MOST Profile: A sculptor's vision

From unassuming theatre work to artistic
prominence. The creative force behind some
of the country’s most celebrated sculptures.


More than one motorist has done a double take, driving along Bleams Road between Mannheim and New Hamburg, west of Kitchener-Waterloo. There amidst prime Wilmot Township pasture land is a small parkette, the feature of which is an impressive bronze sculpture. The work, entitled “Leap of Faith,” depicting two children, arms raised to the sky is the creation of Baden-area sculptor Ruth Abernethy, one of Canada’s busiest and most celebrated artists.  
From early childhood, Abernethy knew her path in life would lead her towards creating beautiful things. But as she matured, sculpting was the least of her artistic preferences. “What appealed to me was a career in the theatre, building sets or making props,” she recalls. For a time, she did just that, working for several Canadian theatre companies, including Toronto’s Tarragon Theatre, the Stratford Shakespearean Festival, the Shaw Festival and Theatre Manitoba. Along the way, she acquired a skill in sculpting character faces and wondered if she could make a living as a sculptor. Unexpectedly, in 1996, Aberneˆthy got the chance to find out.
The Stratford Festival was in the midst of a major fundraising venture, and its top brass had conceived an idea. It saw a small sculpture created, which would serve as a fundraising marker. The piece would commemorate the raising of the tent that had served as Stratford’s interim playhouse in its first season. Knowing of Ruth Abernethy’s abilities from her earlier work in the Theatre’s Props Department, one administrator approached her with an invitation to take on the project.
The offer was a plum; the timeline to create it– less than a week– was certainly not. “I was absolutely crazy to have agreed to it, but I did,” she admits. Abernethy burned the midnight oil, and the figures of two workmen raising the tent’s centre pole, and a small girl, watching from the sidelines were completed on time.
Such was the favourable reception to Abernethy’s work that Stratford commissioned her to create a grander and weather-hardy bronze sculpture to sit outside the main Festival Theatre doors. The work propelled Ruth Abernethy to artistic prominence, and with this acclaim, her phone began to ring. “So I guess I was a sculptor now,” she laughs.
Since this auspicious debut, Abernethy has rarely been between commissions. Working out of a basement studio in the Wellesley-area home she shares with husband Mark Smyth and sons Glen, 16 and Alex 14, Abernethy has been the creative force behind some of Canada’s most recognizable sculptures. Working with a band saw to cut the styrene which serves as the “core” of most of her works; her favourite “killer knife” to roughly shape the modeling clay, and a few sculpting tools to define details, Abernethy’s most important tools are her hands. “And these I take good care of,” she assures.
Some of this country’s most recognizable works have been created with those hands. One, commemorating the late Canadian actor Al Waxman, the “King of Kensington,” welcomes visitors to the Kensington Market district of Toronto. Another, of golfing legend Arnold Palmer, resides at Weston Golf and Country Club, where Palmer had his first professional golf victory. The likenesses of equestrian Ian Miller, and famed Canadian thoroughbred, Big Ben are proudly displayed in Perth, Ontario, Miller’s hometown.
Abernethy’s impressive body of work speaks not only to her high level of artistic skill, but to her ability in evoking a spiritual presence in her subjects. No mean talent for an artist working in styrene, steel and fiberglass. Abernethy’s intuitive gift is hauntingly evoked in her sculpture of celebrated Canadian pianist, the late Glenn Gould. She calls to mind her four-month long “relationship” with the reclusive virtuoso:
“In life, Gould was a deep and complex figure, and I felt that I must create a sense of who he was, spiritually, in the work.” In order to achieve this state of mind, Abernethy studied many visual representations of the pianist, and auditorally immersed herself in Glenn Gould. “While I worked, I’d listen to his music or tapes of him giving a public lecture. It helped me to know who he was, as a musician and as a human being.” The impressive work of Gould, seated on a park bench, now sits outside the CBC’s Front Street Toronto offices.
Still, Abernethy cautions, not all memories of “living with Glenn” are idyllic. Poor setting of the rubber mold used over the figure’s face spelled disaster for her. “When I pulled the mold off, pieces of the face, including the eye came right out.” Luckily, she was able to salvage the work before it was shipped to the foundry for bronze casting.
Creating a sense of “the human” in the inanimate has guided Abernethy in other commissions. In 2003, Kitchener Collegiate Institute’s principal Jim Rodger contacted her with an invitation to create a work for the school’s 150th anniversary. The subject would be K.C.I.’s most famous former student, and Canada’s 10th Prime Minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King.
Abernethy chose to depict King as that student, wearing schoolboy garb, sitting on grass outside K.C.I.’s King Street entrance. The informal posture has occasionally invited fond concern during inclement weather. “In the winter, ‘Willie’ is occasionally spotted with a Tim Horton’s coffee cup in hand, or wearing a toque and scarf,” Rodger volunteers.
Work comes to Abernethy, as it does most working artists in two ways. Invitations from an individual or organization to create a work of art are, not surprisingly, viewed by artists as “manna from heaven.” Responding to general calls for mass submissions is more common. Time-consuming and often disheartening, these “cattle calls” can also prove to be rewarding. Such was the case for Abernethy with the “Bondi Beach installation.
Annually this Australian site, famed as the beach volleyball venue during the 2000 Sydney Olympics, is transformed into an artist’s haven. Sculptures from around the globe are displayed on the scenic cliffs that tower above the beach. Among the thousands of artists world-wide who applied for an opportunity to show off their work, Abernethy was one of only 125, and the first Canadian ever, selected to participate.
Her contribution was three intricately designed and fashioned metallic shoes. The three-dimensional concept called on a wide range of skills to create them, including laser cutting and welding. Abernethy began the project at home, shipped it to Australia and completed it there, with the assistance of husband Mark. This labour paid benefits, as her shoes sold the second day of the festival, and she was invited to return.
Abernethy finds difficulty stating which of her works is her favourite, but volunteers that some are infinitely more fun to create than others. Her Franklin the Turtle and Friends tableau for the Toronto Parks Department, Centre Island easily fills the top spot. The commission also gave her an opportunity to sneak in a wee bit of Waterloo Region “lore.”
“If you look closely on the spine of the book that Franklin’s friend Goose is reading, you’ll see it is: ‘Tales of North Wilmot,’” she reveals. This “in-joke” is a reference to the small rural elementary school north of Baden which her two sons attended.
Successful and fulfilled in her chosen field, Abernethy advises that making a living as an artist in Canada is still an elusive goal. In addition to possessing a creative bent, and a solid technical ability to execute it, she notes that top-notch communication skills and clarity regarding cost, completion time and appearance of the finished work are paramount in ensuing satisfaction on both sides. “Nobody has yet figured out how to bronze good intentions,” she laughs. 

By
Nancy Silcox