by Ann Gilbert
Phillip Sage has two great loves: running a polo pony across a flat field and producing intaglio prints (etchings) of his favorite French Quarter haunts, from the Napoleon House to Galatoire’s.
He successfully indulges both passions, devoting time to creating and showing his work, as well as to playing polo at the Folsom Equestrian Center. The polo season is roughly from Labor Day until mid-November, and from April through June. “My art pays for my hobby,” Sage says. “Once in a while, I have to produce something to pay for it all.”
Home for the artist is eight rural acres not far from Global Wildlife Center. It’s a quiet piece of land you would never stumble upon. Surrounding the yellow house are three brown barns, all built by Sage. He calls the homestead “Rivendell,” noting, “It’s basically a one-man farm.” He largely spends his days taking care of his horses. “The pony is 80 percent of the game in polo. It takes four to six horses to be active in a polo club. I work them and groom them, but it would be nice to have someone to fix the fences sometimes.” A big grin crosses his face.
On a brisk sunny afternoon, he strolls the paddocks, anticipating the future of one young stallion, soon to become a gelding. “He’s going to be tall and beautiful, probably 15 feet 3 inches—a nice size for an Arabian.
Riding helps to keep him young, says Sage, a congenial sort of fellow. “It takes four to five years to learn to ride, and then it’s fun. I love being on the back of a horse and riding flat out. The thrill is beyond anything. I can’t put it into words. You are using the horse to the best of his potential. I don’t recommend you fall off.”
Sage has had his share of falls, breaking some ribs once, and two vertebrae at another time. “That was a Christopher Reeve fall. I was lucky; it was just a little lower.” He was in therapy for five months.
The New Hampshire resident came to New Orleans 38 years ago and never left. He’s been invited to move to Colorado, but would never forsake what he calls the “finest climate” for the snowbound west. Besides, this is the most inexpensive state in which to raise horses, he says. And what would he do without New Orleans scenes to capture in his art?
In addition to the traditional streetcars, Andrew Jackson statue, St. Louis Cathedral and the French Market, Sage has produced a series on the Crescent City’s favorite watering holes and restaurants, including the Napoleon House, Pat O’Brien’s, Tipitina’s, Galatoire’s, Antoine’s, Arnaud’s, Commander’s Palace and Brennan’s. He calls the miniatures of these scenes “tourist potboilers.”
Sage prints 200 etchings of each design. He received a phone call recently from someone who had inherited four of his etchings with ’70s dates. Sage purchased his old works, and promptly sold them at the next New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival for considerably more than the ’70s price.
His art studio is located on the bottom floor of his house. Antique rugs and colonial-style hook rugs are scattered across the cement floor. On the walls hang remembrances of other times, three hunting bows from the days he could “shoot a bird on the wing as a young man in New Hampshire,” and an ego plate, “57Bird,” from one of the two antique Thunderbirds he restored himself. “I should have never sold that T-Bird,” he says, pulling out a dusty photo of a young Sage leaning on the hood of the prized possession.
Each piece of the equipment in the studio has a story. The press is from England. It sat on a dock for months during a period when imports were restricted. The thick marble slab on which the French inks are placed was a partition in a men’s rest room. A friend sent him to a kitchen equipment sale, and there he found an old commercial hamburger grill that is perfect for heating the inks.
In the process of making an etching, the artist sketches his drawing in reverse and in the negative on tissue paper containing chalk, which leaves an impression on the copper plate underneath. The detailed work is done directly on the plate using special etching needles. “You don’t waste time putting details on the tissue sketch,” Sage explains. The plate is coated, and not much pressure is needed to create the design.
After an acid bath, the plate is inked, put on the press and the print “cranked out” by turning a huge iron wheel. Nothing is mechanized in producing etchings. Sage used to be able to produce 140 single-strike etchings in day. Now he says he’s satisfied to crank out 10 four-color prints, which involves cranking the press 40 times. Other works are black and white, or black and ochre, which produce a sepia effect.
Sage does his own framing, saying that, for a paper artist, presentation is primary. He paid for a “chopper” to cut the molding with some of his prints—a lot of prints. It was something he really wanted.
His art almost forced Sage to give up polo. The acid he has been working with burned his lungs and caused asthma. “After two chuckers (innings) I would be out of breath. I paid the price, but now, with medications, I’ve got my wind back. Art can be a hazardous life, if we don’t pay attention to the materials we use.”
The 62-year-old admits he and some of his polo buddies may not be hitting the ball as well as they used to, and they don’t have the reflexes of their earlier years, but the team still brings home trophies. “We play to have fun.”
Phillip Sage’s art and commission assignments are handled through his studio at Rivendell, 796-3492.
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