Wayne Coombs of Mai Tiki

There’s a wood sculpture in Cocoa Beach’s Mai Tiki gallery that’s more illustrative of artist Wayne Coombs’ personality than any of his highly-praised and hugely popular tikis.

On its side, it depicts a vaguely Polynesian maiden in the throes of serene slumber, dreaming perhaps of some distant sisters painted long ago by Paul Gauguin. Her cheek cradled by a lithe, tapering hand and her almond-shaped eyes closed in reverie, she’s the very picture of tranquil abandon.

Coombs stands back to watch her soothing aura take hold of me, and after a brief pause, moves forward with childlike enthusiasm to prop her vertically with the aid of a simple curved wedge. “See?” he asks, regarding my _expression. “She’s a completely different sculpture now.” Indeed, facing me head-on, her flowing hair arranged into a severe topknot, her eyes seem shut against an onrush of melancholy and the hand now rubs her cheek in deep thought or worrying distress.

What the sculpture captures is a soul -- a vibrant, tangible soul that’s lacking in much of today’s art. It’s an abundant soul that emanates both from the subject itself and its creator, and embraces, in a strangely living way, the full range of human emotion.

What it also manages to capture is a perfect distillation of Coombs’ creative philosophy. Unlike other artists who hammer their raw materials into submission, Coombs lets his media guide the creation of his initial vision naturally. This Tao-like receptiveness turns the classic relationship between artist and subject on its side, allowing often rigid materials to dictate the shape of each of its own cuts and contours. The result is always exhilarating and keeps Coombs in a constant state of eager discovery.

“I love little moments like this,” he says, indicating the maiden. “She just happened. I didn’t think it out at first at all. That’s why I love carving and creating. You never know what will happen.” Lesser artists might be bothered by this notion of relinquishing control over a piece, but it’s an essential part of Coombs’ success.

Coombs is best known for the tikis he sculpts and their unique design has garnered him acclaim as the originator and most representative practioner of “Florida style” tiki carvings. The large, open studio which adjoins his Mai Tiki gallery is in many ways a reflection of his fertile mind: a clutter of completed and unfinished ideas and potential components. “Ideas have never been my problem,” he explains. “I’ve never had a shortage of them, I just have a problem realizing all of them. Life is too short.”

Coombs carved his first tiki at the age of 14 after watching a tiki carver churn them out in West Cocoa. “He was an old guy and he told me he shipped a lot of them off to Canada,” he remembers. “That kind of blew my mind that what this guy was doing in this grubby little place was being appreciated so far away.”

While in high school locally, Coombs worked on his first tiki in shop class, then dragged it down the hall to the art classroom to continue its formation. Though that first piece is now lost, he remembers it fondly. “Looking back it took forever. Back then I think it probably had more of an added-to feel. Sort of like this,” he says, showing me his second piece which stands in the back of the gallery which he bought in 1973.

The hollow-eyed figure with its deep fissures and clefts does seem to reveal a primitive approach, more akin to the rough-hewn bear carvings and totems of the Pacific Northwest. “You can see that I was just getting the feel for the wood and that’s why the features might look a little more pronounced,” Coombs explains. “That’s probably due to hand-chiseling. It wasn’t until much later that I started using a chainsaw. It cuts the time of carving by more than half and actually makes the process flow more fluidly.”

Drawn by the hum of a small Stihl chainsaw, Coombs leads me through the studio to an outdoor area where Chester, his friend and skilled carver in his own right, works on a stripped palm log. “People just assume that we take any old log and start chipping away at it and presto! you’ve got a tiki,” shouts Coombs over the din of the spinning blade. “You’ve got to locate them first, check them out, load them, and transport them back to the studio. After that, we fumigate them, cure them, and peel off the outer layer of bark. It’s a long process.”

Before sculpting, Coombs tells me that he first feels the log in his hands to see how it rests naturally. “I find the base first and get the feel for where its center is. After that, I try to let it sculpt itself. I only look for the potential.” He traces the wrinkles created by one of his tiki’s furrowed brows. “It just starts flowing after that. I end up being controlled by a block of wood. Really, it does all the work.”

As Chester continues carving, it’s clear that he has a different, and perhaps more whimsical style than Coombs. “Chester’s pieces are just as popular,” Coombs says, leading me back to the spacious gallery. “Without Chester and my wife, Beki, I don’t know where I’d be. They help me keep this business rolling.”

Coombs admits that the business aspect of art can be a little unnerving, but the love he has for his craft can be seen in the wide variety of tikis he’s produced. With names like “The Warrior” (all gnashing teeth, fat lips, and stoic _expression) and “The Joker” (grinning giddily and flaring his nostrils), each tiki’s attendant bold features make them highly-sought garden or indoor pieces. The wooden sentinels may have some origins in ‘60s-era kitsch, but Coombs’ extensive travels inform his tikis with flourishes of the traditional Polynesian craft.

One in particular looms in the corner, intricately filigreed and wrought with infinite dimensions. It’s of a darker variety, due to a bronzing effect achieved with multiple layers of urethane and paint and several final sandings, which lend the tiki an ancient look. Though Coombs is known for the tropical statues (he reckons he’s produced 20,000 tikis since 1973), his other pieces beg notice.

Along with works by other artists, Mai Tiki displays a surprising range of tropical and non-tropical art. Lightly-painted palm fronds and husks rendered into butterflies, sleek fish, and masks adorn the walls beside a Picasso or Escher-inspired janiform image joined by a central pair of delicate lips. Coombs’ excitement for his pieces is infectious and each one is in many ways a favorite, if only for the singular stories they tell.

Other works stem from a series of rafts and fanciful boats created by Cubans seeking asylum back in 1994. That year, an unusually northern-flowing Gulf Stream brought the vessels ashore along the beaches of the area, and Coombs, with the assistance of the Coast Guard and Police, saved them from destruction. “They were beautiful, many of them decorated in true folk art form. In one day I retrieved 13 and put them on display outside the gallery for people to admire.” He showed me one, painted with a colorful image of the Virgin and festooned with prayers and dedications in Spanish. “I grew up in Miami, but never really understood the Cuban-American plight until I found these. It was a revelation.”

Mai Tiki itself has a personality of its own. Bright, flowing and airy, it enfolds visitors with a sense of relaxation and warmth, and like a true gallery, it doubles as great local museum. In tribute to Coombs’ contribution to the community, the City of Cocoa Beach named November 5th “Mai Tiki Day.” Saturday, November 4th also happens to be Mai Tiki’s 34th Anniversary. Drop by (251 Minutemen Cswy.) for their open house celebration from 11 to 5 p.m. and enjoy refreshments and outstanding artwork. Truly though, the gregarious Coombs is almost always on hand to show visitors around both the gallery and workshop area. Visit Mai Tiki online at: www.maitiki.com orcall (321) 783-6890 for more information.