The ChaseArt sculpting and modeling process is one in which the “found parts” that comprise the art largely determine the end product. In other words, this form of art often seems to “self-construct” by virtue of the incredible dynamics of coincidence. Namely, the inherent nature of random geometric shapes, angles and ergonomic design of essentially any and all manufactured items encountered in everyday life invariably   enable unrelated items to “fit” together. In so doing, the composites reveal faces, functions, industrial equipment, military craft, etc. which are subsequently enhanced to reveal a “finished product” that the artist often did not set out to create. And even when there is a “visionary” idea about something specific to be crafted, it requires searching through a lot of scrap parts to spot the items that will match the project’s intended outcome. The whole process is like working a puzzle when you have all the pieces on the kitchen table, but not the box top photo with the ultimate pictorial view you’ll see.

A creative writer chooses specific words to evoke imagery in a literary piece and a painter selects precise tints to enliven a canvas with colorful figures.  Similarly, ChaseArt also employs a poetic, artistic license to fashion existing scraps into forms which engender precise images of a particular machine, apparatus, vehicle, craft or other entity without necessarily being a scale replica or an exact rendition of the item being represented.  Indeed, the very essence of ChaseArt is that it showcases extemporization over exactitude, fashioning new figures from the sum of old and diversified parts.

The majority of these Steampunk sculpted figures are industrial-like equipment, lighting fixtures and other mechanical contrivances — all of which include gears, chains, gauges, handles, hinges and any manner of interestingly configured supplemental metal parts with a well-worn natural patina. Variations of the Steampunk motif include collages of scrap that are less mechanical, but nonetheless evocative of something unusual and visually interesting to ponder. These include whimsical works which usually center around weird faces and odd forms of “instruments, tools, equipment” , etc.  Another category of ChaseArt figures are avant-garde,  Art Deco military vehicles and craft, such as planes, tanks, helicopters, submarines, armaments, etc. — most of which consist of actual military equipment components augmented by literally anything else that serves to enhance the model’s authentic appearance. There is even a space alien aspect to this art, with robots, strange creatures, spaceships, ray-guns and other odd, whimsical characters typical of a “Twilight Zone” atmosphere. {ChaseArt has an acclaimed Sci-Fi book The Cryptos Conundrum, by Chase Brandon (Forge Books, New York, 2012); and as both writer and artist he has written television and movie scripts, to include serving as technical advisor and film location consultant for their production}.  

In the making of these new somethings from those old, scrap nothings, few if any of the parts are structurally modified.  Components are used mostly as they appeared in their original, scraped condition, with an obligatory degree of cleaning and sanitizing.  It stands to reason therefore, that the greater the inventory of miscellaneous parts, the greater the likelihood that a particular piece or series of pieces will dictate the conceptual direction that leads to a finished product.  

Once the path is apparent, the next important step is the design layout and engineering phase that securely mounts the parts onto a “main-frame canvas,” which is typically reclaimed doors, pieces of used wood paneling or scraps of sheet metal. The integrated range of metal, wood and plastic inventory parts are “hard mounted” using screws, bolts, staples, wire or nails. In addition to the requirement of selecting items whose dimensions conform to the proportion and perspective of the item undergoing “evolutionary design,” an equally important consideration is to select items whose natural markings and texture blend to form an overall patina, color scheme that compliments the art piece taking shape.  

If, as the adage states: “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, then it must follow that for ChaseArt, one person’s trash is truly another’s treasure.  Like a handful of golden opportunity, you have to grab scrap wherever and whenever you can.  And like information which must be filed in some retrievable fashion, warehoused parts have to be organized and accessible.  

If you accept that the basic rule of intelligent tinkering is to save all the parts, you should agree with the three complementary “rules of ownership” — 1) if you keep anything long enough, you can throw it away; 2) if you throw anything away, you will need it as soon as it is no longer accessible; and 3) if you keep it and you need it, you won’t be able to find it.

Ultimately, the location of all things can not be known simultaneously, and if a lost thing is finally found, something else will invariably disappear.  Nonetheless, this artist can either always find exactly what he is looking for in his shop, or of equal consequence, while looking for one thing he will usually find another which works even better.  If there is a limiting factor to his art process, it has less to do with available scrap than with time to devote to the process of artistically evaluating and tinkering with a huge number of junked parts…every one of which waits patiently to unite coincidentally with companion pieces and assume a new visual life form.