Debra Butterfield’s horses are not simply displayed in a museum; they dominate their space. Her irrefutable understanding of the life and mannerisms of horses is evident by the immediately recognizable personality each of her creations convey. The life size animals are impressive and have a magical quality akin to a photograph. Each of Butterfield’s horses looks as if it were “caught” in the middle of something. Horse #2-85, at the Arizona State University Art Museum, is tired and lounging, just about to put her head down for a nap (I find myself calling this horse a she, but can’t reasonably explain why). As I wander towards her, I feel I have disturbed her repose and am being receiving a disapproving look. I have been lucky enough to see several of Deborah Butterfield’s horses and each of them gives the same impression; that I am the interloper wandering into their space and certainly not the other way around.
Deborah Butterfield lives near Bozeman, Montana, teaching sculpture at Montana State University Bozeman while raising and training award-winning horses; she is also an accomplished rider. Her body of work consists entirely of horses as they are her sole creative medium. Her artistic career began in the 1970’s, utilizing only found materials including wood, mud, straw and metal harvested as trash from her sprawling land. She has progressed from found objects, to collected driftwood, then through to steel and bronze. Butterfield’s more recent works in bronze are replicas of an original horse that she formed with her traditional materials. The original is fully constructed in wood and then destroyed piece by piece to create the iron casts that will later mold individual pieces of bronze. In the final step, the bronze members are reassembled and polished as the full-bodied horse. Completion of this process can take up to four months per sculpture.
Butterfield’s earlier pieces, like Horse #2-85 and her compatriot Ponder at the Phoenix Art Museum, create a distinct aura within their respective museum spaces. They settle well in an exhibition hall, alongside the man made environment of steel, concrete and glass, because they themselves are composed of artificial materials. Horse #2-85 is composed of wood, discarded scrap metal for a nose, a used rubber tire representing the hindquarters and the occasional nail or two. I feel a counterpoint between the organic nature of the horse, which is tugging at my senses, and the fact that this animal is a wholly unnatural construction. While you could make the argument that wood is a natural substance, these pieces of wood are far removed from the tree trunk in which they once existed. They are misshapen; many of them are splintered and bear the scars of previous abuses. But the ugliness belies a magical quality through which each piece is held together by an invisible frame. Indeed it is one of the more interesting aspects of this animal that all of her rough and disparate pieces of anatomy are seamlessly joined and, in totality, form the wholeness of a living creature.
The contradiction between this horse and the fairytale ponies of my mind threaten to undermine my connection with Horse, #2-85. But, I can’t ignore her or shake the impression that she could, if so inclined, rise up and run through a sunlit meadow, casually holding her own next to all the prettier horses. Here is a creature that lives contently and in her metal and wood soul lets all who enter know that she is present. Horse #2-85 has not simply been placed here, this is her place and you must humbly ask her permission if you wish to stay.
