Walking through Kayb Carpenter’s front door is like stepping into a realm of Eastern exotica.

A Japanese painting hangs directly ahead, adjacent to a scroll decorated with Chinese calligraphy, a gift from one of her students. Perched on a window sill in the wall opposite is a Russian icon. A large Oriental parasol dominates the mantle, flanked by a pair of tall Turkish candleholders. Covering the hardwood floor are decorative rugs over which Kayb pads barefoot to greet her guest.

“My mom’s family lived in Asia, and I’ve lived in Asia,” she explains. “That’s why my house is so Asian-looking.”

It’s eclectic and inviting, and a natural setting for an associate professor of art. Settling into a corner with her legs crossed beneath her, Kayb happily discussed several of the objets d’art, beginning with the decorative rugs, all of which are gifts from relatives.

“The more colors you have in a rug, the more valuable it is, and a really good rug will have a signature woven into it. I like rugs that show some artistic innovation, when the weaver gets some wild hair and designs something that isn’t often done. It’s like having artwork on your floor. They’re interesting to look at, and they make me feel comfortable. My family decorates with them, so I associate them with a feeling of home. If I had a bigger house, I’d buy more of them.”

Kayb in her dining room. The garment on the table is a Japanese obi, complementing the kimono displayed on the wall. Adjacent are woodcuts from Vietnam, positioned above a vase decorated with Chinese calligraphy.

She moved to her house in St. Elmo from downtown last November. “It’s an arts-and-crafts bungalow style house that was built close to 1920. There was a fire in St. Elmo that year that destroyed all the tax records, so nobody knows for sure, but 1920 is probably close to the age.”

Art fills her home as it has always filled her life. “My father is a painter and printmaker. His side of the family is completely artistic, and my mother’s side appreciates art. My grandparents lived in Japan for 20 years, and their house is like a museum. It’s beautiful.”

Kayb lived in the Orient for two years, in Qinhuangdao, China, an Olympic venue that also serves as a retreat for government officials. “It’s the Camp David of China, near the beginning of the Great Wall. It was an interesting place to live. I taught art and English while I was there.”

Her first trip to Asia took place shortly after she finished graduate school. “I went to India and Turkey for a summer. I’d never been to the third world before, and it made me realize that since I’d been given so much, it was my responsibility to give something back. The quote, ‘To whom much is given, much will be required,’ kept playing through my head. I had a lot of friends who had taught in China, so that was how I made the connection there. There were some hardships, but the students were awesome. It was really nice to teach there.”

It was while in China that she learned of an opening in the art department at Covenant College, where she now teaches sculpture, ceramics, painting, and drawing. She’s also at work on a sculpture for the college, the theme of which is the seven days of creation. “Adam and Eve are the only figures, but it has six 9’x6’ freestanding archways that people walk through. I don’t keep much of my art here in the house because it’s very big and I have very small rooms, but I’ve never taken on anything this big before. Monumental is probably the right word.”

Her goal is to complete the project in a year, although she tries not to focus on a time frame. “I don’t start something by saying how much time will it take and go from there. I strive to reach my vision, even if it’s not perfect. I can live with imperfection. Human life is lived with imperfection, so it could be said that imperfection depicts reality. I’ve learned that as I’ve matured as an artist, even though every artist is different. Michelangelo was a very prolific artist, but there is imperfection in his work. You can see imperfections in the Sistine Chapel ceiling. Leonardo da Vinci, by contrast, was an extreme perfectionist. There are less than 10 paintings by him in existence, and isn’t it a shame that we don’t have more. I used to be a da Vinci, but now I’m more of a Michelangelo. In philosophy. I’m not going to say in skill.”

Surrounded by artistic influences since childhood, her life has been a constant creative process. “I love material reality. I always loved to make spaces. I made forts out of sheets and was always constructing some kind of space. I have a pretty free-spirited mom who let me experiment with things as a child. I’ve been fascinated with the human figure since childhood, and I thought I’d be a painter. It’s more unusual for a woman to be a sculptor than a painter, but I had a college advisor who kept after me, telling me I needed to sculpt. Now when I look at my students, I can see how my advisor could see it in me.”

Kayb in her living room, seated below a woodblock print by Sado Watanabe. “He depicts Biblical themes in traditional Japanese styles. My grandparents bought it in Japan and bequeathed it to me.”

As is the case with many artists, she believes that American culture could benefit by developing a greater appreciation for art and its history, such as European and Asian cultures have. “I have a hypothesis. I just wonder if older cultures appreciate art more because they have more to appreciate. American art is as new as our country, and our culture was formed around the Industrial Revolution. It reflects productivity and technology.”

She recently returned from a trip to Italy to visit her father (“he bought an old farmhouse in Lucca and has been restoring it”), describing the country as “the mother ship for all European artists. The people there love beauty, they love culture. Americans are more pragmatic, and there’s not room for art in pragmatism. Italians realize that art and beauty give meaning to life, even if we can’t quantify it, and they’re right. The things that really give life meaning are things we can’t quantify.”

By Buddy Roberts