Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Tom Sarver. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Hi Tom, thanks for joining us today. We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.

I’ve had the urge to make things — everything from paintings, installations and sculptural gadgets — since I was child in the 1980’s. I was always taking appliances apart, using the parts and motors for my own inventions. I created multi-media performances in my basement with slide projectors, sound effects records and model train dioramas. I had some great art teachers. In elementary school, Holly Pultz encouraged my parents to enroll me in the Saturday Art Connection Program at the Carnegie Museum of Art. The intensive program, with alumni including Andy Warhol and Jeff Goldblum, was a mind-blowing experience. I learned how to look closely at art, to get inside the mind of the artist and think about their interpretations of the world. As a professional artist, I went back to teach that program for four years. Another mentor was James Rettinger, assemblage artist and high school art teacher. He leant me art books from his personal library, made sure that I had a studio space in the school, and kept me well-stocked with paint, canvas and stretcher bars. I made a lot of personal works at that time, abstracted in a Georgia O’Keeffe meets Willem de Kooning fashion.

I attended Tyler School of Art, Philadelphia in the 1990’s. I wanted to learn every craft they offered but eventually gravitated towards painting. There wasn’t a lot of crossover between the departments back then. I also started work in a subject that the school didn’t offer — puppetry. It started as doodles in a sketchbook. Then paper cutout characters. Then I found a bunch of scrap wood and made a whole collection. I made paintings from arrangements of these characters and started performing crude shows where characters struggled through the awkward moments of life. Art school was an incredible experience. I may not have learned the most practical skills, but I gained the confidence to realize large-scale independent projects later on.

Gregory’s Lecture, 2022, acrylic on canvas, 20″ x 16″. A memory of the Black Sheep Puppet Festival at Brew House Arts, Pittsburgh.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

I began my professional art career in 1997 in Pittsburgh. There was a gritty, emerging art scene with artists and musicians creating work in old factory buildings and warehouses. I met a group of sculptors, the Industrial Arts Co-op, with a large welding shop in the Brew House, a run-down industrial building that was being transformed into artist living spaces and workshops. The sculptors envisioned having a national festival of experimental puppetry in their shop. It was a wild idea, but I eagerly joined the effort. We produced the Black Sheep Puppet Festival, an event that I worked on for ten consecutive years, in various roles including puppeteer, educator, curator and director. Over that time, I established a studio and living space within the Brew House. I began collaborating with Michael Cuccaro to develop puppet shows to play at museums and events.

My experiences at the Brew House set me on a path to a series of large-scale projects at museums, galleries, festivals and theaters. My projects involve a mix of curatorial skills, facilitation, puppetry, installation, and object making.

The Tom Museum (2006-2008) was an interactive exhibition that I created at the Mattress Factory Museum of Art. For the project, I lived in, and constantly transformed, a row-house next to the museum into a museum of many installations and exhibitions. I had shows for self-taught artists. I made critical works that focused on the environment, but also created whimsical interactive pieces (including a miniature golf course running through the house). I made lunch and performed puppet shows for visitors.
I started a project called Art Olympic Theater in the Mattress Factory museum lobby in 2007. I wanted to create a live-action art making event inspired by the various reality cooking shows popular at the time. The event involved three teams of artists (four people per team) constructing work out of piles of junk over a two hour period. The audience was involved with commentary throughout the event. Teams were judged on their performance, their use of materials, and the impact of their final installation. I ran ten of these events over a ten year period at public parks, museums and theaters.

Sarver’s Bait & Tackle (2009) drew on another lifelong interest. I created a storefront installation for the Three Rivers Arts Festival exploring the art of fishing. I occupied the installation during the festival as proprietor, handing out fishing tips and hosting events. With the popularity of outdoor activities in Western Pennsylvania, the project was very popular. I’ve continued to create fish art and often re-create the installation in a smaller form at art fairs.

During the Covid-19 Pandemic I wanted to create a means to connect artists working with puppetry. It was impossible to do live theater. I created an online program (supported by Pittsburgh Center for Arts & Media) called Virtual Puppetry Residency. I ran four sessions of the six-week residency, working with over a hundred performers from twenty countries. At the culmination of each residency, we produced a live show on Zoom, viewable to audiences around the globe. In many ways this was my favorite project. The project was all about creating a global community. Participants adapted their work into shows that can be viewed over the internet. Artists of all career levels took part, but there was no hierarchy within the community. All members listened and worked to uplift the work of their peers. It was a beautiful experience.

Also during the Pandemic, I created a series of paintings, thinking back to my early career and my memories of organizing the Black Sheep Puppet festival. For these pieces, I tried to visualize key memories. I then sketched each idea on paper before beginning an acrylic on canvas work. I’m hoping the paintings help to strengthen the historical significance of the festival.

Puppet Parade, 2021, acrylic on canvas, 30″ x 30″. A memory of the Black Sheep Puppet Festival at Brew House Arts, Pittsburgh.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.

In my journey as a creative, there are many times when my work doesn’t make sense. A project may not be generating income for long periods of time. It may take a while to realize the work. The work might not be popular. It may offend some people’s sensibilities.

I think artists are wired to put all of their energy into what they are passionate about. This can lead to frustration and disappointment, but when the hurdles are overcome and something big happens, it is profound and satisfying. The big moment could involve opening a person or group’s mind to a new point of view. It could involve spreading empathy and understanding though the narrative of a puppet show. It could involve creating new community relationships through bringing people of different backgrounds together on a project. It’s difficult to quantify these moments.

Rooftop Party, 2022, acrylic on canvas, 14″ x 11″. A memory of the Black Sheep Puppet Festival at Brew House Arts, Pittsburgh.

Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?

There was a time when teaching began to take up almost all of my creative energy. I enjoyed teaching art. I was always improving as a teacher. I was realizing many of the same successes that I experienced in my art projects, but I found it was taking more and more of my time. Eventually I had to stop and make my projects the top priority.

I think it’s important to stop and reflect on the big things you would like to accomplish in life. I don’t think a pivot always needs to lead to another path. Sometimes a break is good.

The Green Room, 2022, acrylic on canvas, 18″ x 14″. A memory of the Black Sheep Puppet Festival at Brew House Arts, Pittsburgh.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://tomsarver.com/
• Instagram: @tomsarver

Image Credits
Larry Rippel