For most people, cardboard is a throwaway material. But for Wisconsin native Warren King, cardboard is what he uses to tell his family’s story.
King’s cardboard sculptures explore his family’s path from China to Wisconsin. He says if it wasn’t for sculpting them, he wouldn’t have learned how his ancestors helped shape him.
King says sculpting with cardboard is challenging, but that's why he uses it. He compares it to wood — it has a grainy texture and distinct visual character. It’s rigid, but also flexible.
"Once you glue it on, it's very hard to adjust it or change or move it," he says. "Each piece that you put on, you have to think three steps ahead. So, there's a lot of deliberation before you ever put on a piece."
From engineer to artist
King began creating cardboard figures around 2014. He didn’t have a background in art. He first worked as a structural engineer for his father's engineering firm in Wisconsin, after earning degrees from MIT and Stanford University.
"It was always his dream from the very beginning to have his children take over the business," King says. "Starting from the time when I was able to hold a pen, he was training us to do drafting, to run blueprints, to help run the office."
When King left his father's company, he says his dad felt betrayed.
"Our relationship was very rocky for several years. It was very difficult to speak with him, and it was a lot of anger. But as the years unfolded, I eventually got into art. Once I started to really dig into the themes — family histories and things like that, well, my dad, he turned out to be an amazing keeper of these memories."
Growing up, King didn't know much about his Chinese heritage. He was eager to leave the Midwest and never look back. It wasn't until adulthood, and his pursuit of becoming an artist, that he felt compelled to understand his ancestry with the help of his dad.
"His memory is wonderful," says King. "His attention to detail and his storytelling ability was fantastic. Once I discovered this, then it opened up a whole new way for us to communicate."
Eight of King’s cardboard sculptures are included in the exhibition called “Homecoming." It’s on display at Lynden Sculpture Garden in River Hills.
His piece titled “The Road Leads Home” honors his grandmother, who was raised during the Warlord Era in China. That was a 12-year period that started in 1916, which saw military factions vying for power after the Chinese president’s death.
But despite her tough upbringing, her greatest hardship would come years later when her husband, a combat pilot, was called away to defend China from Japanese attacks.
King's grandmother was determined to reunite the family. So, she made the 125-mile trek from Guilin to Chongqing with her infant son.
"She sold all her belongings, borrowed some money from her parents and just gathered what she could," King says. "She was worried about being robbed along the way because the roads to the city were full of bandits, so she converted her money into a few gold coins and sewed them into her clothes to hide them. She strapped her baby to her back and just set off on foot."
The sculpture depicts that scene exactly. Three gold coins adorn his grandmother’s clothes. Her face wears a somber expression. Her heavy eyelids and slight frown reflect her turbulent journey. Remember, all this is portrayed using cardboard.
"She survived some of the most difficult bombings in China during that time," says King. "Her memories are of hiding in sewer tunnels, fleeing fire-bombing campaigns. She went through poverty."
Revelations
Before sculpting human figures, King wanted to make simple toys for his children, so he just used what was around the house: cardboard.
"It wasn’t until later that I discovered that the meaning of using an ephemeral material really translated well to the themes that I’m pursuing," he says.
I asked King why he believes some families, and immigrant families in particular, sometimes avoid discussions about past traumas.
"I have always wondered about that," he says. "Part of it could be shame about how things turned out. Part of it could be, and part of it is, that she never imagined that we would have interest in it. The few times that I brought this up, she kind of asked, 'Well, why do you want to know about that?' As if it had no bearing on my life."
King's work has been showcased in exhibitions around the world, including New York City, where he currently lives, and his former home in Sweden. I asked King what he hopes others take away from seeing his artwork.
"Whatever revelations that I have gotten from my thinking about this stuff, I'm not even sure how universal it is," he says. "But what I would like people to walk away with is just: how did I personally get to that point? What steps did I take or what barriers did I have to knock down to open my mind to receive these things? I would hope that people can walk away with that and do that for themselves. Because everyone has connections that they may have lost, forgotten about, but they're still there, they're still affecting you."
Warren King's "Homecoming" exhibition will be on display through November 15.
Lynden Sculpture Garden is a financial supporter of WUWM.
