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silver sculpture displayed — a fish, a dancer, a man. (Umana has his own forge at his Timberlake residence.) A particularly interesting piece de picted, somewhat abstractly, a mother with child.
In his small well-lighted work shop, photographs of Helen performing, sound tracks of the musical accompani ments to these performances and an elaborate stereo system claimed the wall. I noticed an old printing press carefully set in one corner and covered to prevent moisture from corroding it. Several completed but unframed canvasses leaned against an easel that held an unfinished painting of flowers done in blues and purples. Another wall was devoted to a workbench sploched with a rainbow of colors and cluttered with chisels, files, spatulas and the like. Outside, on an open brick and slate terrace “rough” marble awaited Umana’s nimble fingers.
As Tennyson said in Ulysses: “I Alfonso Umana
[Umana] am a part of all that I have met.” Umana depicts the world and its inhabitants. His walls sport the faces and silhouettes of many people — each one different yet subtlely alike. Umana can name each such model and discuss them at length. He can be likened to a poet with one dif-
Imaginary Landscape *33 — oil
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Street People of the Sixties — oil
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