A Sculptor’s Steely Resolve Results In A Forest of Figures At Butler Sculpture Park
Even in non-pandemic times, a trip to the Butler Sculpture Park in Sheffield, Mass. would be a delightful escape. But now, with the sameness of our days combined with the loss of many of the season’s usual activities, visiting one man’s sculpture garden high up in the hills gives us everything we’re yearning for. Art, nature, fresh air, a bit of exercise, and the opportunity to marvel at one man’s life work and the world he’s created for it.
Part of the adventure is just getting there. A turn off Route 7 almost as far south as the Connecticut state line leads to a winding road bisecting farmland, then through a forested glade. An alarmingly steep gravel drive deposits us in the Butler compound. Parking puts us beside the visitor center/gallery, a two-room structure that gives hints of what’s to come, both in artwork and vistas.
The visitor center and gallery
A notice in the gallery tells us there are no longer maps of the grounds and sculptures, but advises us to walk the path just past the gate. Sculptures of stainless steel circles and coils, mobiles and other playful shapes greet us as we walk over an arched bridge, up stone steps and through grassy areas.
While we’re meandering from one large-scale sculpture to the next, we spy a lanky, white-haired fellow scurrying around what appears to be the artist’s workshop. By the time we reach the workshop, he’s nowhere to be found, so we continue our nature tour. When we make our way back, the bay door is open and we wander inside.
“You disappeared,” says the fellow, who is, indeed, the artist Robert Butler. Motioning for us to put on our masks, he invites us to sit down and have a chat. He wants to know which of the sculptures we liked the best, but I’m more interested in learning about him and his process. He’s happy to oblige.
Photo credit: Karen-Lee Duquette
This is his 30th season, he says. He and his wife Susan, also an artist, opened the single-sculptor designed park (one of only four in the country) with 40 pieces. Now there are 75. Forty of them are outdoors, and the others are in his galleries above the shop or in the visitor center. They bought 22 acres of this land in the 80s, and gradually semi-tamed about 20 more. While the sculpture park and buildings (his house is also on the property) look meticulously planned out — in a wild, natural sort of way — Butler’s career as a sculptor wasn’t.
“I taught troubled youth at Mt. Sinai Hospital in West Hartford for years,” he says. “Kept them from going to jail.”
When the hospital was sold, Butler took a job in a heavy welding factory. Because he could handle it, they gave him “the biggest ballpeen hammer in the shop” — and also gave him his first commission. Since then, he’s had a lot more. In fact, he says, there’s a guy not too far away who has his own “Butler Sculpture Garden.”
Sculptor Robert Butler
He’d already sold a couple of pieces the week we visited. The smaller ones sell for $800 to $2,000; the kinetic sculptures up to $20,000. But you won’t find any Robert Butler works in commercial venues. “I’m independent,” he says. “I stay away from galleries.”
In earlier days, Butler worked with steel, but switched to stainless steel; that’s what keeps the outdoor sculptures looking so incredibly pristine. He burnishes each piece so that the stainless takes on a textured, moiré pattern that glints in the sun. Butler emphasizes that the joints where the pieces are welded together are indistinguishable. Unlike other sculptors, he grinds and polishes his welds to maintain the flow of the piece.
“That’s a Butler,” he says, pointing to the base of the piece where the joint has been sanded smooth. “That’s how you know it’s one of mine. I grind my ass off.”
One of Butler's favorite pieces (which he will not sell), and others in the gallery above the workshop. Photo credit: Karen-Lee Duquette
Unless you’re a welder yourself, that might not be the first thing you notice. It’s the whimsical shapes, the kinetic structures and the geometric forms standing like sentinels that catch your eye. You wonder why some are placed in forest shadows or left to sunbathe in a field. Now, when my mind is rattling with worried chatter, their quiet presence help me take in the birdsong and rustling branches.
“It’s really quite touching,” my husband says as we bump back down the scarily steep gravel road. “It’s Butler’s entire oeuvre. He had a vision, and he made it happen.”
Butler Sculpture Park
481 Shunpike Road, Sheffield, MA
(413) 229-8924
Open 11 a.m. – 5 p.m., to October 31
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