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PrintTulsaPeople Q&A: Rosalind Cook
Sculptor
Rosalind Cook with two examples of her work — “Windy” and “Water Lily” — in her studio.
If anyone tells you that Rosalind Cook is a sculptor, don’t believe it.
True, her sculptures are all over Tulsa, in gardens and parks.
Sure, she has created 67 life-size or monumental works that stand in 55 public locations across the country.
Yes, she has created and sold more than 83 sculptures, including small pieces in private locations.
But she is not a sculptor. At least, not only a sculptor.
Rosalind Cook is also a teacher, scholar, businesswoman, anatomist, storyteller and philosopher; not to mention she has a vast knowledge of kinesiology.
On a tour around her studio, she took me from piece to piece as she talked about her art and career. Through it all, she fizzed with joy and energy. This petite woman is much like the bronzes she creates — pretty and sparkling on the surface, steel underneath. This is the combination that makes enduring art.
Were you always interested in the arts?
I always loved art, even as a little girl. My grandmother and mother were hobby painters and both encouraged me in art. I dabbled, mostly in oil. I grew up in Taft, Texas, a small town with a small school — only 49 of us in my high school graduating class. We had no arts at all in junior high or high school. I wanted to major in art in college, but Daddy said I needed to be able to support myself, so I got a degree in special education from The University of Texas. And loved it.
How did you go from that to making 8-foot bronzes?
I quit teaching when I was pregnant with my first child and was so bored I took a sculpture class. It was the “aha” moment of my life. I was absolutely hooked on working three-dimensionally in a deeply emotional way. I never picked up a brush again.
It was a hobby that grew into a career?
More than a career — a calling. First, though, my family — raising our three children — was a priority. Then I kept saying, “Someday I want to sculpt,” until a good friend got tired of my talking about it and told me, “This is a gift. You have to take yourself more seriously.” So I crossed Tuesdays and Thursdays off my calendars and on those days I focused on sculpting.
You taught yourself?
No. I sought out good teachers. When people say, “I’m a self-made artist,” or, “I’m a self-made anything,” that’s a crock. Everyone has help.
How did you learn to create such realistic figures?
When I began sculpting, I made figures of children out of terra-cotta clay. When I wanted to do figurative work, I studied anatomy for two years. A massage therapist worked with me, using a skeleton. One body part at a time, I built the muscles out of clay. I know the origin point, insertion point and function of every muscle in the body.
That’s what makes your sculpture so lifelike, isn’t it?
You have to be accurate. You can’t fake it. For a skirt, you can’t just make a triangle and have two legs sticking out. You have to see the body underneath. When I teach portraiture, I have them first make the bones and skull and then put the muscles on. I love to teach. It’s both an honor and a duty.
With all the motion in them, isn’t it hard to balance some of your pieces?
Yes! Look at this (the model of “Celebrating the Arts” that stands in front of Harwelden, home of the Arts and Humanities Council of Tulsa; the sculpture is a 7-foot minstrel playing a flute and dancing on the ball of his foot on a 3-foot botanical form). This is one of my favorites. If you ran a plumb line from the sternum, it would hit the inside ankle of the weight. I love kinesiology — how the body moves.
Tell me about this piece, “Breaking Free” (a small piece, 28 inches high, depicting a woman with a scarf dancing joyfully).
This is one of my favorite pieces. It is the piece that most represents me. We all break free of something, sometime. This represents the joy of being free of the “ought-to-bes” and “should-bes.”
You create a lot of dance pieces. Are you a dancer yourself?
Oh, no. Dance class made me nauseous. I always threw up in ballet class when I was a little girl.
Spiral movement is a key element in your work, especially in “Poems and Promises,” isn’t it? (This is the new life-size figure recently dedicated in the Anne Hathaway Garden in Woodward Park.)
It’s a sculpture of a young woman sitting peacefully and reading a book of poetry, but the swirling hair and twisted body and tree trunk give it motion.
Tell me about your one abstract piece, “Madonna of the Storm.”
This is my most emotional piece. Friends of mine — a grandmother and child — were killed in a plane crash. I came into the studio sobbing and I made three models. I chose the one with the most motion. It’s all S-curves. See how the robe and veil are whipped by the wind. But see how the infant is carried by a spirit stronger than the tumult.
Faces are another striking characteristic of your work.
My goal is to capture the spirit of my subject — joyful, peaceful, animated, whatever. (She moves to another piece.) Here is Noah — a pot-bellied old man. A dove has alighted on his hand and he is at peace because he knows the storm is over. Now, look at this Inca woman — she’s old but strong. She has big hands and big feet. She sits confidently.
This Pueblo dancer, this Native American woman — you do quite a lot of ethnic figures, don’t you?
I was born in Peru. My father managed a million-acre ranch. Spanish was my first language. We moved to Texas when I was 7.
The Madonna you did for Catholic Charities (“The Poor Virgin of Nazareth Who Holds in Her Hands the Wealth of the Nations”) looks so young.
She was only about 16, you know. It was commissioned by Bishop Edward Slattery, and his directions were that the Blessed Mother was to be feminine, historically accurate and, most of all, accessible. Here’s a tip from the masters: To make a piece more accessible, have a foot extended off the base. That invites you in. Just look at the sculptures of the saints. Oh, there is so much more to sculpture beyond making a pretty piece.
How long does a piece take to make?
I worked on the Madonna for almost a year. From clay, a mold is made and shipped to the foundry, where it’s cast in bronze using the ancient, lost wax-casting process. A piece is at the foundry for three or four months with someone working on it every day. That’s why bronzes are so expensive. They’re labor intensive.
Would you like to work in other art media?
If I had more lifetimes, I’d like to design jewelry. And weld big pieces. But, if you’re going to be good at something, you can’t be so diverse.
What advice would you give aspiring artists?
Not to put off their dreams. Don’t wait for Someday. If you have a dream, be intentional about it. Make time to write or learn French or whatever you want to do. You only have one life and it’s so darn short.
Any special advice for women artists?
Women are nurturers. We don’t give ourselves permission to pursue our dreams. It’s not going to happen if you don’t make it happen. We are better wives, mothers and people if we fulfill our desires.
What’s the best advice you ever received?
My mother told me, “Flattery is like chewing gum — enjoyed but never swallowed.”
