The studio is a rococco profusion of large-leaf plants, ornatelycarved furniture, sculptures, masks, costumes and a phantasmagoric array of whatnots and doodads. Hand-painted lampshades and fanciful light fixtures of strange devising dangle from the ceiling alongside Casablancan propeller-fans, as does a three-foot pterodactyl (a functional kite) with a maiden dangling from its beak, and a delightful DaVinci-like airplane fashioned out of twigs and leaves.
Zebulon – Unfinished
Eve and Adam
The Tree House
Over to the side, a Tolkein-esque treehouse twists like a helix from tabletop to ceiling alongside a magnificent wooden table with a rotund base into which Rockey has carved an ingenious series of gargolye-like figures he calls “The Three Egos.” An arm’s-length away sits an imposing, straight-backed love seat with its headboard and armrests carved into caricatures, nudes and leafy patterns.
Midroom is dominated by a nine-foot plaster torso of a nude Zeubulon Pike that Rockey says was intended to be, and will one day still be, a bronze statue. To its side is a six-foot-high dressing screen upon which Rockey has painted life-sized, Rubenesque-proportioned male and female nudes cavorting lasciviously against a backdrop of classical arcadia. Rockey cut out oval holes where their faces would be in hope of enticing visitors to peek out and ham it up.
Rockey’s living quarters in the far back reaches of the studio consist mostly of a mattress on the floor adjacent to a simple, sparse and decidedly “rustic” kitchen. Fountain Creek flows by in melodious burble at the bottom of the backdoor steps.
These digs — purchased by Rockey back in 1972 for $17,000 — are a direct extension and manifestation of the playful irreverence and creative exuberance that drive his life and art. If he had the inclination and were he to play his cards right, C.H. Rockey could be rich, but he lives happily in near-Franciscan frugality amid a cornucopia treasure trove of art.
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