The Dance

I'm getting ready for my Ceramic Artist presentation this week in class.  My ceramic assignments are all done.  I'm just waiting for the last two to come out of the kiln.  So this presentation will be my final grade.  And yes, we've discussed that I'm hoping to get an A (I tried not to care too much about grades, but it turns out I do! LOL), but there is something I hope I leave the kids with this presentation.  This is the quote that made me decide that Rob Barnard would be "my" artist...
“In an effort to explain to me what separated pedantic and indifferent ceramic art from the kind of ceramic art that makes us reflect on the very nature of our existence, Yagi held up his index finger and pointed it straight up. This represented, he said, the predictably beautiful; then he turned his finger 90°, parallel to the floor, saying that this position represented what we all commonly think of as ugly. The two positions have a tendency to be fixed in culture, but—and he moved his finger to a position 45° between those two points—it is here, he said, where real Art takes place, vibrating between the beautiful and the ugly.”  (Between Points in Clay, by Rob Barnard, Ceramic Monthly June 1995)    
I loved that description of art.  But there's more.  When I write a book, or an artist creates their art, it belongs to us.  We bring our intent and vision to the book/piece.  And then we're done.  At that point we turn it over to our readers/observers.  They own it at that point.  They bring their own vision to it.  They like it, they don't.  They hate it, they love it.  They see something totally different in it than the writer/artist intended.


Even if the readers/viewer feel they're completely alone in experiencing the book/art, they're not.  The person who created it is a part of their experience.  Even if what they are taking from it is totally different than intended.

That interaction between the creator and the observer is a dance and it takes place somewhere between Yagi's beauty and ugliness in art.

That's what I'm hoping to leave the kids with at the end of my talk.

Literature and art are important.  They have a function.  They make us all look for ourselves in someone else's vision.  And when we find that piece of ourselves in someone else's work, maybe we realize that we are not alone.  That we're all connected.  We are all part of that dance.

Thanks to all my new followers here at Hollyworld, and as always a special thanks to all of you who've supported me and hung out with me all these years!

Happy Holidays!

Holly

My Novel Freshman Experience, Part 12...The Beauty of Broken Pieces

The Beauty of Broken Pieces

We only have one presentation in our ceramics class. Professor H. gave us a list of possible artists, but I went exploring (I know you're shocked that I didn't follow the easy route).  My interest is functional pottery.  I see the beauty in the mundane, the everyday, the useful.  I think you can see that in my writing.  I don't write epic stories, or stories of riches and fame.  I write about every day people.  PTA moms, women who've lost something but find something new...heck, even women who find leg waxing to be torturous!  Normal, every day.

So, my artist is Rob Barnard.  I love his pieces.  Most of what he does is wood-fired.  He does have a collection of white glazed as well.  Like I said, I loved his pieces, but more than that, I love the fact he writes about pottery and has been written about it often.

I love this description Louise Cort wrote in a lovely piece on his teapots in Ceramics Monthly, 12/83.  

“Beyond structure, the clay itself unites the parts. The clay is charcoal gray. That gray seems monochrome at first, but tones of ocher and orange hover just below the surface in some areas. Near the base on the side opposite the spout lies a band of burnt orange that is revealed only when the pot is tipped for pouring. The clay in that area is also glossier: the same lick of wood flame that brought out the color also seared and polished the clay.

"The predominantly gray substance of the pot has the dense but porous texture of good gray flannel. But if it were flannel, the color would have come not from a chemical dye but from fine-spun, naturally dark fleece.”

Cort's description of this simple teapot was as beautiful as the teapot itself.  When you look at a painting you know it's art, but something as simple as a teapot, you might miss it.  Like I said, that's what I love about Barnard's work...the art within everyday.  But along with his art, it was his words and explanation of his art that truly drew me...

"The thing that moves people to look at art comes through the object; it makes them feel excited and say I wonder what it is and why it is. In other words, they can access it through an object. This is what made me feel so good because I had a way to justify not only to myself, but maybe to other people that these objects are capable of carrying this kind of meaning.

 
   "You know we don’t generally ascribe a big value to these things. You may look at a plate and say, “Oh, this is just a plate.” But the point for me is to try and fill this object with so much that—and you may overlook it at first—but somewhere when you pick it up and start feeling it and you start noticing it, it would be unlike any other experience that you’ve ever had. The thought of drinking out of a piece of art is an entirely different thing; it has a way of working on you that’s different." (Tom Nakashima & Rob Barnard, Cherry Center for Art, Carmel CA 4/19/13: The Artist's Way by Richard Whittaker, Apr 21, 2013)

Remember my Day of Beauty posts about Erie Art Museum? Barnard's description reminds me of how I put myself in others art and it altered how I looked at all of it.

That first picture on this page...the broken plate (which took me a while to find...I read this account before I found the piece)?  That was the main reason I decided to do my presentation on Barnard.  When I started making baskets a few years back, I quickly discovered I liked to do things that weren't quite what the teacher had in mind.  (I know, you're shocked. LOL) 

That broken plate...it is art.

"Against the advice of Yagi, he decided on wood-fired stoneware as his primary medium without going through the usual apprenticeship of firing glazed work in an electric kiln. One of the first things he made for the school’s wood-fired kiln was a rimmed plate, a form more associated with porcelain. Then, irritated because the lip had shrunk, he smashed it down, breaking the rim in five places. Surprised by the effect, he saved it. It is this plate that Yagi chose for the student exhibition." Beyond East and West by Jane Addams Allen, Ceramic Monthly June 1995

That idea of beauty in broken pieces...oh, how that spoke to the writer in me.  I write about strong women, but like that plate, they have their flaws.  That's what I keep bumping into in art. 

Holly

PS I interrupt this art, strong women and ceramic discussion to remind you that the first of my PTA mom trilogy came out yesterday as ebooks!  Check them out.

PPS.  Part Eleven, Part Ten, Part Nine, Part Eight, Part Seven, Part Six, Part Five, Part Four, Part Three, Part Two, Part One

My Novel Freshman Experience: Part Ten...Raku

 RAKU

It was a lovely walk to school today.  Yes, I'm still FitBitting at least 10,000 steps every day, so that mile or so walk is helpful!  It's a bit warmer than I like, but not summer-hot, so it was a nice walk up. And look at that sunrise!

Now, on to school...I had so much fun today!!  We talked about the next project (we're making a boot), got our artist for our reports approved (I'm doing Rob Barnard...love his pots and the fact he writes a lot about pottery)...and we made a Raku cup. I took pictures so you could come to class with me...

So that's the kiln in the back, and those two buckets?  They're filled with sawdust. 






The top of the kiln's been removed and the hot pots are put into the sawdust.  You can see how red-hot the pieces in the kiln are.





The pots actually flame when you put them in the sawdust.  The buckets go back on top and the pieces smoke for a bit.

 The second one down from the top of the picture is mine.  It's after they pots are removed from the sawdust and filled with water to rapidly cool them down.






And here's the finished piece.  This wouldn't be a great cup for drinking, since the flame doesn't get hot enough to really seal it, but it is lovely.  I purposefully left holes with no glaze that turned a lovely black, matte, smoky color.

I'm heading back later today to put some underglaze on my big sculpture (see the previous post).  And I'm starting on my boot later this week...we don't have class Thursday, but I'm thinking I might as well go up and work.  And even though the artist report isn't due for a while, by now you've probably figured out I'll be starting it this week.  LOL  I seriously can't help myself.  The family keeps giving me those, isn't-she-cute looks as I gleefully work on stuff here. But I've wanted to take a pottery class forever...and I'm enjoying it as much as I thought I would.

Hope you all have a good day and find something new to learn that gives you as much glee as this is giving me!

Holly

PS.

Once Upon a Thanksgiving

If you've missed any Novel Experience posts, you can find them here... Part Nine, Part Eight, Part Seven, Part Six, Part Five, Part Four, Part Three, Part Two, Part One

PPS The first book in my PTA Mom Trilogy is out on September 26th. You can preorder it now!!

Once Upon a Christmas

Once Upon a Valentine's