Back to Sculpture

Started yesterday a large piece working in a different way.  Made a drawing indicating overall dimensions and planes, and some of the marks that might end up in there. Then, using Earthstone Original (2 bags found in the workshop!) made large slabs leaving texture and natural edges in place.  The idea would be to use these in the finished piece.  The texture has been a bit random:  it derives from stretching the clay over plastic and then peeling it off, The suction leaves sticky marks.  Left it more or less covered in plastic, hoping to get to the right consistency and hoping to have made enough slabs.

Today pieced together two very sharply pointed triangles making an angle and attached that to a dorsal piece, also at an angle.  The worry of collapse and failed joints takes over and the finer hopes for using the texture were somewhat lost in translation.  Also made the other half of the dorsal piece, joining three slabs at different levels and one of them making a conical mass to the side.  Tried to stuff material underneath to start curving the labs so they don't just stand there stiffly.

It is impossible, at present, to get underneath and cure the joints from the inside, as pieces will collapse.  I fear the forthcoming need to stand the pieces up to make a vessel and also the inability to look further than a couple of simple moves.  I know now why I never took to chess.

I need still today to work on the front of the piece as well, so that the whole can be assembled further come the weekend.

This piece feels like combat armour. It feels like old and perhaps discarded or obsolete body protection. in part of it there is resignation (front) and in the back an entrance or portal for coming and going - maybe a revolving door.

The Coy Craftsman

Preparing for workshops. Thinking about the format, getting the publicity done.  Then, endless lists of materials and possible directions. Endless checklists. Endless, tedious, resolving of small questions, endless, finicky, decisions.

But yet, somehow, the enthusiasm persists and the contours of life become more vivid with plans and participation.

I get so much out of doing workshops: will I get anything at all out of giving them?

workshops

I have decided to plunge in and offer some slabbing workshops, hoping to bring together a few people who can see their manipulation of clay and fire as a vehicle for ideas and connection. It is hard to imagine the leap of faith necessary for people who have never touched clay to see how they can produce something that is not blobby and disgusting. It is my job to offer real boundaries to someone's aspiration: not too ambitious, but ambitious enough. We will probably not find anyone who is totally a beginner and perhaps even come up with some people who have ideas and know their mind. But I have no expectations one way or another, in this regard.

In fact, it is patent that I have very few expectations: I am sure of what is on offer and positive that it is good value and worthwhile. I am sure that the experience of working in a group towards a three dimensional object that you create from a blank material should be richer than working alone in pre-formed substances that offer much more limitation from true outset... so long as you are not too intimidated at the prospect!

The reason for insisting on slabbing is that you have to have a solid starting point given that everything else is open to interpretation.

We will see who takes up this challenge and what the end product will be.

Workshop will be on 22nd and 29th June and on 13th July 2012 in Holymoorside Village Hall.

Ancient Rugs

Under my feet, a beautiful Persian rug. The angular designs are full of movement and expression. The fine threads stand perfectly erect, side by side, all absolutely identical, a deep blood red ground contained by exquisite black lines, columns, boxes and hatchings.

Our smart living rooms are a fit context for these superb works of art. They sit there and give us the feeling of great luxury and affluence. But where did this serene artefact start life? In such a different place, in such different circumstances! Can I imagine where the first crossing of threads took place? The room, the village, the family? what sounds were about, what smells? What payment? What inspiration? What cause and reason? Why this and no other pattern? This and no other colour? How is it done, this perfect example of this ancient craft?  How was it arrived at?

There are records of patterns, names, descriptions; it is known where a rug comes from; its value can be estimated from the number of threads per inch and the quality of the material employed. There is a whole field of scholarship dedicated to this ancient tradition of rug making.

But the people who pursue this scholarship do not necessarily dedicate much time to considering the hands that do the work, or even those who profit from it.

I think of ancient patterns being handed down in families; I imagine small children and fine-boned women working the looms day on day, year on year, their slender fingers playing the described tune of their templates on the weft and weave; I think of dusty floors, cavernous, solitary, dusty workplaces and dimmed eyes counting threads,  choosing the next hue, putting in a mistake, unpicking a piece.

These books are full of nostalgia and wistfulness; they are sad and deliberate;  they have endured and survived many a mishap. They definitely take the long view; but they are fragile and vulnerable in their old age.