Redemption and the Art of Michael Rathbun

by Cynde Randall

[to Redeem - to recover, to exchange, to fulfill, to make up, to set free, to save]

The evolution of the soul is understood by enlightened individuals across time and culture, to be a primary purpose of human life. Authentic reflection of this process typically comes after the passage of youth. Perhaps this is especially true in contemporary American culture, where soul work is confounded by many forces.

In the realm of art, commerce, aesthetic fashion, "history", and theory create many obstacles and expectations that perambulate the young artist. And activists and academics, alike, have attached an extensive list of social and political agendas to the occupation of artist.

And, yes, it is true that our world is fragmented, some say in crisis, with essential spiritual and ecological questions ignored and unanswered. It is a time of great paradox. It is a difficult time to be an artist. What are we to do? Where is God? Does art really matter? Can it be a vehicle for our redemption?

These are among the thoughts and questions that I considered as I searched to discern the process and meaning of Michael Rathbun's life. They are his questions as well. Their contemplation led me directly to a clear understanding that redemption is a defining force for Rathbun the sculptor, the teacher, the husband, the father, the son, and the brother. This man, who I first came to know in 1996 when he installed a project at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, continually works to reconcile himself with the life that he has been given.

Even as a child he was most concerned with the essence of things * the big idea of things. He worshipped Jacques Cousteau, he dreamt of being in the Olympics and of becoming a marine biologist; of becoming someone who would push himself beyond his own potential. His father, a minister and social activist, instilled in Rathbun an intense regard for personal integrity. Rathbun learned early on that it really mattered how you live your life. In college he realized that making sculpture could be a direct and immediate way to get at the big ideas. He credits his father for grounding his faith in the transference between the physical and the spiritual and indeed for his appreciation of sacred objects.

As an artist, Rathbun (b. 1964) hit the ground running in 1995. It could be said that he came into his own power very early on, an occurrence linked quite directly to his first major artistic crisis. Several months before his MFA exhibition, Rathbun concluded that his work was truly pointless, that his art "just looked like sculpture". He realized intuitively that he needed some life changing event to shake him free, if he was ever really going to be an artist. He made up his mind to make a solo voyage across Lake Michigan. Dramatic enough for anyone, but Rathbun was no sailor (although family legend had it that Rathbun was a descendent of the famous pirate, Sir Francis Drake). Not only would he learn to sail, but he would build his own boat.

He found the guidance he needed with friend and artist, Guy Baldwin who provided the building plans and taught Rathbun how to handle a boat. He followed the plans judiciously and spent a semester building what he knew would not be just a sculpture. Rathbun christened the boat "Mary Ann", for the steam shovel on the book Mike Mulligan (a tattooed image of the steam shovel marks the arms of Rathbun and his brothers, Russell and Matt).

In April of 1995 Rathbun set sail and alone on the great lake experienced the direct unleashing of his own potential. His pivotal adventure across 35 miles of water brought him directly in line with his own fear "I was scared to death" says Rathbun. His epiphany came through facing his fear and through the grace of the universe, crossing to the other side unharmed. He made a very conscious decision that from that point on his work would be about what is real.

When he returned to Minneapolis he set out to capture the essence of his trip in a site specific installation. He proceeded to fuse the physical with the spiritual in a massive wooden sculpture 35 feet long, 14 feet wide and 11 feet high. Its base was a sea of 2" x 4"s that rose and fell like water, from one end of the work to the other. Riding the waves was a skeletal boat that was connected to a giant interlocking universal joint "that beautiful form that allows a flexible spinning shaft to transform one kind of energy into another" he says. In turn, the u-joint was attached to a large wooden oar at the far end of the sculpture. He named the piece for the longitude and latitude coordinates of the sculpture, which pinpointed its exact position on earth.

In 1996 Rathbun was awarded a one-person show at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. He pre-fabbed this new work in an unheated studio across town during a wicked stretch of 40 below zero temperatures, weather so cold that if your car broke down your life was in danger. Rathbun and his crew of five carpenter friends cut and marked each and every piece of poplar, so that it could be reassembled like a giant puzzle at the museum. It took them three weeks to construct the colossal sculpture which evoked a giant ocean swell that swept across the 50 foot gallery nearly reaching the 18 foot ceiling at one end, its form riding on a beautiful truss system that children loved to run underneath, Again Rathbun captured that essence and incredible sense of longing * that big idea.

Over the next four years Rathbun created eleven major installations, all incorporating three essential forms * the boat, the rudder, and the u-joint - forms he saw as relevant and powerful because their structures were requisite to their function in the world. His compositions ranged widely from soaring towers, to massive arcs, to elaborate truss systems, to mammoth sculpture with boats and wings in orbit. His projects appeared in college and university galleries, alternative arts organizations, and sculpture parks from coast to coast.

Most critically acclaimed since his exhibition at Socrates Sculpture Park on Long Island, New York (a project started by the great modernist sculptor, Marc DiSuvero) Rathbun continues to create monumental and inspirational works named for their coordinates on earth. And while his original interest was about a grand or heroic gesture driven by a search for the truth, his concerns of late are more about the people coming together in the works creation - his brothers, his friends and his students.

And though a shift in iconography was notable in his work installed at the Skokie Northshore Sculpture Park with the diminishment of the boat's presence and the incorporation of new elements, such as huge wheels, it still seems to hang in a state of grace that is readily perceived by everyone who witnesses it.

Ironically, for Rathbun, the work had by this time begun to feel like a burden. But in a classic move, he surrendered to his dilemma and created a sculpture * elaborate carved wings attached to a heavy wooden harness * that was meant to be literally worn as a burden. The wings were a perfect study in redemption and a wonderful metaphor for the weight carried by the artist. (Sometimes talent can feel like a curse).

Today Rathbun's artistic process involves a continual stripping away of what is expected or understood. Every project takes him back to the absolute beginning. A letting go, an emptying out "I am nothing. I am just a guy who builds things" says Rathbun. It is from this place that Rathbun creates one fantastic project after another.

Could it be that he is channeling divine energy? It is certainly possible. The void is the place that contains the mystery * the everything. Enlightened souls of all times know this. Empty out what you know and the truth will come. Rathbun the teacher tells his students that he doesn't care if they make art, so long as they truly work to reckon with their life's purpose.

"You've got to present yourself to the storm. How are you going to get from where you are now to the life you were slated? Making art is one way to get there. What is your contribution to the world? How can we take the human species to a higher level?" he asks.

This is not to say that Rathbun attaches didactic function to visual art. But he knows that the way we answer these questions will change the world. And that in a life lived authentically, art can be a vehicle for redemption.

The End

Cynde Randall is an artist and Senior Program Associate for the Minnesota Artists exhibition Program at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts.

Learn more about this sculpture.