I’ve had the pleasure of visiting the studio of sculptor Carol Crawford in Sydney’s Surry Hills on several occasions over the years; each time I’m struck first by the raw beauty of her works and shortly after by the sunlight that streams into illuminate their translucent forms. However, even on the most overcast days, there is a sense of palpable energy in the room—each sculpture radiating its own quiet strength. 

Carol's artistic practice utilises a range of natural materials such as alabaster, marble, and soapstone. Her method is profoundly intuitive and for the most part manual, allowing her to slowly reveal the inherent story and final form of each stone. Recently, Carol channelled this artistic philosophy into a piece for our Mark of a Milestone project, drawing inspiration from our new brand symbol. The resulting sculpture is a soft, feminine form named ‘Daniella’ crafted from Italian Scaglione alabaster. Daniella embodies a gentle S curve inspired by the initials of our moniker, as well as the fluid forms of our new symbol.

We spoke to Carol on a fittingly sunny Thursday morning at her studio, where she talked us through her creative process, the work she has created for SARAH & SEBASTIAN and how, more often than not, sculpture requires a constant conversation with the stone. 

Carol, your work has such a beautifully tactile nature. When did you first realise that stone, in particular, would be your artistic language?

I discovered ‘stone’ approximately seven years after I started sculpting, which was around 2009. I spent the first few years of my sculpture ‘training’ in the atelier studio of Tom Bass AM, creating works inspired by famous sculptors that I admired. Matisse’s portrait of ‘Jeannette’ (which he created five different iterations of, each one more abstract than the one before) was one of my favourites, as was Picasso’s ‘Head of a Woman’. It was during these early years, under Tom’s tutelage, that I learned to understand form and also the fundamentals of sculpting in a classical sense.

My love of stone sculpting was ignited when we visited the home of an alabaster in Italy in 2008, on the hilltop town of Volterra. On this trip, I bought a few small ‘nodules’ of alabaster and carried them home in my hand luggage. I also bought a unique handmade file from an artisan in Volterra, which I still use to this day—it’s an amazing tool.

'Daniella', hand-carved from alabaster for Mark of a Milestone

Carol Crawford working on a piece in her studio

Because the stone I bought was so precious, I treated it with reverence and wanted to release the innate form of the rough piece of stone. I tried to keep an open mind as to what the final form should be and didn’t impose my opinion too strongly. Alabaster is a uniquely ‘live’ stone with anthropomorphic qualities—it is soft enough to carve curves with hand tools, yet hard enough to chip out the rough form with a hammer and chisel. I liken it to having a to-and-fro conversation, listening and reacting—and filing a bit more—a very meditative process. Working with marble is like having a dogmatic argument with the stone—you have to know where you are going and what you are saying, and you get straight to the point with most of the ‘work’ being done with a hammer and chisel. I have worked with both materials and much prefer alabaster.

“Alabaster is a uniquely ‘live’ stone with anthropomorphic qualities. Working with it is like having a to-and-fro conversation, listening and reacting—and filing a bit more—a very meditative process.”

Can you describe the creative process you embark on when beginning a new piece?

When starting a new piece, I have to be attracted to the raw form of the stone. Alabaster is formed in nodules (or egg-like forms) through pressure over time. Unlike marble, it is not cut out of mountains in blocks but rather harvested a few metres underground in nodules that can vary in size from a couple of metres wide to just a few centimetres in diameter. Each nodule is a unique form, and I value this and let the stone speak to me to realise its final form. At times I feel I haven’t done anything to create the final work; the stone does it all by itself—I am merely the ‘medium’ that has realised and released that form.

I start the process by removing parts of the stone I don’t want by refining and simplifying the form. This is something I learnt many years ago from Tom Bass. The form then has to ‘make sense’, which is something that happens gradually as I file the alabaster by hand with different files and rifflers. I have a huge variety of hand files that I use, but it’s also my technique of turning the file when I work that creates the beautiful rounded forms. I am interested in interlocking forms and their relationship to one another. I have tried using Dremels or mechanised tools (even for polishing), but I find things race away, and I’m not happy with the end result. Using mechanised tools also makes me feel disconnected, in the sense that the sculpture isn’t handmade, nor a part of me.

Each sculpture I create is an extension of me, and this personalisation is very important to my practice. I don’t have a ‘studio’ where there are worker bees in the back room churning out sculptures. My work is all created by me by hand, hand polished by me, and also pinned (if appropriate) on a base by me. Each work is important and a part of who I am.

Carol Crawford in her light-filled Surry Hills studio

“Each sculpture I create is an extension of me, and this personalisation is very important to my practice.”

You work with a variety of materials, including alabaster and marble. How does the choice of stone influence the final form of your sculpture?

I am guided by the raw form of the stone; however, the final forms are always in keeping with my aesthetic. Earlier this year, I completed a large soapstone sculpture (Karina) that proved very challenging. Even though soapstone is a very different stone from alabaster or marble, the finished form of Karina still shows my handwriting. The challenging part of carving Karina occurred because the soapstone had other minerals embedded within the stone, and in this case, I think it was iron, as it is a burnt orange colour. I couldn’t carve the sculpture in the round as I would normally, so I had to readjust my thinking and create a pyramid-like final form, which I am actually thrilled with.

If I’m carving a very translucent piece of alabaster, the form has to be quite strong; otherwise, it will get lost in the transparency of the stone. I have also developed a ‘skin-like’ finish for the translucent alabaster, which allows the light to bounce off the form rather than be absorbed inside it.

With very nobbly, craggy Bardiglio alabaster (white with black-grey veins), I follow the raw form of the stone—with the final form being a variation of the original stone and closely related to how it started. These are probably my most complex pieces.

A work in progress

A finished piece

Can you tell us a little bit about the piece you created in response to our new symbol and artistic brief?

The sculpture I created for Sarah and Sebastian is a soft feminine form with a twist. I felt the use of Italian Scaglione alabaster was the right material to use because of its diaphanous quality—in the raw, I could see there were translucent parts and more opaque parts within this one piece of stone. The raw stone also had some ‘birthmarks’ (darker veins), which I always love as this marks the sculpture as unique. The subtle ‘S’ of the finished form was both a tribute to the initials of Sarah & Sebastian (which happened organically) as well as an acknowledgement of the sensuousness of the brand itself—working with precious metals and jewels.

“I started to name my sculptures after significant women in my life because I feel I am innately a nurturer.”

In broad terms, how does nature inspire what you do?

I have always been a daydreamer, looking at minutiae. There is so much beauty in nature, in all parts of nature, both living and also geologically, that I am always in awe and constantly inspired. Seeds, shells, the twisting of plumes, new growth—there is so much to be inspired by.

Your sculptures often carry names of significant women in your life. How do these names and the stories behind them shape the work?

I started to name my sculptures after significant women in my life because I feel I am innately a nurturer. My parents also instilled in me the importance of family. Our family was quite different to others that I grew up with in Australia. I never met my grandparents and had no extended family, other than my mother’s brother—all were killed during the Shoah (Holocaust). Friends of my parents were my ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’, and so we felt there was a community/family in this new land my parents had come to settle in.

A collection of works in the studio

I knew I was privileged to be able to create works of art and also to have a beautiful studio in Surry Hills. I felt indebted to my parents and forebears for this gift, hence I named two of my early large sculptures after my two grandmothers—Rachel and Esther. These sculptures reside in my studio and are its heartbeat. This idea was then carried on to my sculptures that were born of that place. The names can be influenced by something that is going on in my life, or sometimes a colour of stone would remind me of one of my parents’ friends—Bronia, for instance, is a brown calcite alabaster sculpture and is named after a very close family friend of my parents. My sculptures are a significant part of my family—each time I walk into my studio and see ‘my family’, it gives me an incredible uplift in spirit.

When working on a piece, do you find that your initial vision changes as you engage more deeply with the material?

Yes, absolutely. There is an evolution that the sculpture goes through. I do not create maquettes or predetermine any sculpture that I create—they all evolve through the conversation that ensues. Sometimes I go back to a sculpture that has been sitting in my studio for a couple of years because something about it has been on my mind.

Our Twisted Pipi Choker, captured in situ

Carol's extensive collection of stone carving and polishing tools

Can you talk about a specific sculpture that was particularly challenging or transformative for you?

I always go back to reference a sculpture I created in 2009, which was called Genesis I. This was the last sculpture I created under Tom’s tutelage and was a transformative piece for me. I created it out of clay and cast it in plaster, and then, because of its significance, I took the plunge and cast it in bronze.

It is a significant sculpture because it is heart-driven. Genesis I represented a feeling—the love and support my siblings and I had from my father (both parents really), who had passed away that year. The three separate parts of the sculpture fall apart when not intertwined, but when interlocked, they form the most beautiful whole, a curved rounded interlocution. There are three parts to the sculpture, representing me and my two siblings. I was very close to my father, and this love is represented in a physical way in this sculpture. With love inside, beautiful things are created.

How do you see your work evolving in the future, both in terms of technique and the themes you explore?

Carving alabaster is a physical pursuit, and as long as my health holds up, I intend to continue to work with this most beautiful stone. I can’t see myself changing technique, but I may use classical clay modelling to create forms in the future if alabaster becomes too difficult.