In the nineteen sixties the argument craft verses art constantly reared its ugly head misdirecting dialogue. It is, on reflection a spurious argument siphoning off valuable discourse. I am a sculptor. Clay is my medium and has been for the last half century. Not faithful to the ceramic paradigm and not caring for shiny, I do not glaze and often paint my sculpture. Having spent the last forty years denying being a “potter”, I was surprised to find myself this last winter totally engaged with ollas, the “ultimate pot”.
The abstract branch of my work, mostly large and for the outdoors, is fueled by exploration of the medium’s formal aspects when built by hand to scale. This exploration lead me to understand that clay wants to be a vessel in the same way water, free of outside influences, wants to be a sphere.
After much contemplation I have settled on three essential components of the vessel: The orifice or sipapu provides access and egress. The chamber is a place of stored wealth, petitioning the future in cradling the egg, the seed, and the puddle. The component often dismissed (because of the taint of utility) is the means of support, a necessity in the fruition of dreams.
I find these elemental and eternal concepts are both base and beautiful.