The foundry is dusty and sweltering; heat emanates from the furnace and rolls off of the back of the foundry workers. Todd Jenkins said that on the days they pour metal he often leaves work drenched in sweat.
It’s hands-on work. He and the others know that they’re not going to be recognized for the work that they do, except by the creator of the original idea. Each person in the foundry plays a role in making the metal pieces, but the designer is the one who gets the credits.
There’s a huge kiln preheating ceramic molds. And, Jenkins tends to the metal, feeding it until it’s full.
Jenkins wears a big heat resistant suit when he pours molten metal to protect himself. They can only wear the protective gear for about 15 to 20 minutes because of the heat. At his foundry, they pour about 700 pounds every week, which ends up being about 4 or 5 hours of pouring work.
Jenkins personal works are made primarily of cast bronze and fabricated stainless steel, but he also has a number of unorthodox methods, including splashing bronze on the ground.
“I use these splashes of frozen energy to create dynamic and colorful wall hangings,” Jenkins said.
A flair for the dramatic and unconventional is evident in his art, just like how he discovered his against-the-grain methods.
Right out of college, art degree in hand, Jenkins moved to the Bay Area and worked a series of odd jobs in a window tinting company and an HR department. However, he knew he wanted to expand his sculpture skills. Back in college, he had done some sculpture work with the guidance of adjunct professor Peter Mitten, and he decided to try for a job at a foundry.
“I want[ed] to learn how to use those tools,” Jenkins explained.
He eventually landed an apprenticeship. He thought he’d work there a few years and have his big break.
“I thought it was going to be a couple of years, and then suddenly, people were going to realize what an amazing, talented artist I was.”
The foundry he worked at happened to do pourings for sculptor legend Stephen De Staebler. Jenkins ended up befriending De Staebler’s son who also worked at the foundry.
As a fresh-out-of-college artist, Jenkins was experimenting and trying to figure out his approach to sculpture work, but when he came across De Staebler’s work in the foundry, Jenkins felt crushed. It was hard to compare, and De Staebler’s work had him beat.
“Stephen De Staebler just totally killed my dream,” Jenkins said. “Just by his own work, not his personality at all. He was a great guy.”
But one day, while Jenkins was pouring one of De Staebler’s pieces, something unexpected happened.
“We had a piece in the cage that was his, and it blew out right at the very bottom. I hadn’t seen this happen at that time. There was like 40 or 50, 60 pounds of metal because we filled it up and it blew out on the bottom and all of that metal [was] just all over. Molten metal, all over the floor.”
Jenkins moved the cage away to start tending to the fallen metal.
“I was just like, ‘Oh, I’m going to have to rake this thing up,’” Jenkins said. “And like, you know, put it back in the sandblast now. It has a bunch of sand on it.”
He paused when he looked at the mess. It was not a solid piece, but it was one piece of metal. It had retained a splash, liquid-like look.
“Oh my gosh, this, this splash piece,” he remembered thinking. “Eventually after it cooled, I picked it up and I was like, ‘Oh, no way!’”
He compared the discovery to seeing images of space through the Hubble telescope in the 90s.
“It was just like jaw dropping stuff,” Jenkins said. “And I felt like I’m looking at that right now, like a splash of metal.”
“That got me going into a totally different direction with my artwork.”
He wanted to recreate the failed De Staebler pour and experiment with something brand new. His supervisor and mentor at the foundry sanctioned the, at times, dangerous experimentation.
“I think he was as interested as I was because I’d come up with these weird experiments to do… there’s principles of pouring that you can do.”
He started questioning and pushing the standard pouring practices.
“I started playing with the material in a completely different way.”
“I have a form that I’m going to that I’m trying to cast, but I’m also trying to really mess it up at the same time to see what happens.”
“I have a form that I’m going to that I’m trying to cast, but I’m also trying to really mess it up at the same time to see what happens.”
Since that fateful discovery, he’s continued his experimentation in the foundry and brought pieces all over the country from California to Washington to where he lives now, Oklahoma.
His work taps into faith, philosophy and astronomy. He finds inspiration in imagery that comes from all sorts of things, including space and nature, but his vision for the pieces pushes back on the idea that you have to have a clear idea of what the piece is. Everyone interprets it differently. He compared the process to looking at a cloud.
“When people look at my splash pieces, they’re looking for the duck… or fish, you know. I don’t see those things at all. When I’m making the thing, it’s more like the energy, like the movement of it. For some of my bigger splash pieces, they’re not one piece, but I want them to look like one piece, like there’s a direction to the movement.”
He’s landed on the belief that this was his God-ordained calling, with the caveat that it’s taking years to even admit it.
“It was more of a gradual like, ‘Oh, I’m actually kind of okay at doing this,” Jenkins explained. “I have enough left within me. I think God cares about what we think and what we like.”
He shared one moment from his undergrad that gave him a taste of what his career would look like. He dreamed he was in a foundry.
“It was actually more of a nightmare,” Jenkins laughed. “It was like it was dirty and sweaty and just, like, oppressive and not comfortable at all. I woke up and I was like, ‘That sucked.’ I can’t even imagine doing that.”
“That dream was a picture of what my future was going to be, a literal picture. This is how crappy this is going to feel.”
When he first woke up, he wasn’t so sure if he wanted to do metal sculpting, if that’s what it took. But something kept him going, even with that sleepy premonition.
“When I look back at it now, it just makes me kind of smile. You probably had people tell you don’t ever say never because that’s likely what you’re going to get.”
“When I look back at it now, it just makes me kind of smile. You probably had people tell you don’t ever say never because that’s likely what you’re going to get.”
Like his dream warned him, this passion for art doesn’t come without risks.
“Pouring metal — the fear factor of it — there’s a lot of things that go into it,” Jenkins said.
But he aims to continue to ride the wave of the splash pieces and see where they take him. He shared the following for students and artists.
“Expect to work hard,” Jenkins said. “You’re not going to be recognized necessarily for even really original work that you do.”
But keep moving.
“Not a lot of people are going to understand why you’re doing what you’re doing. And you probably won’t either at times,” Jenkins explained. “That’s okay to feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Stick to what you know and lead by your internal compass, whether that’s faith, creativity or anything else.
“The sun sets over there and I’m trying to go west, so I’m going to follow the sun where it is.”
