First, said the sculptor, I must talk to the wood. Sit quietly. Listen to what it has to say. Get to know its shapes. Honour the wind's work, forces that shaped it, shape us.
For those who know Warren Viscoe (I cannot put him into past tense), there is nothing surprising about him talking to the wood, beginning a sculpture with contemplation, conversation. Any encounter with this man, face to face, phone to phone, letter to letter, (never by email), quickly morphed into a meditation. Whether from ancient Greeks or Romans to Māori mythology, colonial atrocities or the life cycle of eels and godwits, you never knew where meanderings of the mind with Warren would lead. You could be certain, given enough time, he would gently lead you into a…
