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    Thursday, April 18, 2024

    Artist David J. Marchi’s fanciful stone formations are attracting attention

    Artist David Marchi poses with some of his stone sculptures on display outside his Niantic home. (Sean D. Elliot/The Day)
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    Artist David J. Marchi’s fanciful stone formations are attracting attention

    Two women were taking a brisk walk on a mild and sunny September morning in Niantic when they came to a stop in front of a home on North Drive. The low stone wall in front was populated by an array of tiny rock sculptures. Some looked like shiny, artistically arranged cairns. Others were more elaborate and whimsical. Did that bald eagle, built with an avian-shaped stone, have a “rock egg” that hatched? Are those two flat stones serving as the bun for a burger in a diner meal? Do those round rocks create a summertime version of a snowman?

    The women looked over and spoke with the man who made these constructions, artist David J. Marchi, who was sitting on the patio in front of the house. They chatted amiably about the pieces, and the women smiled and said, “Cool” and “That’s amazing!” before heading off to continue their jaunt.

    This has happened a lot to Marchi since he began whipping up these little constructions and displaying them on the wall.

    “The most incredible thing for me is — I set up my computer, because I’m up at 5 — and I watch people walk and stop and look at smile and point,” Marchi says.

    “Now when I’m sitting out there, (it’s amazing) the number of people who walk by and say ‘Oh, my God, we come by here every day to see what’s new.’”

    He says he has met so many incredible people, and that has become an inspiration for his art.

    The catalyst for these rock sculptures, meanwhile, was his grandson, Elliot, who is now 3-1/2 and lives in Ridgefield.

    When Elliot would come to visit Niantic, he and Marchi would walk along the beach, pick up rocks, and build with them. When COVID restrictions began, they couldn’t see each other, and Marchi started building a rock pile for every week he couldn’t see Elliot. When they FaceTimed, Marchi would show him the latest construction.

    “He’d make a comment like ‘Grandpa, it’s too small’ or ‘Take that white rock off’ or something. I said, ‘Elliot, don’t be such a critic,’” Marchi says with a smile.

    It started with formations like you’d see on a hiking trail, but then Marchi would “find these rocks that looked like something in my mind — maybe it’s just my artistic way of seeing the world. I brought one back and thought I’d try something different; I’m going to make something out of it.”

    And people noticed. Folks told him they were building their own versions. Children walking by would ask if he could make, say, a turtle or a whale. He has since done both. 

    Inspiration during a pandemic

    Marchi and his partner have a home in Wilton but have been staying at their Niantic beach place ever since COVID-19 became so prevalent in Fairfield County in March. Marchi says he loves Niantic and the sense of community in the neighborhood. (He has also been travelling to New York City occasionally to meet with gallery owners.)

    Marchi, whose works as an artist tend to be vibrant, abstract paintings on large canvases, says, “An interesting thing happened with artists. When COVID hit, it was almost like there was no inspiration. There was more concern, worry about yourself, family, friends. It was very difficult for me to go into my studio and just start painting.”

    He attends the Art Students League of New York (which, during the coronavirus outbreak, has gone online) and said that more than half of the 35 or so people in his class were running into the issue with not feeling inspiration during the first part of the pandemic.

    He spoke with his art teacher about his rock work, and Marchi says the teacher told him, “You know, David, you are doing art. So just continue building your stone sculptures, and you can show them in class.” 

    Trauma and art

    Marchi has an intriguing backstory about his artistic side. He ran a marketing company with 20 offices around the world and didn’t paint until after he was involved in a boating accident five years ago where he fractured his spine and injured both wrists.

    Two weeks after his first back surgery, he says, he started dreaming about colors and hands moving the colors around. The dreams happened every night, and Marchi felt compelled to paint.

    “At the time, I didn’t think about, ‘Wow, what is this?’” he says of the sudden urge to paint.

    For the first painting he did, Marchi crushed up his medication, mixed it into the paint, and created with it. He says you can see pieces of the pills in the final work.

    He started out with small canvases but quickly moved to large, 40-by-60 pieces.

    The impulse to paint “was very confusing to me,” he says. “It took me a long time to call myself an artist because I didn’t have classic training or I wasn’t represented by a gallery.”

    He finally felt he could refer to himself as an artist when he finally started getting recognition — with his work showcased in galleries and attracting followers on Instagram.

    When he started out, he didn’t think about selling his paintings. Rather, he says, “my mission and objective was through my art to show people that out of any kind of traumatic experience — it could be a horrible divorce, it could be cancer, it could be whatever that person feels is a traumatic event in their lives — they need to open themselves up and tap into that creative part.”

    After losing some inspiration at the beginning of the pandemic, Marchi has since returned to painting.

    “I’m inspired now. I think this (creating rock sculptures) helped me center myself,” he says.

    “Fowler” by David J. Marchi
    Artist David Marchi's playful creations include this diner meal, which includes stones standing in for the burger bun. (Sean D. Elliot/The Day(
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    “Rust Never Sleeps” by David J. Marchi
    “The Magic Roundabout” by David J. Marchi

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