May 27, 2006



Tatia DiChiara,with Sally the Cow. (photos/Stacey Cramp)

Making a Buck in Maine
A talk with Tatia DiChiara

By Scott Douglas

Tatia DiChiara is a commercial artist best known for creating the prototypes of sculptures featured in city-wide art projects, such as Portland's Lighthouses on Parade exhibition of 2003. She created the cows at The Udder Place's locations on Brighton Avenue and in Brunswick, and Liv Tyler sponsored a giant guitar DiChiara created for an exhibit at the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame, in Cleveland. DiChiara also paints and teaches art classes in her basement. Tour the Willard Beach area of South Portland, and you're sure to figure out which house is hers. Her Web site is www.tatiasartstudio.com.

The Bollard: So to start, the little baby cow you had in your front yard was stolen on Mother's Day. And that's the first time one of your sculptures has been stolen…
Tatia DiChiara: Ever. Nothing here had ever been stolen or vandalized. I was so pissed.

Seems like a weird thing to steal. What could they do with it? It's not like stealing someone's camera or laptop. Is there a big black market for little cow sculptures?
I had to call the police, and they said, 'Well, it is college graduation weekend,' so they think it might be a prank.



Was it weird explaining to them what had been stolen?
Yeah, on the phone they were like, 'What do you mean you're missing a cow from your lawn?' But then when I explained where I live, they knew.

It's tough, because it was for The Udder Place, the one on Brighton Avenue. They're already missing their cow, because it was vandalized. So this was a baby cow to go with the mother cow, and now it's not going to be there when it was supposed to be.

[Note: The day after this interview was conducted, the baby cow was anonymously returned while DiChiara was away from home.]

How long have you lived here?
The kids and I moved up in 2002. I'm originally from Maine, from Fairfield. I moved down to Massachusetts, where I met my husband, and was down there for 12 years. We, unfortunately, split up, so I said, 'I'm going home,' and most of my family had come down to the Portland area.

When I moved in, the Lighthouses on Parade was going on, and my parents said I should check it out. At that point, [Parade project organizers] already had all of the artists' entries. We were looking them over and, typical parents, they asked, 'Are you still taking submissions?' [Project organizers] said yes and gave me an application. It was a basic drawing of a lighthouse, and you could do whatever you wanted to them. So I did a couple and brought them over and got sponsored for two lighthouses. I did the Portland Pirates lighthouse and the Hannaford lighthouse.

And that's how this whole thing started. When they saw the stuff I was adding on, the company that makes the lighthouses, out of Nebraska [America's Fiberglass Animals], said, 'Hey, do you want to do some sculpting?' I said, 'Yeah, sounds great, but I don't know what I'm doing.' And so I started sculpting for them.

And that entails what? You make the prototype?
Yes. Come on, I'll show you. [DiChiara leads us from her dining room to the work space in her detached garage]. Like, here's a replica of the Liberty Bell that's almost finished…. I cut it out to the shape, I glue it together and then I sculpt it out using different tools, whether it be a knife or sanding materials. At the end, I put on the drywall mud, which is like [the mud] you would put on your wall. And then I sand it. The reason I do that is that when [Patrick Keough, of America's Fiberglass Animals] comes to take it back to Nebraska to make the molds, if it's not covered, it'll just get eaten out. But if it has a covering on it, it will be fine. Once it's out there, the original sculpture gets totally ruined and thrown away after he makes a mold of it.

So if it's a piece like this where he's going to make a mold and make however many he wants, then that's it from my end. If it's a piece like the [Udder Place cow] up in Brunswick, I could leave it like this, with drywall mud on it, and then it just gets fiberglass on top.



So this Liberty Bell, is there going to be a Bells on Parade in Philadelphia?
This one, believe it or not, isn't for a city-wide project. It's going to Texas to a single guy. But [Keough] wants to make a mold, because of the possibility of using it again.

Then would you get it back to paint?
Sometimes. We just did a big project in Vero Beach [Florida], where this was big destruction from a hurricane a couple years ago. They're trying to rejuvenate the area. So they did turtles, and I ended up doing one with the [Los Angeles] Dodgers — they have their training camp down there. Anytime there's a city-wide project, I end up painting one, and then they usually fly me out for the charity auction. Like that turtle one went for $28,000.

So this guy is getting a private bell. Let's say I wanted a Yeti for my yard. How much would that cost?
I'm not sure. I get like $2,500 for sculpting it, so a single one can be pricey. But if [Keough's] already got the mold, like the little cow or the little horse in my front yard, I think they're like $500, unpainted. If I paint it, it's a little bit more.

How many people do what you do throughout the country?
Three, including me. [Keough] said it's tough to find artists who will do the work and do it on time, so even though I'm here in Maine, it's worth it. And he has enough business on the East Coast that usually he'll combine coming here with a trip somewhere else around here, like New York.

And you do all the work here in the garage?
In the garage and in the driveway. And my dad is an engineer by trade, so he does all the measurements for me. So he'll come over and we'll work together, and it's so fun.

Patrick is hoping to pick up a 10-foot Statue of Liberty at the end of June, so that one we'll do in the driveway. When we have rainy weather, it's tough — you can work in it, but it's no fun. In the winter, I still have to work in the driveway sometimes if it's a big one.

How long were you living here before your first neighbor came by like, 'What the hell is going on here?'
My neighbors are great. They just accept them. The best part is the little kids come down and rub them. There's this one little girl, she would come here every day and pet them.



How long are the sculptures typically in your yard?
That depends on Patrick's schedule. Usually about six months. Except the horses — they're kind of mine, so they're always here.

Was it through Keough's company that you got the Liv Tyler thing?
Yeah. That was another art project. She sponsored one, and I got to paint it and then go out there to the Rock 'n' Roll of Fame. That was so much fun.

With the city-wide projects, are the pieces usually auctioned off?
That's the whole idea. Companies sponsor one, and it supports local artists. They get paid usually about $1,000 to paint one. And then they're put out on the sidewalks to generate business. And at the end, they do a big auction and all the money they raise goes to charity. So it's a really neat thing.

Have you had to cut back on painting because of getting so busy with the sculptures?
I can't not paint. I like the sculpting — it's fun and it's always different and it's always a challenge, but painting, I have to do that.

Making a Buck in Maine profiles interesting people with interesting jobs, and appears biweekly in The Bollard. To suggest a subject, write to Scott Douglas at scott@scottdouglas.biz.