8 posts tagged “ceramic sculpture”

A sculpture is just a painting cut out and stood up somewhere -Frank Stella

Moonlight is sculpture. -Nathanial Hawthorne.

Ravens awake me here. They nest in the spruce above the house. All day long the young one calls to his parents reminding them he's there and hungry.

Reminding me to be attentive to my work.

Apparently the first bird that Noah released from the ark was a raven, who flew back and forth, drying up the waters with the smooth flapping of strong, dark wings, drying the land so the olive branches emerged for the dove to find.

Haida people believe that Raven discovered the first people hiding in a clam shell, and fed them berries and salmon. I like both myths.

I'm just happy to hear and see them on my last few days in Santa Fe. They're comfortable with me and I with them. For great info on ravens read Berndt Heinrich's Mind of the Raven. They are intelligent, fascinating creatures with a complex social structure.

Hoping to get the two sculptures fired today, though I'm pushing the odds with the second one. "Duet: Raven" is ready for the kiln. "Trio" would be fine if I were home and firing it myself. Strange to be at the whim of someone else's schedule, although my time at Santa Fe Clay has been productive, pleasant and informative.
Paintings will travel back to Vermont and continue to grow and change.
This has been a great residency time of focus and replenishment.

Have been reading Ghost Ranch by Lesley Poling-Kempes. Fascinating story of the adventurous women (and men, but mostly bold women) who set out to discover the wild west and fell in love with this raw, vivid part of the world.

Which is why documenting the event is ever so important for an artist.
 A good photographer is essential for that documentation. Every artist must find a professional photographer who understands lighting  and the subtleties of presentation.
Tad Merrick has been my friend and photographer and my surrogate sibling for as long as I've been in Sudbury. It's great to work with someone who has a sense of humor that matches mine, for better or for worse. Tad is quirky in a way that I find ever so familiar.  He's also the bass player in our band, the Sleeping Dogs. And in real life he's a great photographer.
Last week he and Louis Pattis, another photographer and good friend, came to photograph my show at Gallery in the Field. Louis is an amazing photographer in his own right, and also owns the Brandon Inn. He and his lovely wife Sarah have been a driving force for quality and progress in Brandon for many years as well.
The photo shoot was quite an undertaking.
I was amazed by the complexity of the set-up and the amount of energy and expertise that it took to do the job
It took several hours just to get the lights arranged for the over all shot. Then much of the next day to do individual images of each piece. 3D is more challenging than flat art because you have to decide which angles are important to show, which best represent the art work.
Thanks so much, Tad and Louis!

The planet spins, wheels turn on the highway and the calendar page flutters, hovering on the brink a new year.

Change is constant, change is imminent. The challenge is to choose change. Determine the most useful and constructive change, then enact that choice.

Since the opening at Gallery•in•the•Field on December 6,  I have been immersed in the season. Friends & family; wrapping up classes at CSC and CCV; mailing boxes hither and yon across the country, etc. etc.
Now a wintry sun is about to set on my first quiet day at home in ages. In the past week and a half, our houseful of family has  been inundated with swift and drifting snow, deluged with unseasonal, warm rain, beset with strong winds...  The creek is brimming, perhaps about to flood, but with tonight's bone chilling cold that becomes less likely, and all visitors are home safely.
The forecast is snow and cold through New Years Eve, then sun on the first day of 2009.
My muse is shivering. She is in the process of re-grouping, re-vitalizing projects left bobbing in the wake of the show, preparing for the next semester, which will have a much better schedule than last. Very promising.

Time now for a cup of tea, and cozy retreat with the cats and my new book: Enclosure, by Goldsworthy. Yay!

The light is literal, and metaphorical. We can wait for moments or eons.

It has been quite an intense journey/labor of love getting the work to this point, but for some reason I've keep stretching out for the goal. Firing and re-firing kilns, mixing colors, trimming sponges and brushes, Adjusting and readjusting lights in the wee hours for accuracy. Sleeplessness. Life swirling around me in its normal tidal surge.
The absurdity of it does make one wonder about why artists do what they do. What is the passion/tenacity that makes me forgo sleep/normalcy/food/comfort to get the job done.
These are a few images from the show at Gallery•in•the•Field.
A very fun part was doing the drawings. Texture and color and luminescence thanks to interference colors, which radiate off the walls.

I am pleased with the installation of the show. The space is SO BEAUTIFUL. Warm, beautifully patterned  floors and a soaring ceiling. There is a bit of danger. Precarious art is always alarming. The vessel drawings are new, and satisfying.  A very nice surprise return to a familiar technique. Carved slab vessels. Nothing technically new, but like speaking French after years of not even thinking about it. The poetry and synapses and grammar are all there waiting to be aligned and burst into song.