Elise Spontarelli -
Written by: Chelsea Tinklenberg
For several semesters, I’ve had the opportunity to collaborate with Vector Space—bringing my sculpture students into the metal shop to learn basic fabrication skills. What often begins as an introduction to tools and processes grows into something much bigger: a shift in confidence, a willingness to try, and a recognition that these tools—and this kind of making—are for everyone.
That idea of access has always been central to the work. Both Elise, the director of Vector Space, and I have had conversations with people who say things like, “I’d love to take a workshop there, but maybe something besides metal—something more feminine.” And our immediate response—especially as women working in this space—is always: no, metal is for everyone! The tools, the material, the shop—none of it should feel off-limits.
This mural project grew out of that shared belief, but it also marked a shift for me. During my sabbatical, I approached this as a collaborative community project—one where I intentionally brought in others with different areas of expertise, and where I could also step into the role of a beginner. I don’t know much about paint, and to be honest, it’s a material that has always felt a little outside of my comfort zone. So I leaned into that.
I invited Sierra Schneider, our new graphic design professor, who brings a deep knowledge of typography and visual language, and Abi Monticlaro, a former student and now alumni who studied painting and currently works as a muralist at Amazement Square. Abi, especially, brought a level of confidence and fluency with paint that I don’t have—and that was exactly the point. This became a space where our skills could overlap, inform one another, and expand what the project could be.
That kind of exchange is something I’ve come to really value—not just in this project, but in my teaching and studio practice more broadly. In sculpture, one of my first goals is to introduce students to power tools. Not just so they can use them, but so they can move through that initial hesitation and build a sense of self-efficacy. Once you realize you can do something that once felt intimidating, that mindset carries over. You approach new materials, new processes, new problems with more openness and curiosity.
And increasingly, I find that same energy in my own work—that excitement of trying something new, even when I don’t fully know what I’m doing.
What makes Vector Space such a meaningful place to do this kind of work is its culture. It’s not just that it’s a well-equipped, state-of-the-art shop—it’s that the space actively works to remove barriers. Small details matter: things like having hair ties available in the safety area, or the way tools are introduced without assumption or hierarchy. Whether you’re brand new or highly experienced, there’s a sense that you belong there.
Even when I teach workshops at Vector Space, it never feels like a one-way exchange. I often feel like I learn just as much as I’m teaching. There’s a flattening of hierarchy that happens naturally—people share knowledge, troubleshoot together, and move fluidly between being a teacher and a learner.
Elise spoke about this in a talk she gave a few years ago, referencing the history of paper marbling—a process that was once highly guarded, passed down in secret and limited to a select few. That idea has really stuck with me. Because Vector Space operates in direct opposition to that model. Knowledge here is shared. Tools are accessible. Whether it’s open-source software or equipment that might traditionally feel reserved for engineers or specialists, the emphasis is always on openness and invitation.
In many ways, this mural became a reflection of that ethos. It brought together different materials, different skill sets, and different levels of experience. It created space for collaboration, experimentation, and learning across disciplines.
And ultimately, that’s what I think sculpture—and art more broadly—can do best. It activates space.
My hope is that this mural doesn’t just exist as an object on the wall, but as something that encourages movement within the shop. That it invites people to try something new, to step out of the corner they’re most comfortable in, to pick up a tool or material they haven’t used before. To embrace that beginner’s mindset.
Because the more we do that, the more we build not just skill, but confidence—and a shared belief in our ability to learn, to adapt, and to make.
Chelsea Tinklenberg is a sculptor and Professor of Art at the University of Lynchburg. Her work explores balance, motion, and the relationship between material and movement, often through playful, large-scale forms. She has been a member of Vector Space since 2020.
