Standing Still
Craftsmanship. It is something every teacher stresses when instructing students on the proper way to throw pots. Some artists reject this idea, finding the beauty in the mistakes. I embrace craft. My goal is to take the idea of craftsmanship and push beyond normal precision standards. In my mind, there is no such thing as a “test pot”. Every pot that I’ve made in preparation for this show has been created with the same intention. Create the perfect pot. Though it happens quite often that I’ll accidentally destroy a pot on the wheel or in the kiln, my attention to accurate aesthetics, form, and physical and visual weight is unwavering in trying to produce flawless art.
Although every pot has the potential to be perfect, I attempt to push this message further in my choices in forms, clay, and glazes. My most prevalent form, the Korean-inspired Moon jar, was chosen because of its never-ending, infinite, spherical nature. By combining this with a porcelain clay body and different shades of white & clear glaze, I create a feeling of purity that accentuates the care taken to ensure every pot is treated with the same meticulous crafting as the next. In the gallery, the pots around each moon jar act as visual supports, removing unwanted repetitiveness and at the same time contributing their own slight variant on the overall effect and feeling.
With the lives of people becoming ever more hectic, I want my work to instill a feeling of awe. Awe can mean many things, from happiness, to wonder, and even fear. Whatever the viewer’s awe is, I challenge them in this moment to fully absorb it. Critique the craftsmanship shown. Question the sources of inspiration. Compare the subtle changes in glaze color with the wood beneath them. As a result, my desired outcome will have occurred, just as when I’m throwing, trimming, or carving a pot, time will have stood still.
Craftsmanship. It is something every teacher stresses when instructing students on the proper way to throw pots. Some artists reject this idea, finding the beauty in the mistakes. I embrace craft. My goal is to take the idea of craftsmanship and push beyond normal precision standards. In my mind, there is no such thing as a “test pot”. Every pot that I’ve made in preparation for this show has been created with the same intention. Create the perfect pot. Though it happens quite often that I’ll accidentally destroy a pot on the wheel or in the kiln, my attention to accurate aesthetics, form, and physical and visual weight is unwavering in trying to produce flawless art.
Although every pot has the potential to be perfect, I attempt to push this message further in my choices in forms, clay, and glazes. My most prevalent form, the Korean-inspired Moon jar, was chosen because of its never-ending, infinite, spherical nature. By combining this with a porcelain clay body and different shades of white & clear glaze, I create a feeling of purity that accentuates the care taken to ensure every pot is treated with the same meticulous crafting as the next. In the gallery, the pots around each moon jar act as visual supports, removing unwanted repetitiveness and at the same time contributing their own slight variant on the overall effect and feeling.
With the lives of people becoming ever more hectic, I want my work to instill a feeling of awe. Awe can mean many things, from happiness, to wonder, and even fear. Whatever the viewer’s awe is, I challenge them in this moment to fully absorb it. Critique the craftsmanship shown. Question the sources of inspiration. Compare the subtle changes in glaze color with the wood beneath them. As a result, my desired outcome will have occurred, just as when I’m throwing, trimming, or carving a pot, time will have stood still.