Full breeze sculpture

At the beginning there was the verb, as usual. And the verb says: 'Francois, I would like a sculpture in the Park, which could produce a bit of electricity.'

That was a wish that deserved reflexion! The land is a hill like in a comic book, like the fat end of an egg covered with grass popping out in an undulating pastoral, where it would be easier to bump into a bunch of deer than a rambler.

The house, slightly down hill, is a XIX century hop drying-shed. The living area is flanked by two round twin towers, which are covered with tiled conical roofs that are crowned by a natural ventilation system. A chosen place for Eole. This sculpture will have to be a wind turbine. The trust that a sponsor confides in you is the creation's main engine; reciprocity is true.

The means for this commission was consequential. This allowed me to fly high without time barriers or money worries. This is utter luxury. It is also a privilege to have a sponsor who knows what trust means; somebody who doesn't fidget with the twenty-fifth sentence of a twelve-page contract, which is usually imposed by a white-collar committee much more concerned to justify their emoluments than anything else. Particularly when they are the ones who know what Art should be; aren't they paid for that?

It's another type of treatment to hear a simple: 'Do!' Alchemy between the one who offers the means and the one who dedicates his time and passion is always elusive. Sometimes it produces a firework, an emotional blitz, like in the Gainsbourg's song Je t'aime, moi non plus. In any case, even if alienated by technical matters, aesthetics is primordial.

The welded seams delimitate panels that sail makers will recognise. The upper lines invite for a take off; the UFO is ready to fly, wings spread in the wind. The lower lines, amplified by a bellow effect, secure it to the ground, all claws out. The functions' dichotomy generates the forms' contrast. From the building point of view, the main concern is equilibrium, therefore precision.

The axis have to be clamped properly, masses have to be identical and volumes similar. And this is not an easy exercise with brass, which has the annoying particularity to move the wrong way when heated, but may after all come back into position, if asked gently. Really, it's a school exercise, but the rigor that mechanics requires is the same than sculptural aspiration, like the manifestation of mutual evidences. So, that a wind turbine spins, even when it's a sculpture, is a good start; but to produce energy with it is another story.

There are no alternators or dynamos available on the market adapted to this situation. The trivial solution would be a large wheel with peripheral magnets exciting fixed coils. But aesthetically, I wasn't keen on a contraption spinning at the bum of the beast, without mentioning the high starting torque. At the end, I've decided on a dynamo, two head to tail moped magnetic wheels, four resized coils and a shoe centrifugal clutch; all that for an overall multiplication of 15.

Roughly, there are three ways to produce mechanical energy with wind: " The propeller, which is the best for speed, power and performance, but has a limited sculptural potential. " The Darrieus rotor that is close to a helicopter blade. It's very efficient, much more open, but as it's not self-supporting, it requires an external structure. " And the Savonius rotor, which is based on the differential drag of diverse amount and shape plates, like a three semi-spherical plate anemometer used for weather forecast.

This wind turbine is a Savonius conception. It has a vertical axis and three wings made of brass, which should be able to capture mild winds to be in movement as well as to reduce wing surface by strong breeze. The wings are therefore moving and are auto regulated by centrifugal force, operating as a sort of Watt regulator. A centralised return torque, made with a spring unit, controls the whole thing. By light breeze, the movement starts all wings out and switches on the alternator at around 15 revolutions per minute producing 17 volts.

The battery begins to charge at 20 rev/minute. The wing surface gets reduced when reaching 30, and you get a cruising speed in bad weather under staysail at around 45 rev/minute.

The whole thing remains a sculpture that even if it produces, it is not a means of productivity. The wings ought to be similar, made out of the same pattern, element by element, welded on two sides following the same shape, connected in parallel and in random circular permutation. Each element is cold-perforated then heat-distorted to put it in place thanks to differential expansion, without any hammering; roundness will have more plasticity. It's a long job, but a great result.

The central mechanics is controlled by a spring from a car suspension, giving around 50 kilos per five centimetres. Its upper part is resting on an adjustable plate to adapt the return torque to the rotation speed. It is important that the dynamo clicks on slightly before the wings close to avoid clanks in the mechanism. The spring's lower part is enclosed in a support made of fibre glass, compressed by three cables coupled to the wings' rotation axis. The sheaves are made of bronze. The axis, cams and other parts like bearings are in stainless steel.

The big advantage is that the return torque is equally spread on the three mobile elements; their movements are synchronised. The shaft, made out of a boat engine valve that has been reshaped and hardened, is fixed vertically in between two tapered roller bearings. In-between these two, a differential gearbox output converts the vertical movement into horizontal on a 25 cm resin block connected to the clutch with a grooved belt. A spiral spring tension regulator absorbs the jolts of the alternator, and minimises wearing issues.

Although reasonable, some frictions occur through the whole thing, credit to a hand-full of inline bearings.

Ten months, it's a long battle that is closer to a long-distance run than an over-powered sprint. It can't be won single-handed. Stewardship and health services are essential. As for stewardship, one can find bit-by-bit good addresses, and a few emails are enough to order and receive anything fast. And when providers start to enjoy impossible tasks, it helps.

On the local side, many feel involved in such a process, perceive the complexity of the challenge, attempt to own a bit of it and do as much as they can to help occasionally. From the mechanic who takes apart an automatic gearbox to extract a specific part that I was hoping to use, to the gearbox's owner who wants to know where the part will be going; from the fine mechanics company that I use sometimes, when my own equipment can't perform the task, try its best to make the part, to the Fenwicks and other tractors that cheerfully appear like a miracle when needed; from the village kids who give a hand when two are not enough to the coffee that appears on the local bar counter as soon as someone hears the Motobecane arriving; without forgetting friends of course, who seem to organise shifts in circular permutation to maintain troops' moral, and without whom the boat would have mergitur because of the fluctuat.

Anyway, a collective energy flourishes around the project. This energy feeds the beast, and makes you stay on course. But it's the same course that generates its own wind, when sailing close-hauled. And who can tell who's first from the egg or the chicken? In any case, one can quibble for a long time about what and how in art.

Is there an answer? But if we at least agree that the role of the 'artist' is to create, then to generate energy, whether moral or physical, individual or collective, wouldn't that be an asymptote? After all and for once, usual daft questions may be avoided like 'Is it really a bird?' when standing next to something with two legs, two wings, a head and a beak.

Or even better and coming from a Conseil Général representative who made a lengthy visit at my workshop 'Who do you consult for the design?' Otherwise and following vigorous comments of astonishment and support, even dithyrambic compliments, you get 'And other than this, what do you do for a living?' or 'And really, there are people buying that?'

It's a long list and everyone has an anthology on the subject. We could classify them by themes and deliver some medals when novelties come out of the blue. Anyway, would you believe it if I tell you that I got the best of all, the instant killer: 'The battery, is it to make it turn?'...

FH

translation : Corine Fegan