question for me owing to my dyslexia,  I could not write even a sentence let alone a whole page.  But as I looked around, all the other kids were busy writing their page.  Not knowing what to do, I decided to look busy by doing the drawing first.  To this day I can still remember doing the drawing.  It was a tree, a big tree that filled the page.  It was done with colored pencils and filled in with a sort of crude hatching and expressive, squiggles I made up on the spot. A bit messing looking, but with some thought and reasoning behind it. As the kids finished their stories and lined up to have it approved by the teacher, I got in line with my drawing. As the line was long it took a little while to get to the sitting teacher. The kid behind me said, “You’re not allowed to do that, you’re supposed to do the story first."  The girl in front defended me so I said to the kid behind something like, "Well I’m doing the drawing first", and turned back. When I got to the teacher she took my book and looked down with an expression of astonishment. Her eyes where full and wide. She jumped up and went over to the other teacher. Then she came back, no expression, initialed it for approval and handed it back to me. That was all she did. Her first look said everything and that she didn’t even ask for the story made my day. 

I looked at my drawing with delight.  The drawing that saved me from writing a story I was incapable of writing. Soon it was recess and all the kids left.  I stayed at my desk and kept looking at the drawing. My brother was near the door and I brought him in to show him my drawing, I was so proud of it. 

I remember one other time when we all sat on this long table, kids on both sides.  We were supposed to draw whatever we wanted.  I drew a fire engine in profile. I was half way through it when three teachers came it. My teacher grabbed my paper and showed it to the other teachers.  They whispered something together and put it back in front of me.

In later years, my teachers were not as admiring and more disdainful that I couldn’t read or spell nearly as well as the other kids. But I always remembered that teacher who appreciated my work, that first year of school, letting me know I had something special in me even if I couldn’t write like the others.  God bless that teacher.

I’m Thankful For This Award

As a freshman art student at Brigham Young University in Hawaii, I was able to make my way there as a sponsored student of the school. There were no loans available to me so in order to pay my way as much as possible, I would work 20 hours a week at a student job for $4/hour.  The money for room and board was automatically taken out of my pay. If I did not meet the fee then all my money would be taken except $2. Being a foreign student I couldn’t make that up by working off campus so for the next two weeks I would have to sometimes live on a $2 pay check.  I had three meals a day in the cafeteria and a place to sleep in the dorms.  I would use the $2 to make quarters and wash my clothes.

As a poor student you could imagine my excitement when I was one day walking back from the library and saw a flyer on the student notice board that read something like this:

Student Talent Show

Sponsored by ASBYU

1st prize $100

2nd $50

3rd $20

My eyes popped out at the $100. I must have mouthed the words slowly: one hundred dollars!  My blood started pumping and I became so excited, a hundred dollars. I walked away and came back and looked, it was still there. I looked around to see if other people saw it. One hundred dollars, I want that hundred dollars.  Then a doubt crept in, maybe your act won't quite be good enough, $50 or $20 is good too. No, no, no, first prize, a hundred dollars and I can do it!

The reason I was so excited was because I did have an act of sorts-puppets.  My mum introduced them to me and the family when I was a teenager.  My mum said the puppets really came alive when I operated them.  My brother and I would do the odd birthday parties to earn money.  Later when my brother was gone I continued doing it for some events like at shopping malls, even once on New Zealand national TV for a telethon fund raiser. Even though as a student I brought very little belongings with me to Hawaii, I did bring my puppets just in case an occasion called for their use and here it was.

I planned to do two brief acts, a guitar-playing Elvis singing Jail House Rock and a Michael Jackson puppet dancing to Beat it.  My mum put most of the puppets together and I did most of the work on the Michael Jackson puppet.  He was the darker Michael Jackson from the early 80’s. There was some preparation involved, I had to make a sturdy stage barrier to crouch behind and a little drum set for the drummer. My friend Brett, an art student also, was the drummer.

When it came time to do a dry run with no audience, the night before the show, my act went well.  After getting up I could see from the other participants' expressions who saw the act that I had something there, the puppets looked good.  That was one of the drawbacks of being a puppeteer.  You could never see the audience reactions as it was happening and by the end of the performance your arms and shoulders burned from the exertion of having them up for so long.

The night of the performance the place was packed, 350 people in the auditorium as well as people standing along the sides and back.  The organizers saw I had a good act and put me near the end of the line up. I felt sorry for the other performers because there were people there with real talents, dancing, musical instruments and thoughtful songs. I was going to try and upstage them with a glorified sock puppet and some Michael Jackson music and in the end, I did. 

The jovial crowd, mostly BYU-H students, were ready for some fun, a big laugh and a slap on the thigh.  The Jail House Rock song was a good warm up.  They laughed and clapped along to the music. 

Video As it Happened "Jail House Rock" Performance

 Right after that was done I had no time to rest my arm and quickly switched to Michael Jackson. We had it cued so that when the first beat played, a puff of talc (from the ceramics studio) would come up and out of the puff would rise Michael Jackson, his back to the crowd and then slowly turn around.  Everything went off perfect. As I turned him around and started the dance the crowd went absolutely wild. The noise was so loud. If Michael Jackson himself had stepped on stage the roar wouldn’t have been any louder. It was to a fever pitch. People laughed, screamed, and clapped. I could hear it all. It was so loud, in fact, I had a hard time hearing the music. Every now and then I would hear a faint din of a beat that was enough to tell me where I was in the song. I had to concentrate. My arm was really burning at the end but I made it though, carried by the crowd and the rousing reception. 

When the act was over we slipped our stuff behind the curtain stage and moved away.  I tried to look down and have a business like expression as if to say, well got that done.  I looked like that so as to not make the other performers feel bad by seeing me look boastful. When we got to the side, behind a curtain, I let out a big smile, patted my friend on the shoulder and said in almost a whisper, we won!

During the 1980’s Michael Jackson won a lot of Emmy wards.  He would get up there with his high voice and give a gracious speech.  I was ready. When they called my act as the winner, I came out on stage. Everyone got to see the skinny Maori boy behind the puppet.  I came out with the Michael Jackson puppet to give his speech.  They put the mic to my mouth, I turned the little guy to the audience and in my Michael Jackson voice, the puppet spoke; "I’m thankful for this award.  I'm thankful for all the people that supported me and made this possible and ...I...I just want to say thank you....” and he took a little bow.

For the next three days I was famous.  As I walked around campus people would look at me and nudge their friends and look over.  Some would say hey great act.  I didn’t make any actual friends from it, just notoriety from a distance. After three days the fame faded and I was back to regular freshman art student LeRoy. The money lasted a little longer, but not much. What did I do with it?  I gave some to my friend for helping and the rest I spent on art supplies, Pacman and chocolate bars.  

The recording of the live Michael Jackson act did not go well because of the noise and the glare from his mirror glasses.  They taped his glasses black and I did the whole thing again at the BYUH TV studio. They played the performances that week on the campus-wide TV news segment.

I entered a new act and won the next talent show and got more money.  The one after that I didn’t even place and felt that the well was tapped out and never performed in front of a large crowd again.  I could have pursued it but wanted to be an artist, a sculptor, not a performer. Perhaps one of my kids or grandkids will pick up a puppet and carry it on. When I’m out some place and hear the familiar beat of that Michael Jackson song, I see a puff of talc, the crowd goes wild and my little puppet does his thing. 

Video "Beat It" filmed in studio