REPORTER’S NOTEBOOK

Sculptor’s spirit lives on in his work

By: Susan Van Dongen
   A birthday surprise has turned bittersweet since the death of Raymon Taylor, a jovial, generous, creative fellow who lived up the street from us in Bordentown. He’s the guy who took metal scraps of whatever and welded them into works of art. Mr. Taylor seemed to especially love birds and I can’t tell you how many times we walked past his yard and said "we have to get one of those egrets, or that pelican or that whatchamacallit."
   Having moved to Bordentown City recently, we said we were going to drop in on our found-object artist neighbor and get better acquainted. I had written about Mr. Taylor in 2001 for TimeOFF magazine, but our paths hadn’t crossed much since then. We did pass through his place at Christmastime 2003, on the house tour, when it was decorated to the hilt and Mr. Taylor beamed like a kid, handing out candy canes to his guests.
   I was in Plainsboro doing something on Saturday the 16th, and my husband, planning a surprise, walked over to Mr. Taylor’s, where he had recently opened his studio to the public and was displaying his things for sale.
   When I came home, my husband said, "There’s something fun for you but it’s so big, it’s in the basement."
   Another something fun was wrapped in a kind of improvisatory way, had an odd shape and I couldn’t imagine what it was. I closed my eyes as my husband brought the big thing up to the porch. I thought I was getting a kayak, so when I opened my eyes and saw a metal pelican catching a neon blue fish, I thought, "hmmmmmm."
   "It’s a Ray Taylor," my husband said. Of course it was! Who else would make a pelican out of a tailpipe and a circular saw and spray paint the feet bright orange?
   "He threw this in for you, to thank you for the article you wrote about him," my husband said. "Ray must have shaken my hand five times."
   The thank you gift was a foot-tall raptor-like critter, with bulging brown metal balls for eyes. It was so new, I could smell the recent paint job, also in neon blue like the pelican’s prey.
   It was night time and getting late, and we had to travel to another part of the state the next day, so we weren’t able to thank Mr. Taylor the weekend of the 16th, but we vowed to walk over and say "hi" the following weekend.
   We never got the chance because he died from a massive heart attack, June 20. At first, neighbors only knew that EMTs and a fire engine had been in front of the historic house in the middle of the week, and one wondered if there was a fire in Mr. Taylor’s studio. He did do a considerable amount of welding, after all. Then later in the week, another neighbor told us Mr. Taylor had died. We were both shocked.
   By the way, the raptor was signed "Raymon," and numbered "2007, 888." The pelican was also a recent creation — "2007, 876." It was signed and also had "Celebrate New Hampshire" written on it, an homage to Mr. Taylor’s vacation home and studio in New England.
   We wondered if the raptor was one of the last things he created? Now the two sculptures seem a lot more meaningful for a birthday present than a kayak.
   Thank you for your "thank you sculpture," Ray. We’re sorry we didn’t get a chance to be neighbors for very long. But your works have a place on honor on our porch, and have both been named. "Bob" is the raptor. "Ray" is the pelican.
Susan Van Dongen is the TimeOFF arts writer and a Bordentown resident.