Article from NOW magazine, a supplement to the Durango Herald, March 29 - April 4, 1991

Cast in Bronze
McCarthy overcomes plane crash injuries to sculpt again

By Charlie Langdon
NOW magazine Staff Writer

Kevin McCarthy staggered out of the flaming wreckage into the corn field. His wife, Jacqueline, was just behind him and they paused, gazing in wonder at the corn.

"It was green," he said, "vibrant green, shimmering in the hot sun, but I was trembling with cold from shock."

McCarthy was severely injured, sure his back was broken. His legs weren't working properly, and he had tightened his trouser belt as a brace to keep himself upright.

"Don't stop," a rescue worker shouted, and the young couple stumbled away from the burning DC-10.

McCarthy, a resident of La Plata Canyon and, at 35, one of the most accomplished sculptors in the United States, survived the crash of United Flight 232 on July 19, 1989.

He and Jackie, who also suffered a broken back in the crash, were traveling to a family gathering on the Mississippi River when one of the plane's engines exploded, damaging the hydraulic steering system. Despite heroic efforts by the pilot, the airliner went down in the field near Iowa City, killing 112 of the 296 passengers.

Earlier this week, 20 months after the crash, McCarthy sat in his log home discussing the lessons learned from an unforgettable past and a peaceful, productive present. Jackie sat nearby, holding five-week old Maria.

"Yes, I'm back at work," he said. "A lot of people are glad about that, I suppose." He laughed and added. "While I was recovering, people in the art world would call and ask how the work was coming along. 'Oh, I know you were in a plane crash, but...' And there I was flat on my back."

McCarthy was in a body cast for three months after the crash. His recovery was slow and painful. Indeed, some pain continues and may be with him for life. Jackie's injuries, although painful, were not as serious as her husband's. For therapy, the McCarthys swim daily.

The sculptor's first post-crash work, "Calling the Buffalo," was completed a few weeks ago, and is currently being cast at the Bronzesmith Foundry in Flagstaff.

"It took nine months before I was satisfied with it," McCarthy said. "That's the same amount of time it took to create Maria. Of course, Maria's a superior creation."

McCarthy generally produces one or perhaps two sculptures a year. He learned patience from his father, the celebrated western painter, Frank C. McCarthy, "Dad taught me to take my time," McCarthy said. "That's good advice for any artist, but particularly so with a sculptor. A painting might be here and gone in no time, but a bronze sculpture is around for a long, long time. Also, prospective buyers take more time deciding on a sculpture. " He learned other valuable things while growing up and scampering around his father's studio in Westport, Conn. He mastered fundamentals and learned to pay close attention to detail. "My father jumps on things that other people don't even notice. He's quick to point out any deficiency and he knows when something is or isn't finished."

Young McCarthy was concentrating on sculpture while he was still in high school, and was selling his work regularly by the time he was 20.

He was not, however, always fortunate in his art education. For example, his work was largely disapproved of at the Wooster Art Center in Danbury, Conn. "I don't know how it is not," McCarthy said, "but then the instructors urged you to work in modern and abstract expressionist styles." He had no interest in abstract expressionism. "Finally, I practically had to drag what I wanted to learn out of the teachers."

But he learned enough, so that sales from his sculpture helped pay for his schooling at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, where he majored in geology. "Sculpting was my summer job," McCarthy said. "I completed several works in a short time every summer. Of course, I didn't get much sleep."

It was at Northern Arizona that McCarthy encountered Tuck Williams, a professor of anatomy, who proved crucial to his art career. Williams classes concentrated on wire sculpting the human form, starting with the skeleton and working outward through all the muscles to the skin.

"It was painstaking and exhausting," McCarthy pointed out. "But in the end, I had a full understanding of human anatomy." He later discovered that he was free to visualize and draw a figure in any pose he wanted.

It was this unique ability that served him well during his long convalescence following the crash of Flight 232. "I can't stand for long hours working with my hands," McCarthy said, "but I can work things out in my head."

For "Calling the Buffalo," he first visualized it from every side. He then sketched it. When he knew it was what he wanted, he went to the studio and set to work.

Once a work is completed in clay, McCarthy has an edition of 20 cast in bronze. "For a long time I did my own casting," McCarthy said. Indeed he worked in several foundries, including Forrest Fenn's in Santa Fe. "I enjoyed it, and in fact I miss it, but I found that it took so much of my time, that I couldn't get back to the creative work."

Working in conjunction with galleries in New York, Chicago, Carmel, Scottsdale and Jackson Hole, demand for McCarthy's work is high. He's currently at work on his next figure, a warrior on horseback. It will be some months before it will be seen by anyone.

In the meantime, Kevin McCarthy will continue healing, working and watching his infant daughter grow. "My experience has surely enhanced my love for art," McCarthy said. "I know more than ever that it's what I want to do with my life. But I've also learned that simply surviving is a kind of success, too."