Copy Cat

Of all the client requests I’ve had over the years, this is far from the strangest. But it’s got me tied up in knots. They’ve asked me to copy the work of someone I really admire.

If you’ve ever laid a stone, or even been remotely interested in stonework, you’ve probably seen the work of Lew French. He’s based on Martha’s Vineyard and has a style that’s instantly recognizable. Large pieces of weathered quarry granite, covered in lichen and old tool marks, paired with small irregular fieldstones that fit together like a jigsaw. He’s not the first to combine these materials, but he’s done it so well for so long that you can spot a Lew French creation the moment you see it. You can also spot the work of someone who’s been overly influenced by him.

I’ve been in conversation with these clients for a while about creating a stone entrance to their property. We’re at the point where we need to make a decision. They sent me a photo of something Lew built and said, “we want this.”

I want that, too. It’s beautiful. But I can’t just copy someone else’s work. Can I?

None of us create in a vacuum. Every creative act, whether it’s building a wall or creating a dinner menu, comes from what we’ve seen and felt before. It’s all part of an ongoing conversation. We borrow ideas, twist them, and make them our own. Sometimes consciously, sometimes not. But where’s the line between being influenced by someone and simply repeating them?

Remember how annoying it was as a kid when someone copied everything you said? They’d repeat each word just to get a rise out of you. Copycat. It’s intrinsically repulsive.

I love Lew’s work. I don’t want to copy it. But I don’t know yet where the line is between inspiration and imitation. Between continuing a conversation and just repeating what’s already been said.

I need to figure that out before I can move forward.