To quote Talking Heads, my god, what have I done?
Back in the studio-saddle
Glazing time, the hardest time of all Fortunately, the studio was quiet this afternoon so I could spend some quality time with my Little Fellers, listening to where they wanted to go next.
No, that’s not an I-beam. It’s a ruler. I want to figure out the dimensions of an image I want to add –based on this guy at the MFA:
Boy, these things are hard to write. Don’t want to engage in off putting “art speak,” but want to show a bit how I got to where I have ended up.
I’ve spent my life with paper, real and virtual, writing, editing, drawing, painting. And here I am stepping into the third dimension.
As I started to get used to the mechanics of making a pot, I realized that the pots that wanted to be created by me were small. I can make bigger things, but they don’t talk to me.
These small pots told me they wanted to echo ancient Greek amphora and urns. But not modern copies. No, these little fellers wanted to evoke the ravages of shipwrecks and millennia spent resting on a seabed. They wanted to be crusty or broken and toppled.
And then, like little orbits of galactic dust, they wanted to congregate and coalesce. They called out for ceramic boxes to lie in. Or for discarded drawers so they could be displayed like finds in a Victorian’s curio cabinet.
Like characters in a short story that take off for Paris when the author had in mind they’d stay put in Ohio, these pots decided to have their own lives to be lived in their own small worlds. Sometimes I think I’m just along for the ride.
Show opening was a hit
This show’s for real!
All together now
Getting ready for a show of my stuff. Fun and sobering to see it all together. Artist Statement — those words wake me up at 3am. Where did this stuff come from?? It’s been fun to backtrack, the way you do when you find yourself thinking about a childhood friend: how did I get to thinking about Karen? And then you trace your thoughts backward.
You did see the article on Edmund De Waal in the Sunday New York Times?
South Korean Pottery Master
This short film almost makes me want to work in really, really big pieces, take up smoking and glaze to music.
Lee Kang-hyo is a soft-spoken true artist, who has tackled all the demons. The film is an ode to discovering that the beautiful is right under our noses.
Towards the end, Lee dances a tango with one of his five-foot pots — they’re about equally covered in slip and glaze. His hands caress the pot with the reverence only a great partner and lover can.