I’ve installed mosaics on many large commercial sites. Each one brings its own challenges and takeaways. Here are lessons from the most recent project, August 17 - 22, 2020.
1. It’s always wise to test the layout before delivery. This is the first time Enso Fabrication’s waterjet pieces of Neolith ceramic met my mosaic boot stitches. A good fit! Thanks to Jade and Nicki Synhorst and the crew at Enso for a perfect template and cuts. We used the masonite template, cut by the waterjet, to build our mosaic to a very accurate dimension.
2. Sometimes you have to go backwards to go forward. Because of the thickness of the hotel entry pavers (seen here in mid-removal), the bed for my mosaic had to be a separate pour of about 5 inches of concrete. The pavers ideally should have been added after the mosaic and metal Schluter edge were installed, but because the crew was up against a Monday deadline, they filled in the custom-cut pavers around the raised bed. However, they didn’t quite meet the shape I was installing. Out they came, each carefully beveled paver and all those tricky cuts discarded. I considered them a hazard to my crew, so I gradually moved them to a stack on the street.
3. Any raised object, from a 5 gallon bucket to a pile of pavers, can become a work surface for a hurried dude with an angle grinder. I had no sooner stacked these pavers, when a guy with a strip of metal threshold needed a place to brace his cuts. I’ve always been wary of this tool, but it’s ubiquitous on a construction site. We couldn’t have done our job without it.
4. The Lipstick Trick. Remember the lessons from your mentors.
In my case, one of my earliest mosaic mentors was the award-winning ceramist and mosaic rock star Eric Rattan. In an effort to teach proper tile setting skills to the next generation of artists, Eric created “hard hat workshops,” during which he taught us invaluable trade skills - like how to measure a room for square, and how not to embarrass yourself by calling a trowel a “spatula.” Break that rule, and you were called a “fruit salad” for the duration.
One of his memorable tips was to always carry a can of hairspray and a tube of lipstick in your tool box. Fashion emergencies aside, he used the hairspray to fix a chalk line in place, and the lipstick to mark protrusions such as j boxes and these here sleeves for the recessed lights. Coat the object with lipstick, then place the intended surface against it. Viola! You have your marks as to where you should cut.
The Neolith wasn’t pre-drilled, because we weren’t sure the sleeves had been installed symmetrically. We had to create an exact template on site, with almost no tolerance for error. I ran to CVS across the street and selected the cheapest, reddest lipstick I could find. It worked! We were able to create an exact template of the two center Neolith sections, mark the 7 light sleeve locations on the vinyl, core drill them and slide the slabs right over the sleeves (with a little bit of extra grinding).
I miss our dearly departed Eric Rattan, as generous with his knowledge as with his friendship. Read all about him here.
Carefully drilling light sleeve holes through the Neolith slab. Yes, there’s that angle grinder again, this time with a 3-inch core drill bit.
Back buttering the Neolith. I held my breath until each of these fragile pieces had been set.
5. Hard hats aren’t for show. This is an accurate depiction of the final days of a project before the preliminary certificate of occupancy inspection. It’s not unlike a beehive. Power washers, angle grinders, electricians, stone masons cutting granite on site, landscapers and sprinkler installers, elevator and fire alarm testers, metal smiths who cut and install door flashing and thresholds, brick layers and, of course, tile setters and their nervous artist. It’s amazing how everyone manages to work around the other trades, and for the most part, everyone is cool and good humored. The fellow inspecting the mosaic on the upper left is the Sigma Marble supervisor, Randy Hossikis. His hat reads like a high school Varsity Quarterback’s letter jacket. Stickers from all the big jobs he’s worked.
6. Mind the Gap! Expansion joints are essential. In this case, we were able to select in advance just where it would interrupt my design. Once we install the column sculpture, not much of the expansion will show.
7. Have confidence in your crew! Sigma sent Luis Garcia, their best installer. It’s a relief to have your artwork in such capable hands. I’m super pleased that the Neolith sections actually look like burnished leather, as intended. Stay tuned for the next phase: the construction of the Pamplona Rose Polaina, a smalti-clad, 8-foot-tall ode to the Spanish origins of the Antonio Catalan hotel brand. I’m still working out the maquette (pictured in a previous post).
