Although I have purposely chosen to work within the tradition of functionally oriented ceramics, these vessels are not made to be used as much as contemplated and felt in the way an artifact might convey the aura of huge time spans and ceremonial purposes independent of its original purpose. I believe that art has the best chance of succeeding when it resonates from a deep well of influences and I feel fortunate to feel the pull of many. This work sits at the center of seemingly disparate cultural, artistic and natural influences of which, the experience of studying ceramics in both Japan and the United States has had the greatest impact. The imagery in this work is largely the result of countless road trips across America’s western states which left me with powerful images of the land and the western myth—distant, desolate vistas and the stratified layers of the earth lifted into view after epochs. America’s artistic roots lie in Greek thought; there I have found a basis for the crisp and orderly silhouettes I strive for. While I passively inherited these American and Greek influences, I’ve also consciously adopted influences from Japan during my five years here. The rough, imperfect surfaces and humble colors are a product of a personal interpretation of Japan’s most core and traditional aesthetic. But more profound than this common and popular interest in borrowing from Japan’s long tradition is the sensibility that I believe working among Japanese potters has taught me. My handling of the material and my sense of beauty have been dramatically altered leaving me, happily, somewhere between East and West. Clay, ceramics, and functional art are present in the earliest histories of not only America and Japan, but virtually all cultures and all times. Clay is truly universal. In an effort to borrow from the inconceivable power of that collective consciousness, each piece carries the subtle suggestion of the human figure through bilateral symmetry, divided feet, embryonic arm buds and also through exaggerated hips, shoulders and bellies that push out like a skeleton beneath a stressed and cracking skin. That cracked and fissured surface, like a dry riverbed, is a manifestation of a deep interest in the patterns of nature. Each of these influences are hung on the one facet of clay, which
first bewitched me and continues to be an obsession—the possibilities
inherent in a lump of earth on a spinning wheel. The combination
is ridiculously simple--even primitive--and yet working intimately
with a natural material that, when in motion, moves with the grace
of water but stands like an eggshell and lasts for countless lifetimes
brings me extraordinary pleasure and satisfaction. |
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