Artistic Biography of Randolph Torres

Randolph Torres - Resume Roots/Personal My wife, Diane, and I have two sons and four grandchildren. I am a native Californian, the third of six children in my family. My father was a Teamster and my mother, a homemaker. I am primarily of Puerto Rican descent. Most of my family still lives in Northern California. My eldest brother, Frank Jr., died in action in Viet Nam in 1964 when I was 13 years old. Link to Torres Family Fun

Grammi and the 4 little people.

As an artist, I am self-taught. My home is my studio.

In school, the only subjects I enjoyed and excelled in were geometry and woodshop.

When my eldest brother, Frank jr., was in high school, he made a set of bongos using "coopering". It would be years before I would discover the meaning of that word. Every time I looked at those bongos, I wanted to make a pair. Maybe that is what planted the seed for my future work as an artist.

From the age of 14 to 50 I did not do much woodworking, but every day I thought about it. Without realizing it at the time, those years formed my "mental woodworking phase". I could not pass a building or a nice furniture piece without giving it a good critique and redesigning the elements that did not appeal to me.

I wanted to get into a trade school, but though I had scraped through 12 years of school, I only had the equivalent of a second grade education. My first step was to get my GED. An uncle helped me get into the Ironworkers' Union. Getting my GED and working my way through the apprenticeship were the most difficult and grueling experiences of my life. It was extremely humbling, that just as I was starting to use my mind so late in life, the Ironworkers had me in college taking basic structural engineering classes. For me, this required many, many more hours of work and study than was "normal". With perseverance and hard work, I was able to complete the apprenticeship. I was proud of my accomplishment and I wanted my sons to understand that with a strong work ethic anyone can reach his goals. Graduate's spouses were the only ones invited to be at the graduation ceremony. I was terribly disappointed that my sons were not allowed to attend.

During the apprenticeship program, my mind woke up. I call it The Awakening. I was 29 years old and starving for an education. I needed to make up for lost time. Knot-making was an important step in the apprenticeship program and was the first thing I craved to know. I carried a rope with me for two years, practicing knots at every opportunity. I got to know the craft so well that the Ironworkers wanted me to do an apprentice video on knots. I discovered, for instance, that some knots like the bowline can be tied six different ways! After I learned about 150 knots, I went on to invent 125 new ones. I still call myself a "rope smith"!

It was during my knot-making period that I discovered that if I study something long enough, I will reach a point where everything finally comes into focus and then the clarity overwhelms me. I liked learning so much that I went through two more apprenticeship programs becoming a journeyman in three trades: Ironworker, HVAC Technician (Commercial Field Hand), and Stationary Engineering.

My passion for woodworking was rekindled while I was working for the Academy of Arts in San Francisco as a Stationary Engineer. I enrolled in one class there: furniture construction . This course was designed to take the students from the thinking world into the real 3-dimensional world. It was here, while studying furniture joints, that I discovered and taught myself "coopering" and learned the basic skills to move forward.

It then took me another 5½ years to learn the processes involved. I learned those processes by making proofs. Geometry and coopering are reflections of each other. For the more complicated plane geometry, I use a deeply intuitive thought process that I cannot explain. Once I have a basic design in my head, I try to render a solution using both geometry and common sense. From there it has to be "proofed". That's where I prove that a particular shape can be made. During the proving process for a particular piece, the construction process reveals itself, step-by-step. The initial proofs are 3D partial proofs, such as a sectional view or a single element of the piece. The next logical step is the fully-rendered piece.

1. Visualizing the project is the first step. It does not work for me to follow the usual practice of drawing out a complete plan before actually working with the wood, so I work without plans. I might occasionally make a rough sketch but only to clarify an issue that I cannot clearly picture in my imagination. I do sometimes play around with the program 3D Pro to help me visualize how new shapes look in 3D space.
2. Working directly on the wood is the second step. The craftsman who works with plans knows what each step is going to be from start to finish. I do not. As I mentioned before, the construction process begins to reveal itself to me one step at a time. If I reach a block where I cannot determine how to proceed technically or artistically, I shelve the piece where I can see it all the time. I believe the brain is problem-solving, working on many different levels regardless of what we are doing at the time. Then I move on to the next project for a while. I usually have ten or more projects going on at once.

I learned the finish for my artworks at Diablo Woodworks, a woodworking guild.

While I was commuting on Bart from the East Bay to my job at the Academy in San Francisco with my art pieces, people would express interest in my work, commenting on them and asking questions about my other projects. When I took home my first large coopered vase, I was mobbed by curious passengers who wanted to know where they could buy one.

The first time I showed my work in public, was when a friend invited me to share his booth at a Home and Garden Show. Many people stopped and talked about my work and encouraged me.

One lady expressed concern that if I didn't hire an apprentice, the processes could be lost if something happened to me. Even a no-sale experience can provide gobs of good research if one listens well.

I work with so many processes that, if I were to print them out, they would cover 60-70 pages. I am continually developing (or rediscovering) new ones. For example, one process that I developed, utilizes all the wood. There is no waste. I engineer each piece for glue-up joints and will never use staples, screws, nails, or brads. Even glue-ups have to be reinvented. It is a long and complicated process. I would like to keep most of my processes as trade secrets. It will give me a leap ahead while my customer base is growing. The name I have given our company, Coopered Patterns, defines my style of art. It is a combination of two old, lost woodworking trades done by cooper smiths and pattern makers.

I am headed in two directions: commercial art-the vessels-and sculpture. Both of these, of course, are sculpture but I consider this a good way to separate the two.

I expect that the list of processes and materials I use will grow and that my art will evolve over time as I continue to replicate the beautiful shapes found in nature, in our environment, and in glassware, ceramics, metal smithing, and castings.

I discovered and taught myself "coopering" when I was taking a class at the Academy of Arts in San Francisco. I spent the next 5½ years learning and developing the various processes that I use in my sculpture. Once I have envisioned a basic design, I begin to render it using both geometry and common sense in an intuitive process that I cannot explain. The construction process reveals itself step-by-step.

It does not work for me to follow the usual practice of drawing a complete plan for a project before actually working with the wood. For me, the creation of a particular project begins with working directly with the wood from the pattern that I have formed in my mind. If I reach a block where I cannot determine how to proceed technically or artistically, I shelve the piece where I can see it all the time, so that I can mentally continue to work on it as I move on to another project. I usually have ten or more projects going on at once.

I have invested thousands of hours continually developing and rediscovering new processes and designing and modifying templates, sleds, and tools. I engineer each piece for glue-up joints and never use staples, screws, nails, or brads. One process that I discovered utilizes all the wood; there is no waste. Creating a completed work is a long and complicated process.

I am headed in two directions: commercial art—the vessels—and sculpture. Both of these, of course, are sculpture, but I consider this a good way to distinguish one from the other.

I expect both the processes and the materials that I use will expand and that my art will evolve over time. I will continue to replicate the beautiful shapes found in nature and in our environment.

As my art evolves over time, I will continue to interpret the beautiful shapes found in nature and our environment, as well as in glassware, ceramics, metal-smithing, and casting. My goal is to combine more exotic woods, and incorporate stone, glass, tiles, and nonferrous metals into my pieces.

The name of my company, Coopered Patterns, truly defines my style of art. It is a combination of the two old woodworking trades of cooper smiths and pattern makers.