Book Review: 'Sculpting My Life: Memoirs of a Crazy Dutch Artist'

They sit majestically on lawns, open fields, institutional grounds, storefront pavements and in smaller forms, here and there — all distinctively Hans Van de Bovenkamp sculptures — publicly and privately commissioned. They can be found also in art galleries, auction houses, museums, residences all over the world, but to locals on the East End they find a welcome home particularly where author, art dealer and Bovenkamp admirer Louis K. Meisel owns property.

The works, large abstracts of jutting, swirling curved posts and arcs, done mainly in bronze, aluminum and stainless steel with delicate brush scratches, owe much of their inspiration to Hindu and South Asian myths, and cultural and spiritual symbols, many described by the philosopher and scholar Joseph Campbell, whose books are admiringly cited in the artist’s new book, “Sculpting My Life: Memoirs of a Crazy Dutch Artist.”

Bovenkamp’s memoir is a late-in-life thanksgiving to those in his life who made a difference. These include his family — especially his mother — friends he met when he lived in Greenwich Village, new friends “of the palette-and paintbrush crowd” he bonded with when he fell in love with the East End, and now, Warren Strugatch, a professional journalist Bovenkamp met in 2018 who specializes in collaborating with prominent creatives. Mention is made toward the end of the book (with a color photo) of master welder Kevin Miller, “my alter ego for nearly 30 years,” for sure, an essential associate to Bovenkamp’s career.

Buddhist, Hindu and similar spiritual and cultural art collected during wide-ranging travels in South America and Asia constitute a major part of Bovenkamp’s formative years. He came to the United States in 1958. He also celebrates his rebellious nature and bohemianism. More than once he admiringly notes being called “crazy” and says he took LSD over 80 times, but he also acknowledges traditional study early on which affected his “architectural approach to sculpture.” He particularly delights in remembering “The Scene” in the East and West Village and the luminaries he hung out with in galleries, jazz clubs and his own spot which he started with his brother, Gerrit.

There’s a lot of name-dropping in this slim paperback, including Muhammad Ali and Malcolm X, whose passing he regrets. A reader might wish, however, that something substantive were drawn from what he learned artistically from them and from “Bill,” “Andy” or even “the lady” Jackson hung out with (not Lee).

The 88-year old Bovenkamp is still an occasional presence at Hamptons’ openings and at his Sagaponack studio, where he continues to attract writer/photographers who feature him. His latest project is converting Twin Oaks Farm, his seven-acre, 10-building studio space and sculpture park, to nonprofit status when it will become The Hans Van de Bovenkamp Sculpture Park and Siv Cedering Library (in honor of his beloved second wife of nearly 20 years) to accommodate sculpture, paintings and books. In his memoir, he includes photos also of his sons from his first wife, Janet, and of a daughter.

Overall, “Sculpting My Life” is overall hagiographic and discreet. Teasing financial and amatory details are left out, and name dropping takes the place of discussion of mutual influence. Also, the placement of photos is sometimes odd, but as he says, he’s getting on and wants to have what probably everyone wants — a legacy.