This piece evokes intrigue and mystery surrounding novelist and sportsman, Ernest Hemingway. Included in this work is a collection of early 1930's opened envelopes (all empty) addressed to Ernest Hemingway himself. The envelopes are displayed with a portable 1910 Corona 3 typewriter which was one of his favorites used at the time. A whiskey glass, brass German pencil sharpener (an item normally carried in his pocket) and a pencil add to the fascinating story surrounding this piece. A representation of a letter addressed to Max Perkins (Hemingway friend and Scribner book editor crediting with discovering Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings and Thomas Wolfe) is in the typewriter. The sculpture rests under an antiques dome.

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Artist Statement and Biography

After a career in advertising (formerly CEO of Cincinnati-based Northlich), Mark's love for great design, primitive antiques and unusual found objects all converged to form his creation of assemblages.

"Some works convey a message, some an outgrowth of a  personal story, some a flight of fantasy and others are simply compositions that just look and feel right.  Each one has been put through the torture test of long stares.   My work aims to give very special found objects a new life and context."

A collection of Serrianne assemblages were exhibited in February, 2017 at the juried national show of the American Craft Council in Baltimore, Maryland.

Artist Interview

1) What set you on your path to become an artist and how did you breathe life into making it happen?

As a teen, I was an errand boy for a large architectural firm which sparked my interest in going to design school. Once enrolled in the College of Design at the University of Cincinnati, I was like a kid in a candy store. I become fascinated with advertising and graphic design, which drove me to a career in the advertising industry and a lifetime of working alongside outstanding creative people who set a high bar in all sorts of disciplines from illustration to film. This gave me a very deep well to draw from. A close friend who attended my first show said, “Mark, all of your lifetime interests have converged into your artwork.”” Well, that’s true. I have been a collector of old stuff and forever on the search for unusual and valuable curiosities. Looking through bottomless piles of dusty old objects became an obsession. My assemblages emerged from an attachment to these objects and my curiosity around the mystery and magic in their stories.

My studio and workshop are like a heavily curated fantasy museum and I enjoy looking at everything. It’s a great laboratory for inspiration and channeling creative energy. After retiring from the advertising business, this naturally became my new world and I have enjoyed bringing objects and stories to life through assemblage art.

2) To What do you attribute the success of your work?

For me, I have to accept that people setting out to buy art aren’t normally on a mission looking for a sculpture, or certainly not assemblage art. So, my work has to be disruptive in some way.

Someone told me at a recent showing that when watching people viewing my sculptures they were often smiling. That’s a meaningful chord I’m trying to strike. My aim is to put a little magic out there with a wink of whimsy, unfolding a good story and giving a sculpture an unexpected balance of energy and desirable aesthetic captured with a perfect title. When I can get a sculpture to reach that high bar, success can follow.

3) How do you push yourself in seeking total originality or breaking new ground, sometimes even at the expense of financial success?

There’s no quick answer to this question. To be totally original is extraordinarily difficult. It’s seldom achieved. Maybe never. And, oftentimes, not necessary. So much artwork, very good artwork, is usually derivative in someway of other works, including one’s own. Well-regarded management guru, Peter Drucker, had a great saying, “Innovation is not a gift—it is the result of a process.” I believe that. You can magically or serendipitously hit on a great idea or technique, but not very often. Frankly, in the marketplace, well over 95% of new products fail. I think that too applies to art.

For me, seeking originality is an arduous process of self-criticism, discipline in casting a wide net of learning what’s out there, hopefully enough patience in allowing an idea to percolate and accepting the sober reality of whether your work passes the test of time and “long stares”. I look at the impressionist painters, van Gogh and Marcel Duchamp as shining examples of both breaking new ground and financial sacrifice.

Lastly, in the kind of sculptures I do, the pursuit and purchase of objects can be costly, so a willingness to take chances and letting original stories unfold are ever present.