“If you want to pare phenomena down, all there would be are stillness and occurrence:
space, and that which is continually born out of space, and returns into space –- stillness and
“Space that has been seized upon by the imagination cannot remain indifferent space…” 2
My practice is currently comprised of two very different, yet related, bodies of work. One group consists of objects created from fired ceramic shards and miscellaneous other materials embedded in concrete. Their forms suggest vessels – bowls and bottles. The second body of work is a series of paintings that are composed of unfired clay (which has been stabilized with oil or acrylic binders) and a variety of other materials that have been applied to paper. In these pieces, images are slowly built up using clay and other materials, such as oil and acrylic paints, enamels, graphite, powdered pigments, wax and gold leaf.
The vessels are reconstructed artifacts, giving new form to broken fragments of things past. There is for me a curious intersection between the enduring, seemingly timeless character of stone and fired clay and the fleeting, yet wonderful, impermanence of phenomena in the world in which we live.
The paintings attempt to evoke qualities similar to the vessels, while at the same time trying to gently entice the viewer into the inner landscapes and interior spaces of our imagination and memory. To this end, the sense of perceptual space is purposely ambiguous and the image references are often topographic or cosmographic.
While I often use a number of different materials in my work, clay is the material that most informs the things that I make. Having worked with clay, in a variety of forms and formats and in all its varied physical states for close to forty years now, I find that the elemental character and expressive potential of clay continues to intrigue me. There seems to be a vital, persistent, almost universal, appeal to clay, which is like no other material.
1. The Wisdom of No Escape, Pema Chodron, pg. 74
2. The Poetics of Space, Gaston Bachelard, pg. xxxii.