Edward Casagrande polishes one of his works in his Oakley studio. (Tony Jones photo) | ZOOM |

        Edward Casagrande's art is all about joy. The steel he slices and polishes into shining hearts, stars, swirls and what he calls “boinging” figures makes people smile.

        That's what life is all about for him these days — celebrating the small things in life. His sculptures are showing up more and more — from public buildings such as the new Ronald McDonald House in Avondale and Culinary Sol at Rookwood Commons in Norwood, to the corporate halls of Procter & Gamble and the law office of Statman Harris Siegel & Eyrich, downtown.

        And he just put the spit and polish on a series of three towers and sculptures at Aveda Fredric's headquarters in Fairfield.

        “He's one of the best-kept secrets Cincinnati has to offer with his creative genius as an artist,” says Frederic J. Holzberger, CEO and president of Aveda Frederic environmental beauty products.

        But things weren't always so festive for Mr. Casagrande, 51.

        He woke up with a dark heart one day in the mid-90s, after 11 years on the drawing board as an architect, and found his “joy jars were depleted. I just ran out of joy.

        “I thought architecture was the biggest piece of sculpture that anyone could embark upon as an individual or society, but I couldn't convince my clients of the power of the built form.

        “So I did a Walter Mitty kind of thing.”

        He started talking about creating Earth Orchestra, without any definite idea of what that was to be. He just “liked the sound of it” and the unformed notion that somehow it “would be ceremonial and involve artifacts and stories,” tying in his three areas of interest: architecture, archaeology and anthropology.

        “I kept embellishing the story, talking about what I was going to do, so (the concept) was probably finally founded out of embarrassment,” he says.

        He quit his architecture job without a plan, over-enthusiastic and under-funded, and holed up in his Norwood garage, drawing, making machettes, or mock-ups, working with “site specific rocks, sticks and wire.”

        He went to his first trade show a couple of months later in Columbus with his wire sculptures — “little collections that were trying to declare a spot as special or sacred.”

        It was a disaster.

        “I had just spent a little nest egg on the show and chose to pursue it against all odds. My spirit was talking louder than I was hearing.”

        But the unsuccessful show taught Mr. Casagrande two things: He “wasn't going to strike the hearts of all people” and he “had a very limited audience, mostly women.”

        “My heart was driving me at that point. My head was telling me to lose the dream, but my heart told me to go on. I was at the mythological crossroads.

        “I blundered at the challenges of starting a business, but I was good at the "heart' stuff.”

        As soon as he decided to pursue the dream, things started to happen.

        “Once I realized I couldn't appeal to everyone, this crazy entrepreneurial spirit came to me. I started shifting away from the abstract. I had to come up with a more recognizable image — something dancing, lighthearted, "boinging.' I listened to people responding to the joy in the work. I started directing work to spirits that were more happy, more recognizable.”

        Mr. Casagrande exhibited at the Cincinnati Flower Show, racking up ribbons, and promoter Doug Hart gave him a little piece of a wall at the Home & Garden Show at the Albert B. Sabin Convention Center that evolved into a “spiritual bulletin board.” People came back to visit him year after year.

        “I met Ed about five years ago,” Mr. Holzberger says.

        “He had a number of dancing spirits at a (convention center) show Thanksgiving weekend. They were very joyful. They made you feel good, but had a calmness about them.”

        Mr. Casagrande did eight or nine shows a year and “it started to click.” he says. “People smiled. They were tickled. They got it. It was about joy, optimism. They didn't have to figure it out.”

        The manager of the Kenwood Towne Centre saw Mr. Casagrande's work at the flower show and gave him his fist big exhibit, Journey of the Soul, a mythological garden with spiritual flags and sails he describes as a “continually maintained shrine.”

        The exhibit “had gates and fountains and things that soared,” he says. And, best of all, it got no complaints.

        The Towne Centre installation taught Mr. Casagrande his dream was attainable.

        “People liked it. It taught me I could do the business side of art, the construction, the timely finish, the budget.”

        Once he did a few private pieces, the word spread and he opened a workshop in Oakley on Madison Road.

        “I bought a piece of his for my home, a lamp” Mr. Holzberger says. “Then I started giving small pieces as gifts. I commissioned a waterfall for my back yard — of copper and wood. It encompasses a lot of different materials and metals. He's very environmental, using a lot of pieces reused from junkyards. He has a creative genius' mind.”

        In each piece Mr. Casagrande designs, he tries to take the individual he has created it for and incorporate that person somehow into the work.

        “We had him do a portrait of the three original partners,” says Alan Statman of the downtown law firm.

        “It has nothing to do with us physically, but it beautifully captures the excitement of the venture we were starting.”

        Mr. Casagrande also created a sculpture for Mr. Statman that is used at the entrance of the law office. It's “Lady Justice,” protecting the little people.

        And because people jokingly refer to lawyers as sharks, Mr. Casagrande created a school of sharks, but with a tender twist for a meeting room. “They all have little hearts,” Mr. Statman says.

        “I like the warmth and spirit of his work. It's not what people traditionally think of as sculpture. There's a story in everything he does.”

        Mr. Casagrande designed a Big Pig Gig Swine Shrine, which stood at Fifth and Main streets, as well as Big Pig Gig jewelry and smaller pieces sold at Litwin Jewelers, downtown, and in the Dutcher Collection at Interior Services Inc. in Forest Park.

        Mr. Holzberger is one of Mr. Casagrande's biggest cheerleaders. Each year, the sculptor creates a corporate ornament for Aveda to give as a gift. He's also designed a wine rack and a candle holder as corporate gifts.

        Last year, Mr. Casagrande did a backdrop for a major Aveda/Frederic show at the Taft Theatre.

        “It was gorgeous. I've had companies come to me, trying to get it,” Mr. Holzberger says.

        That design job stoked the fire in Mr. Casagrande's heart to do bigger work — stage design. “I'd love to do theater,” he says.

        “He's very approachable,” Mr. Statman says.

        “Some artists are reclusive and temperamental. Edward is not. He embraces all things with joy.”

        “My message is that we have to cherish precious moments, appreciate each one,” Mr. Casagrande explains.

        “It's corny; it's a very zen thing. We have to allow for the magic in our lives.”

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