Time flies while local artist creates time machines

December 23, 2009

Brenda Rader Mross

The Wellington

 

Los Angeles transplant Randy Mulder credits a Groucho Marx one-liner as inspiration for one of his clock contraptions currently on display at the Loveland Museum/Gallery.

Topped with a larger-than-life brass fly and an insanely small flyswatter, “Tempus Fugit” — Latin for “time flies” — is a working clock sculpture that pays homage to the mustachioed, cigar-wielding comedian’s famous quote, “Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.”

Four years ago, Mulder and his wife, Marvine, were living in Los Angeles, where the two happened upon a gallery selling handcrafted clocks created from unusual assortments of parts to look as if they were from the 19th century.

“I was fascinated,” said Mulder, who has since learned the art form is called steampunk, denoting fantastical, fictional technological inventions from a world fueled by steam power. “I thought, ‘I could do that.’”

The Mulders retired and moved to Wellington 18 months later. On a whim, Mulder showed one of his three time machines to his employer at Old Town Art & Framery, Marcy Oliver. Oliver encouraged Mulder to make more and put them on the gallery floor.

Mulder was floored when all 12 sold at $400 each.

“I thought only geeky, middle-aged guys who spent too much time in the garage would be interested,” said the 56-year-old.

A victim of the economy, the veteran picture framer was forced to take a new position at The Great Frame Up at Centerra. As fate would have it, a coworker there had connections at the Loveland Museum. The next thing Mulder knew, he had three months to prepare for an exhibition in the Green Room.

“I am still coming to grips why people are so enamored with them,” Mulder said. “I think it’s the contradictory elements. The clocks look like nothing they’ve ever seen before and yet they’ve seen it all before, just put together in a different way. The more they look, the more they see.”

Two or three picture frames form the skeleton upon which Mulder builds. The one constant feature is a working clock, though the thematic faces are as varied as the surrounding makeshift items, many of which are functional and interactive. Components include wooden boxes, parts of old pots and pans, antique postcards and ads, medicine bottles, protractors, measuring tape, light-up pens, hole punches, pull chains, radio tubes, drawer pulls and door knobs.

A vintage cigar box may be another subconscious nod to Marx.

The self-professed very reluctant artist tries to incorporate a carpenter’s level in each piece to add fluidity to the compilation of hard elements. Some include music boxes, as in the case of “Over the Rainbow” that plays “If I Only Had a Brain.”

“That’s my theme song,” he said.

Mulder’s original creation — Bates Aeroclock #5 — is on display but not for sale.

“I made it in honor of my father, the pilot,” the artist said as he pointed to a trio of three miniature metal airplanes circling the top. “Dad’s lucky number was 5, so I’ve hidden 5’s throughout. He never got to see it, but I think he would love it.”

A California native, Mulder made his living as a salesman and picture framer for a premier frame shop in west Los Angeles that boasted a celebrity clientele including the likes of Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jamie Lee Curtis and Charlize Theron.

Mulder also spent several years doing standup in L.A. comedy clubs.

“It was brutal,” he admitted. “I thought I wanted to get into show business. I did some commercials and went on the game show circuit before I lost interest. I realized I wasn’t enjoying it or getting anywhere.”

Mulder appeared on Love Connection, Scrabble and Win, Lose or Draw.

“It was Burt Reynolds, Charles Nelson Reilly, and me on one team,” he recalled about the latter. “We won.”

Mulder’s other love is drawing photo-realistic portraits of people and animals.

“I’m self-taught. I’ve always had a passion for art, but it was all just for fun,” he explained. “I remember being in the bathroom while my mom was putting on her makeup and drawing pictures on the toilet paper with her eyebrow pencil.”

Mulder has coupled his time machines and drawings with a third talent: writing and illustrating children’s poetry. Visit www.RandyMulderArtworks.com.

Just as Mulder never set out to be an artist, the couple came to Wellington somewhat by accident.

“We narrowed it down to six cities, and Fort Collins was among the best places to retire,” he said. “After looking at houses in Fort Collins and Wellington, we decided on Wellington.”

Mulder admitted it took them a while to overcome feelings of isolation and acclimate themselves to life in a small town.

“Here, it’s all about sky,” he mused. “It feels like you’re communing with nature. It’s a healthier, more civilized way to live; more normal. The slower pace gives people more room to be nicer.”

One of the pair’s favorite activities is to walk their dogs, Marco and Dexter, all the while patrolling the ground for any rusty odds and ends. Mulder’s brother, Greg, is in the furniture restoration industry and sends salvageable bits and pieces his way, as well.

While Mulder’s art is provocative, he claims he never set out to make a statement or define time. Rather, he simply hopes others enjoy the “harmonious incongruity” of his work.

Mulder’s time machine sculptures are on display through March 28. The museum/gallery is concurrently hosting four exhibits saluting surrealist Salvador Dali’s work, including a local artist tribute in which Mulder is participating.

Marx did contribute a serious profundity regarding time: “Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.”

No kidding.