The Warmth of Bronze

Art has a unique way of connecting us to the intangible: feelings, memories and dreams that words often fail to capture. For artist Liliana M. de Gutierrez, the journey began with a childlike fascination for creating something with her hands, sparked by a dream of carving her own Pinocchio. Over the years, this curiosity evolved into a profound passion for sculpture, a medium that allows her to shape not just forms but emotions. Inspired by the tenderness of children, the grace of women and the vibrant colors of the tropics, her works transcend mere materials like bronze or marble to tell deeply human stories. In this exclusive feature for Luxiere, she shares her creative process, the magic of patinas and her vision for making her art accessible to the world.

Can you share the moment or experience that first inspired your journey into sculpting, particularly working with bronze?

I have always loved sculpture, even without realizing it. I was just a little girl when I dreamed of making a wooden Pinocchio with my own hands. In fact, I did make one, but using paper bags. My mother enrolled me in art and painting classes, but my true passion was sculpture. Being able to touch, hold and enjoy the third dimension felt like an incredible dream. Years later, I had the opportunity to go to Washington, D.C., to the Corcoran School of Art. It was there that I saw, for the first time, a student working on a bronze sculpture of a mother embracing her child. I thought, “I want to make one of those.” That was the moment I realized sculpture was my calling and passion, because I fell completely in love with it.

Your work often highlights the human form, with a special focus on children and women. What draws you to these subjects, and what story are you hoping to tell through them?

The truth is, children and women inspire me the most. Their innocence, sincerity, simplicity, tenderness and love are unparalleled. Women, with their rounded forms — especially in adulthood — are subtle, and through them, I convey the maternal love they embody. It is the greatest kind of love: eternal, selfless and unique, just like children.

The lost wax technique and your unique practice of patinating your sculptures yourself are rare and meticulous processes. What inspired you to take such a hands-on approach, and how does it influence the final piece?

I never delegate the patinas because, even before finishing the piece, I have already visualized how it will look completed, including its tones and colors. For me, patinas bring the work to life through their nuances, expressing emotions that only the creator of the piece can convey, as they come from the deepest parts of their being and mind.

Your sculptures have been described as serene yet dynamic, capturing extraordinary moments in ordinary lives. How do you achieve such depth and emotion through the cold, rigid medium of bronze?

To create, you must imagine, feel and live what you are doing. When I start a piece, I never think about the cold bronze, marble or any material that might be used for its final finish. My focus is on bringing those characters to life through the emotions they and I are feeling. Sometimes, I’ve even kissed some of the sculptures, because the connection is so profound that I begin to feel what they feel and express those emotions with them. This is why, even when cast in bronze — a cold metal — the sculptures radiate warmth.

Having studied at both the Corcoran School of Art in Washington, D.C., and Neptalí Rincón School of Art in Venezuela, how did these diverse artistic environments shape your style and vision as a sculptor?

Undoubtedly, what influenced me the most in patinas were the colors of the tropics. Both schools I attended were extraordinary, but in Venezuela, I had a teacher who was out of this world — José Nicanor Fajardo. He believed in me and motivated me.

Your heritage and upbringing in Maracaibo, Venezuela, are rich with culture and history. How does your background influence your artistic expression today?

The traits of my characters, the diversity of races I depict in my works and the sensitivity and empathy I feel for the poorest or those most in need of love all influence my art.

You name many of your characters, like Nathaly, La Griega, Sofia and Sebastian, giving them identities and stories. Can you tell us about the process of creating these characters and what they mean to you?

I often give my sculptures names because I bring them to life and share their emotions along with my own. I come to know their lives—what they’ve lived through, what they are experiencing, their projects and their desires. Some of them I’ve even dreamed about, seeing them in my dreams, sharing their thoughts and intimacy, like the young French girl Nathaly. Other sculptures become like children, confidants or great friends to me.

Your work has found a place among international art lovers and collectors. What does it mean to you to see your sculptures appreciated across different cultures and continents?

It means a lot to me, and I conclude that we are a beautiful species on this lovely planet. Language doesn’t matter because there is a universal one: art. We feel similarly anywhere in the world and live in a shared home called planet Earth. No matter our latitude, we can understand each other’s emotions through art.

Bronze sculptures often carry a timeless quality, yet your pieces are described as continuously revealing something new to the viewer. How do you design your work to evoke this enduring intrigue?

Although my work is quite classical, in recent years, I’ve added a touch of magic, making the heavy bronze appear weightless, as if floating in the air. I’ve incorporated balance as part of the piece. For instance, I’ve created boats suspended by oars or a net hanging from the boat, or the outstretched arm of a child climbing onto it. Another example is a woman in a hammock, lying down and relaxed, with only one foot touching the ground to support the immense weight of the entire sculpture. These details make my work very interesting, but, as I mentioned earlier, the expressions on the faces make each piece unique.

Looking back at your journey and forward to the future, what legacy do you hope your sculptures leave behind in the art world?

The truth is, I dream of seeing some of my works in large formats for urban open spaces, where many people can enjoy them, rather than being limited to private homes or collectors. I think they would look incredible, and it would be a significant challenge for me. I have gotten the opportunity to do so in Venezuela, but being able to have my work in public spaces in this country I now call home would be a dream come true.