Ruminating on Molds and Copies

We did pewter casting months ago in plaster molds, but I realized that Smooth-On has a molding material (Mold Max 60) that is rated for high-temperatures. So I wanted to try it out, and decided to cast a few little ingots with a decorative bee on top, as a little gift for my brother and sis-in-law who keep bees in their backyard. (The originals I copied were from Bees Are Life on St. Clair Avenue.)




I heated up the molds a bit in our toaster oven, to help in the casting of the metal. And then melted the pewter on a hotplate, which took no time at all.



The casting worked out quite well. Here they are, after some buffing and polishing.


But the whole process got me thinking about this thing of making copies. 

Nowadays, being original is what is prized most of all, at least in our culture. An original thinker, an original piece of art, an original point of view, etc. But maybe being one-of-a-kind isn’t really so special after all, not compared to how important being a copy has been in the history of our species. Because the ability to make molds and copies was a tremendous leap.

Bronze Age two-part mold for casting an axe.

Serious mold-making and casting work goes back to the 4th millennium BCE. Around 4000 BCE, the lost-wax process is in use, because now that everyone was in the Bronze Age, they needed to something to pour their hot bronze into (ha ha). But seriously, the earliest known example of a lost-wax work is a 6000-year old pure copper amulet found in Mehrgahr (now in Pakistan).




Here's a news article on it, and here is the paper from Nature Communications (2016). The paper is a bit dense, but it's no doubt an amazing discovery.

The so-called ‘Dancing Girl’ from nearby Mohenjo Daro is a later and very well-known example, from c. 2500 BCE. 


But no doubt molds were being used way before then, although I don't think any obvious traces of them have been found. In a way, perhaps the first “mold” were two hands cupped together to form a rough clay bowl. (Obviously, that is stretching the definition of a mold, but if we consider the idea of a negative space and that which fills it, we have the very first mold and copy right there.) Natural mold-forms could easily have been found and taken advantage of. A large, smooth indentation in a stone could have easily provided a natural mold in which to form a clay vessel; it could even sit there and dry in the sun before being baked in a fire... 

Of course, later, more sophisticated molds made production of important goods much more efficient. And it's likely that it opened up our brains in different ways. Perhaps to higher order visualization—needing to imagine the inverse and reverse of the original, in order to design a good mold? 

Old Babylonian clay mold with deity, c. 2000-1600 BCE.

Well, I'm not sure about that, but what I was mainly considering was if mold- and copy-making produced new intuitions about the nature of appearances and reality. Or, realities. Could one have imagined oneself as a mold for something else? In other words, the body as a shell, encasing another being? The mother as a mold for the baby is one aspect, but could one’s body be a mold for a spirit as well? Or another kind of "being"? Could one have begun to wonder about an "original" reality, the "model" existence of which all this was just a copy? Of course, Plato develops all this with his Forms in the 5th century BCE, but this intuition was present in our species way before he wrote that down.

Plato. Or a marble copy of him, anyway.

In his Universal Root Myths, Silo writes about how, in the myth of Gilgamesh, Enkidu can be seen as a "copy" of the great King of Uruk:

"The Sumerian poem alludes to the creation of the hero Enkidu as a 'double,' a copy of Gilgamesh, after the goddess Aruru 'concentrates within herself.' It is possible that this refers to a technique used in the production of ceramic human figures involving the making of copies through the use of molds (i.e., 'within herself') based on a previously manufactured original. The fact that Enkidu is born covered with hair ('the hero was born with his body covered with hair as thick as the barley of the fields') could refer to the visible presence of materials added to reduce plasticity (cereal cuttings, straw, and so on), which were added to the clay to prevent it from cracking, as is still done in some areas where clay is used to prepare adobe. All this technology corresponds to a stage previous to that of industrial ceramics and the use of the potter’s wheel."

Enkidu overpowering a lion?
Gilgamesh overpowering a lion?

Silo's book is full of these kinds of interesting footnotes, and if you've never read it, it's most highly recommended. Another very interesting read is this article on the idea of the original and the copy in China and Japan, from the folks at Aeon, an extract of which is, ahem, copied below:


"The Chinese have two different concepts of a copy. Fangzhipin (仿製品) are imitations where the difference from the original is obvious. These are small models or copies that can be purchased in a museum shop, for example. The second concept for a copy is fuzhipin (複製品). They are exact reproductions of the original, which, for the Chinese, are of equal value to the original. It has absolutely no negative connotations. The discrepancy with regard to the understanding of what a copy is has often led to misunderstandings and arguments between China and Western museums. The Chinese often send copies abroad instead of originals, in the firm belief that they are not essentially different from the originals. The rejection that then comes from the Western museums is perceived by the Chinese as an insult."


I haven't studied enough history to really comment on what was going on back in 5-6000 BCE or before, but the Fire Craft can give one some insights, or at least intuitions, about the relationship and possible connections between the material being worked on “outside” and the material being worked on “inside” oneself. So when you’re sitting there in the garage waiting for the wax to drip out and the metal to melt, you start wondering, for example, about what is original and what is reproduction... About the “mold” that you and your life follow. About the copies that are flawed because they all come from the same flawed mold. About the impressionable “wax” within that could be cleared out and replaced with something more permanent.

And because in many ways we’re not much different from our friends 6-, or 8-, or 10,000 years ago, you gotta figure they were sometimes wondering more or less the same kinds of things.

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