Sculpture made entirely from typewriters.

I don’t solder, glue, or weld.

My work is entirely assemblage - using the components of decommissioned typewriters to create something new.

Every screw, nut, pin, or spring you see here (as well as those you don’t) once served its purpose as part of a workhorse of daily use - stamping out the legal documents, novels, declarations, and love letters of past lives.

My interest in typewriters goes back to the age of 10, when I would lie on my side, my face buried in the green shag carpet, using my family's 1920 Underwood to capture the song lyrics I’d heard on the radio, or watching MTV. As I hit the keys, I’d watch with fascination the visible chain of events inside the machine that led to the letter striking the paper. This machine had the presence of a living thing; something that had seemingly been grown rather than built. I had a strong desire to take it apart. That feeling stuck vividly in my memory.

Later, I worked as a mechanic, a package designer, a sculptor's assistant, an illustrator, and even spent time working in stained glass restoration - but I never gave up on the fact that I wanted to make art full time, nor did I forget about that itching desire to take a typewriter apart.

In 1994, I began disassembling typewriters for use as a sculptural medium - using their parts to breathe life into ruminations on nature, creativity, technology, and the future. Today, after almost 30 years, my work has been featured in Wired Magazine and many other news outlets, a feature-length documentary featuring Tom Hanks called “California Typewriter,” and in countless blog posts, magazines, and newspapers from all over the world.

GUIDING PRINCIPLES

Emulation is beautiful. I draw inspiration from the basic rules to which natural forms are bound. The aesthetic beauty and function of machine components are inseparable to me from naturally occurring biological processes at all scales. I strive to seamlessly merge the forms of nature and mechanics in both appearance and technique.

Sustainability is crucial. I strive to maintain minimal environmental impact - both as an artist and human. For this reason, I use locally sourced, recycled materials only. I also refrain from the use of harmful chemicals or substances within my artistic process - I do not clean, strip, paint, or treat components (or my finished sculptures). I allow the patina of time and functional use to remain, and lend depth to my work.

Patience is paramount. It often takes parts from scores of machines to assemble a single sculpture. Assembling in this way takes time - and it may take many years to develop a single piece, from conception to completion. For all of the needed components to converge in the right place at the right time takes a little bit of magic - and it's truly a miracle of patience and persistence that it happens as often as it does.

Abundance abides. Artistic language aside - I take what others would otherwise throw in the garbage, and turn it into art. I’ve chosen a common enough medium in the typewriter - though they are no longer in daily use, broken and hard to repair machines are reasonably plentiful in a range of no more than 50 miles from my home. There is nothing more beautiful than this; the concept that everything you need to create is simply available. Nothing extra is required.

MY PROCESS

My process has some very specific rules - limitations which often force surprising and unexpected outcomes.

Materials

Typewriters only. The typewriters used are sourced from yard sales, thrift shops, or typewriter repair shops (though I occasionally receive donations from interested contributors).

I favor fairly common models - especially those that are beyond reasonable repair, or otherwise destined for the landfill.

Local sourcing is paramount. I do not purchase materials online! There are plenty of broken machines near me. Shipping parts or driving long distances isn’t necessary.

Preparation

Machines are disassembled by hand - dsometimes, to their very smallest components and assemblies. This is very time-consuming, and difficult.

No power tools are used. It’s important that parts maintain their original aesthetic - and I don’t want them marred, scratched, or broken during dismantling or assembly. I use only handheld tools (such as wrenches, pliers, and screwdrivers). The work requires great delicacy.

Parts are separated and categorized. I do not use disposable containers or materials to organize and store materials; they are either separated into reusable bins, or stored in unused typewriter cases.

Assembly

Very few superfluous parts are added. 99% of the components used in my work have outlived its original purpose as part of a typewriter. For some of the larger sculptures, armatures and structural components are employed for stability, longevity, and safety. The smaller sculptures are 100% typewriter parts.

Only cold assembly is used. Welding, soldering, and gluing are too destructive to the finish and fit of the typewriter components. Only the screws, nuts, pins, springs, and other myriad connective elements that come out of the typewriter are used in the assembly of the sculpture.

Alteration is minimal. I prefer not to bend, drill, or otherwise modify parts. If adaptation is required, components are altered as minimally and invisibly as possible - as it is my goal to maintain their functional aesthetic.

Original methods are honored. I conform to the same assembly techniques used during the 20th century, when the typewriters I use were originally built and produced.

After almost 30 years of doing this work, I’ve discovered that these restrictions lend an unconventional novelty to the finished sculpture; pushing me to continuously hone my techniques, and maintain a fresh perspective.

It never gets boring.

 

Disassembling an IBM Selectric.