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Joseph Macy sits beside his sculpture of Chief Sitting Bull while he tells the story of his life. He will donate the bronze piece to the city of Oakland on Aug. 2.
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WHAT: Sculptor Joseph Macy will present a bronze sculpture to the people of Oakland. The bronze Chief Sitting Bull, a Hunkpapa Lakota Sioux, will then be on permanent display in the historic Washington School on Locust Street for all to enjoy.
WHEN: 2 p.m. ceremony; 4 p.m. reception.
WHERE: Historic Washington School, 637 N.E. Locust St., Oakland. All are welcome.
INFORMATION: 459-7480 or 459-9504
WHEN: 2 p.m. ceremony; 4 p.m. reception.
WHERE: Historic Washington School, 637 N.E. Locust St., Oakland. All are welcome.
INFORMATION: 459-7480 or 459-9504
OAKLAND —“Chief Sitting Bull of the Hunkpapa Lakota Sioux was a mystic and a visionary. He was able to command the largest gathering of Indians in history on the strength of his dream. He predicted the Battle of Little Big Horn and the defeat of General Custer. In a dream, he foresaw the place, time and outcome of the battle. He warned his people, ‘Take no spoils. Do not mutilate the bodies of the enemy. If you do, it will mean the end of our nation.’ Some did not heed his warning and his prediction proved true.”
These words are found in a booklet called “The Bronzes of Joseph Macy.” The text borders a picture of a fierce-looking sculpture of a chief rising from a slab of granite, a sole feather in his headdress.
Macy proudly touched the actual sculpture of Chief Sitting Bull, molded from an Edward S. Curtis photograph, while sipping coffee recently in a quiet corner of Tolly’s Restaurant. He talked about his life and why he will soon be donating the bronze piece, appraised at $50,000, to the city of Oakland.
“They were like a weight around my neck,” said Macy of his many works of art. “Everything we own, owns us. I thought about that for a while and decided to give everything away.”
Macy’s life began in Oakland on April 26, 1937. His father moved the family to Portland the following year.
Living in the Lents District— a neighborhood Macy called “lawless”— toughened the boy as he got older. At age 9, he stumbled across his first love: the trampoline.
“It came naturally,” said Macy.
He went to school during the winter and attended trampoline school in the summer. By age 11, Macy was a professional. For the next decade, he backflipped, frontflipped and suicide-dived his way up and down the West Coast. He was the Oregon Beavers’ seventh-inning stretch entertainment and he toured with the Harlem Globetrotters. He met the girl who would become his wife at trampoline school, dropped out of high school his senior year, married and developed a trampoline routine with his new partner.
He started his own school with 10 built-in trampolines in the floor of an old theater building. But the business was unsuccessful and at age 22, Macy moved to Coos Bay to become a radio airtime salesman. After another couple of relocations, he switched his focus to real estate. In his mid-30s, he became a broker and opened his own office, which he ran for seven years, in Portland. By that time, he had a son, a daughter and a midlife crisis.
Macy sold his business, took off in a ’69 Chevy van, and traveled the 11 Western states for two years. He stayed on the back roads, embraced solitude and lived off the land. When his road trip ended, he built a log cabin on the Oregon Coast.
“I was sick of work,” he said, explaining his spontaneity. “I had newspaper routes at 7 years old.”
Macy was sitting on the front porch of his cabin in early 1988 when a friend drove up and dumped a chunk of black walnut wood in front of him.
“He said, ‘You’re not doing nothing, carve on this,’” said Macy.
These words are found in a booklet called “The Bronzes of Joseph Macy.” The text borders a picture of a fierce-looking sculpture of a chief rising from a slab of granite, a sole feather in his headdress.
Macy proudly touched the actual sculpture of Chief Sitting Bull, molded from an Edward S. Curtis photograph, while sipping coffee recently in a quiet corner of Tolly’s Restaurant. He talked about his life and why he will soon be donating the bronze piece, appraised at $50,000, to the city of Oakland.
“They were like a weight around my neck,” said Macy of his many works of art. “Everything we own, owns us. I thought about that for a while and decided to give everything away.”
Macy’s life began in Oakland on April 26, 1937. His father moved the family to Portland the following year.
Living in the Lents District— a neighborhood Macy called “lawless”— toughened the boy as he got older. At age 9, he stumbled across his first love: the trampoline.
“It came naturally,” said Macy.
He went to school during the winter and attended trampoline school in the summer. By age 11, Macy was a professional. For the next decade, he backflipped, frontflipped and suicide-dived his way up and down the West Coast. He was the Oregon Beavers’ seventh-inning stretch entertainment and he toured with the Harlem Globetrotters. He met the girl who would become his wife at trampoline school, dropped out of high school his senior year, married and developed a trampoline routine with his new partner.
He started his own school with 10 built-in trampolines in the floor of an old theater building. But the business was unsuccessful and at age 22, Macy moved to Coos Bay to become a radio airtime salesman. After another couple of relocations, he switched his focus to real estate. In his mid-30s, he became a broker and opened his own office, which he ran for seven years, in Portland. By that time, he had a son, a daughter and a midlife crisis.
Macy sold his business, took off in a ’69 Chevy van, and traveled the 11 Western states for two years. He stayed on the back roads, embraced solitude and lived off the land. When his road trip ended, he built a log cabin on the Oregon Coast.
“I was sick of work,” he said, explaining his spontaneity. “I had newspaper routes at 7 years old.”
Macy was sitting on the front porch of his cabin in early 1988 when a friend drove up and dumped a chunk of black walnut wood in front of him.
“He said, ‘You’re not doing nothing, carve on this,’” said Macy.
He soon learned he was no good at whittling wood and began using sculpting clay. He tried to mold the clay into his first sculpture and repeatedly tore it down.
“After the eighth try, something happened,” said Macy. “Every time I put my hands to the clay, it was perfect.”
Having no clue how to cast his artwork, Macy took a course on how to build an art foundry. He created six portraiture molds of powerful chiefs. He calls this chapter of his life, “looking for heroes.” His searching always took him back to the American Indians.
His portraitures were popular at art shows— he has drawers full of accolades— but his talent never yielded the fortune Macy expected.
“I spent the last 20 years living on the edge of expectation,” said Macy. “And then I had a stroke and couldn’t go to shows anymore.”
In 2003, Macy was working as a caretaker on a friend’s property in Umpqua. One morning, the artist woke up and couldn’t feel his legs. In the hospital, he was told he would never walk again.
“The hell I won’t,” was his response.
Today, Macy lives with his caretaker and partner, Mary Jo Simmons, in his native city of Oakland. He walks with a limp, but maneuvers well nonetheless. He tried returning to his passion after his stroke, completing two sculptures with one hand. He has since ceased to sculpt.
“The joy dissipated because it was just frustrating for him,” said Simmons as she and Macy thumbed through scrapbooks of his art.
Instead, Macy spends his days in part sitting in his garden with Simmons and writing. One of his projects is a manual about the fundamentals of the trampoline and trampoline therapy.
He has decided that Chief Sitting Bull will be the official property of the people of Oakland on Saturday.
“Chief Sitting Bull was a visionary, a dreamer and his heart was in the right place as far as his people were concerned,” said Macy. “And that’s what we need here — leadership.”
• You can reach reporter Cara Pallone at 957-4208 or by e-mail at cpallone@nrtoday.com.
“After the eighth try, something happened,” said Macy. “Every time I put my hands to the clay, it was perfect.”
Having no clue how to cast his artwork, Macy took a course on how to build an art foundry. He created six portraiture molds of powerful chiefs. He calls this chapter of his life, “looking for heroes.” His searching always took him back to the American Indians.
His portraitures were popular at art shows— he has drawers full of accolades— but his talent never yielded the fortune Macy expected.
“I spent the last 20 years living on the edge of expectation,” said Macy. “And then I had a stroke and couldn’t go to shows anymore.”
In 2003, Macy was working as a caretaker on a friend’s property in Umpqua. One morning, the artist woke up and couldn’t feel his legs. In the hospital, he was told he would never walk again.
“The hell I won’t,” was his response.
Today, Macy lives with his caretaker and partner, Mary Jo Simmons, in his native city of Oakland. He walks with a limp, but maneuvers well nonetheless. He tried returning to his passion after his stroke, completing two sculptures with one hand. He has since ceased to sculpt.
“The joy dissipated because it was just frustrating for him,” said Simmons as she and Macy thumbed through scrapbooks of his art.
Instead, Macy spends his days in part sitting in his garden with Simmons and writing. One of his projects is a manual about the fundamentals of the trampoline and trampoline therapy.
He has decided that Chief Sitting Bull will be the official property of the people of Oakland on Saturday.
“Chief Sitting Bull was a visionary, a dreamer and his heart was in the right place as far as his people were concerned,” said Macy. “And that’s what we need here — leadership.”
• You can reach reporter Cara Pallone at 957-4208 or by e-mail at cpallone@nrtoday.com.
