Shropshire Magazine

A Maggie Taft bronze of two dogs.

Gill Guest visits a county sculptress turning out some brilliant bronzes

When her children were small Maggie Taft made sand sculptures on the beach for them. Relaxed and in confident holiday mood, she thought “I could do this” . . . only to have her illusions rudely shattered seconds later as her tribe of offspring, three girls and two boys, excitedly jumped upon her artistic endeavours!

Family came first of course, and so it was to be many years before Maggie was to have the opportunity to develop her sculpting talents beyond the realm of “sandcastles in the air”.

Maggie Taft at work in her kitchen, creating a ‘clay’ model ready for bronze casting.

Now, though, when other less hardy souls might be contemplating retirement, this grandmother of 14 is finally enjoying “her time”. And she is certainly making the most of it. For not only is she sculpting for pleasure, she’s starting a new career producing commissioned bronzes too.

This, in itself, would be remarkable, but what is even more amazing is that Maggie is completely self-taught. Intrigued, I visited her at her gracious home, with its magnificent sweeping views of the countryside near Bridgnorth, to find out just how this sand sculptress has made the surprising, if late, transition to bronze.

Maggie welcomed me at her front door, whisking me swiftly through a hall whose partly open doors revealed tantalising glimpses of elegant rooms ornamented with side tables and alcoves bearing powerful bronzes. Surprisingly, she led me, not to some far off studio or remote artist’s garret, but into the warmth of the kitchen and the very heart of the home.

Malleable

Here, snug and with an ideal granite-topped island to work upon, Maggie produces her sculptures, cosily warming her modelling clay to a malleable consistency on top of the Aga. Surprisingly, she uses not real clay but the plasticine-like “Newplast”, which doesn’t dry out as quickly and in fact is now the product favoured by Nick Park and the Aardman team for Wallace and Gromit and co.

Once a model is begun, she works rapidly, confessing that she “just can’t leave it alone!” She begins with an armature, a kind of metal skeleton formed from galvanised wire, then models a rough body shape from a cylinder of Newplast before starting the serious sculpting: pinching and tweaking, adding and subtracting nuggets of clay and constantly seeking the form that she visualises.

“My first figure was terrible,” Maggie recalls with amusement. “I made it at a pottery night class and when I brought it home my son laughed at it, so I threw it in the bin!” Fortunately, she was undeterred by this familial lack of encouragement and, although it was many years later, did try again, this time sculpting a pair of Great Danes.

“My father could sculpt. He was a vet and when I was a child we had kennels with all sorts of animals passing through. I made the Great Danes from memories.”

The Great Danes were infinitely more successful than her first attempt. So successful, in fact, that she decided to have them cast in bronze. As her husband owned a casting business involved with motorcycle parts, he was able to help her locate a suitable foundry. Bronze was an expensive option for a first-time sculptor, but Maggie remains unrepentant.

“I never thought I’d have them cast in anything else,” she says, flatly. They were cast for her own pleasure and she never intended to sell them, so when her sister-in-law suggested that she should approach Ombersley Gallery she was both surprised and delighted when the gallery not only took her work, but sold it!

A fine stag.

Progress was once again halted when Maggie’s husband became ill, but after his death Maggie took up her hobby once again, finding it an absorbing way of occupying her mind. Horses became a favourite subject as both Maggie and all her children rode and she had spent literally years ferrying offspring and ponies around.

During countless hours watching by the ringside on draughty hilltops (usually with a new baby in tow) she squirrelled away a vast store of visual images. As a result, her sculptures capture something of those rugged, wind-blown Shropshire hillsides and are energetic and full of lively movement.

Now, her children are well past the jumping-on-sandcastles stage and have at last recognised and celebrate their Mum’s talent. They have commissioned works for themselves and daughter Louise Tulasz is providing valuable business support. “Mum never had the time to do her thing. She had five children, then Dad was poorly,” Louise explains. “But now it’s her time, and she’s looking forward to a whole new career!” she adds, proudly.

There’s already a new website to advertise her work and glossy brochures organised and distributed, all of which Maggie is more than happy to leave to Louise, while she herself enjoys some peaceful sculpting. And after a busy and hectic life looking after others, I’d say she more than deserves it.

• www.sculptures-maggietaft.co.uk