Steven Whyte

Carmel’s Steven Whyte has done some big things, and a lot of them. His sculptures include a life-sized elephant (at Tufts University) and The War Hymn project, the largest bronze sculpture at any stadium at the U.S. (for Texas A&M). His public installations number nearly 50. But none has generated as much of a stir as his most recent public work, his Column of Strength sculptures of the “comfort women,” now up in San Francisco, honoring the Japanese Imperial Army’s sex slaves of World War II (from occupied countries like Korea, China and the Philippines). Survivors were among those who attended an unveiling celebration in September; last week, Osaka Mayor Hirofumi Yoshimura dissolved its sister-city relationship with San Francisco in protest of the statues.

These days Whyte welcomes more visitors to his new gallery-studio space in the Barnyard Carmel than ever, and he also welcomes dialogue about what makes his work powerful.

Weekly: What’s the easiest way to describe what you do?

Whyte: I make clay people.

The most esoteric?

As a figurative sculptor, I am creating characters. They may be current or historical figures, or something entirely of my own design, but my goal is to make sure these figures become catalysts for conversation. My work is never complete until it has interacted with another individual who can respond to it. It’s in this interaction the sculpture is truly created.

Why do some artists have egos?

They believe their own hype. In reality, the life of an artist is a risky one. It’s the furthest thing from a secure career. By deciding to become an artist you are separating yourself from most other professionals and – in order to take that step – you have to believe you have enough talent or enough of a point view to make it worthwhile. Then, in order to have success you have to make other people believe that, and that means you have to build yourself up.

What’s the best unconventional advice for young artists?

It’s a job – treat it like one. Don’t act like because you can draw, paint, whatever, you don’t have to work hard. And don’t assume if you have one good year you’re bound to have better and better years.

Why are you a low-key guy?

I try not to take my work too seriously, while always trying to work as hard as I can. The business is still small enough that no one is going to get rich working for me. [But] what I can give them in exchange is a working environment that is relaxed and creative and where quality of work is valued above formality. Frankly, no one would take me seriously if I tried to be fancy in my uniform of Walmart T-shirt and jeans and baseball cap.

How did Column of Strength differ from your previous work?

This was such a unique project in so many ways. First, it was an extremely difficult and controversial subject. I’ve never worked on a project where there was so much resistance. We received thousands of emails, some of which were pretty threatening. Also, the subject is horrifically sad and it was a challenge to come up with a design that communicates the suffering of these women, and also speaks to resilience, while providing the city of San Francisco with a beautiful piece of art.

Adding to these complications, it was technically challenging: Each figure needed be of a very specific race, which needed to be identifiable. We were lucky to find local models from the Central Coast. In the end, it was one of my favorite parts of the process. Hearing these girls talk about how they had heard about the comfort women from their grandmothers and how proud they were to be involved in this project instantly brought to my attention how important it was going to be. At that moment I knew we would be on the right side of history.

How central is your English bulldog, Lord Wellington, to your work?

As any dog owner will tell you, the companionship is incredible. I can stay late sculpting and never feel alone because he’s always there. More practically, he has his own fans and collectors. We credit him for about $88,000 in sales.

VISIT WHYTE’S GALLERY at Suite A22, The Barnyard, Carmel. 620-1917, stevenwhytesculptor.com