Who inspires you? Baltimore Clayworks shows the work of Educators and Innovators - My review and the powerful art of Kimberly Canfield

Dear Friends, when we last convened, you were kind enough to read “Mom, Hokusai and the Purple Potatoes, or Printmaking - the Reese’s Cup of the Art World,” in which I remembered our mom teaching us how to make prints by carving up potatoes and dipping them into paint.

Today I wanted to share with you the some thoughts about a really novel art show I visited at the Baltimore Clayworks over the weekend. “Keystone Clay: East” features the work of ceramic art professors and their students, side by side. All of the ceramic artists are from eastern Pennsylvania colleges and universities, such as West Chester University, Moore College of Art and Design, Millersville, Tyler, and Philadelphia University of the Arts. This intriguing idea for a show came from exhibitions director Mary Cloonan, who wanted to highlight the relationship between teacher and student, education and innovation.

I loved this exhibition. It was exciting to see the work, all of which was incredibly varied, and of exceptional skill and content. In her choice of pieces, Cloonan was also educating the viewer about the diverse ways in which artists can create with clay. Among the sculptural works were pieces that bridged the genres of abstraction, hyper-realism, conceptual, and narrative. Of the functional pieces presented, there were clear references to the work of Picasso, pop-surrealism, and American craft ceramics.

“Mama Fretelli” by Charlie Cunningham, Clay, Enamel and Synthetic Pearl Necklace

Is “The Goonies” your favorite film? It’s one of mine! (And I actually got to see the Goonies’ house!)

As a maker of clay things myself, I also found the exhibition very instructive. I was inspired by Rachel Sturino’s unique approach to combining clay and other materials, such as tape and plastic, in her piece, “Tools, Toys.” Also exciting were Jerry Kaba’s recordings of the sounds and “ooziness” of clay, which highlighted the materiality of the clay, but also seemed to treat the clay like a living being, as if it were an exotic species in the wild, its call preserved for posterity.

“Divvy” by Deborah Sigel, Egyptian Paste and Steel

One of my favorite pieces was from Kimberly Canfield, studio tech at West Chester University, and creator of “Help Me to Help You to Help Us: Xavier.” On a white pedestal, just inches above the floor, Canfield has placed the scorched clay figure of a small girl, perhaps 3 or 4 years old. Her skin is a mottled reddish brown and carbon black, and her head is bald, as if her hair has been burned away. She sits with her head bowed, and her knees drawn up toward her chest, like she has just been scolded.

Even more shocking to see is that the little figure has no arms - where her arms might have joined her torso are gaping holes, rimmed in clay. The openings remind me of the kind of sockets that would accept a ball joint- like on a Barbie doll. Were her arms lost in the fire? Or torn away through hard play before it began? Or perhaps removed?

On her legs are horizontal gashes. Some are deep, and still open, while others appear to have closed in healing. They look like the kind of cuts that one makes to themselves, the kind labeled as “self- harm.” Is this why her arms have been removed?

She wears a fresh white tunic. After the fire, either she, or someone who loves her, dressed her again in clean clothes. I crouched down on the floor to see the figure’s expression. Her face, exquisitely modeled, was caught in a moment between rage and despair. And underneath it all was contempt- contempt for herself? Contempt for the one who took her arms? Or even contempt for us, the viewer, for the humiliation of seeing her this way?

The title of the piece, “ Help Me to Help You to Help Us: Xavier“ indicates a relationship with another person, and also with a larger group, such as a family. It is the pithy version of something a frustrated parent might say to a “problem” family member. The parent, struggling to help, but who can’t seem to “get through,” is at odds with the child, who has isolated herself, and is not in control of the behavior causing the issue.

At the same time, the title can also refer to parts of oneself. Here, the self seems to be split in two- with the little girl, or “inner child,” representing the part of oneself that battles with self-destructive behavior or addiction, and the part that wants to stop. We do not see this other “adult” self, but its presence and intent is made clear by the white tunic and by the fact that the child’s arms have been removed, presumably to stop her from cutting (or burning) herself. The irony here is that the efforts of the “adult” self to stop the self-harming behavior are just as violent and destructive.

Detail, “Help Me to Help You to Help Us: Xavier,” by Kimberly Canfield, Earthenware and Linens

“Xavier” is perhaps a reference personal to the artist. The name means “new house” in Basque, but is probably more recognized from the Jesuit missionary, St. Francis Xavier. Is the artist invoking the saint for help? “Xavier” also sounds quite a bit like “savior.”

This powerful piece shows us, with a great deal of honesty, the complexities of dealing with coping mechanisms that have become out of one’s control. But it also points to the challenge of existing in a chaotic world. We all have ways of navigating through the world that make life a little easier, at least for a time. The artist’s perspective, though, is not without hope.The little girl is indeed ravaged, but her white tunic becomes a symbol of the love that she, or someone else, still has for her. By creating this sculpture, the artist elevates, and makes beautiful, the struggle to continue living.

Detail, “Help Me to Help You to Help Us: Xavier,” by Kimberly Canfield, Earthenware and Linens

Baltimore Clayworks will be hosting another exhibition of works by teachers and their students, this time from ceramic programs in Western Pennsylvania. “Keystone Clay: West” will run from March 16th to May 11th, 2019. There will be also be an opening reception on Saturday, March 16th from 6-8pm. I’ll be sure to see what I know will be another stunning and thought provoking exhibition. And I hope I’ll see you there!

What's up with the Warren? or Sumerian votive figures, patrons, and my thing about rabbits

When last we convened dear reader, you were kind enough to read my thoughts about art and collecting in “Bmore Out and About: my evening at Connect+Collect at the Motor House.” After the discussion, the event concluded with an opportunity for artists and art collectors to socialize. While enjoying a delicious whiskey concoction from the Showroom Bar, I was delighted to meet one of the patrons. He took one look at my card and remarked- “You have a thing for rabbits, don't you?

Suddenly I could see him imagining what he thought my home must look like- the walls covered in pink bunny wallpaper, every square inch festooned in collectible rabbit figurines, soft green carpets like a bed of tasty grass...and me, featured on CBS’s Sunday Morning in the “quirky people” report, where Mo Rocca marvels in hushed tones “Look at these people! They’re crazier that you!”

No, dear reader, I wouldn't say I have a thing for rabbits at all.

I started to explain to the gentleman that the shape and gesture of the rabbits were inspired by ancient Sumerian votive figures, that their functionality has deep resonance in my own art practice, that I feel a connection to the artists who created the figures from so long ago...

The patron smiled and nodded knowingly.

“Care for another drink? he asked.

Me: (Sigh)

And therein lies the humor in attempting to explain the origins and social relevance of your art in a crowded bar.

The following is an attempt to clarify the message I convey to others about the body of work that I have come to call “the warren.”

Last year I started making small rabbit sculptures, which also functioned as incense burners. I had come up with the idea after researching some ancient sculptures to share with my Handbuilding with Clay students. I hadn't seen the Sumerian votive figures since my first art history class in art school. Back then I saw them as oddly funny, somewhat creepy versions of the “Sound of Music” singers. With their stiff posture, tightly clasped hands, and inordinately large eyes, they appear eager, ever watchful, and awaiting your next command.

Upon further research, I read that the ancient Sumerians built small, one room temples to house their gods and goddesses. The temples were quite literally regarded as the dwelling place of the god or goddess on earth, and, as such, only an elite group of clergy would be allowed to enter to perform rituals, or service the gods’ needs. Barred from entering, well heeled worshippers commissioned figures to act as the physical representations of themselves in the temple. The artists who created these figures chose to represent the devotion of the worshippers by posing them in a gesture of perpetual readiness. Eyes wide, almost cartoonish, (think of Scrooge McDuck when he sees a pile of cash) they want only to bask in the gaze of their deity.

The idea of these representational devotional figures is very familiar to me. Growing up in the Catholic Church, I was surrounded by images of worshippers in poses of adoration. Stained glass windows, paintings, and sculptures lined the walls and halls of the church and school I attended.

I pondered. What if I were to turn this idea of devotion inside out? What if the sacred space were within? Where the deity resides inside the figure, indeed is the figure?

I altered the gesture of the Sumerian figure from one of servitude, to one of reverence and protection. One viewer remarked that it is similar to the gesture that one makes in the “holding the ball” form in Tai Chi. While the gesture of the rabbits was not derived from Tai Chi, it is a fitting comparison. Tai Chi practitioners focus their energy with the intent of moving and balancing it, (and themselves,) within a space. This energy could also be described as one’s essence, or life force.

Detail, “The Wedding Party” Clay, underglaze, glaze.

I changed the figure from a human form into a kind of rabbit/ human hybrid. I wanted my subject to be as close to the natural world as possible. I chose rabbits because of their iconic and complex history in many cultures, and because of their exaggerated eyes and ears. All rabbits have the eyes of prey- that is, they are situated on either side of their skulls so that they can see a predator coming from nearly all sides. I positioned the eyes of my rabbit figures to face a bit more forward. I wanted them to come across as autonomous- powerful and independent actors in their own lives. At the same time, each has within them a hollow- one that harkens back to home, to self, to a tender space that needs protection.

I made a space in the back of each figure for a cone of incense to be lit. The smoke from a lit cone of incense floats up into, and curls around the figure. A small wisp comes out of the hollow the rabbit caresses. While rabbits have no need for ritual, it is a human act of remembrance and honor to light a candle, or burn incense. I wanted my hybrid figures to be functional in this way, to tie them to their beginnings as servants, but also to remember their own connection to the sacred within themselves and others,

Detail, “The Wedding Party”

Before I knew it, I had made 10 figures, and was still in the process of making more.

“Your rabbits are multiplying.” said my studio mate. She was curious to know how many I had planned on making, and possibly to see if I would continue to clutter up the studio with all of their bunny parts. I hadn't planned on anything, really, but answered, “At least a few more.” and then blurted out “And then I'm gonna make a giant one!”

“Hmmm.” she nodded.

“The Wedding Party” Clay, underglaze, glaze

And so began my “warren.” Since then, I did indeed make a giant votive bunny, as well as quite a few more small rabbits, a medium sized rabbit-urn, a dozen or so clay “paintings” and several rabbit tiles.

After building so many of the three dimensional rabbits, I yearned for immediacy that drawing provides.

I remembered how Patty Bilbro, one of the talented resident artists at the Baltimore Clayworks, drew onto the surface of each of the vessels she created. I loved the gesture and freshness of her figures, and wanted to see if I could create that same spontaneity by drawing into the clay itself - somewhere between a sunken relief tile and an etching. Soon I had made quite a few of these sketches in clay, and the story of the rabbits evolved further. They started to appear in family groups. Some were caught in the middle of arguments. Others were captured in a quiet moment of reflection. There were wedding portraits

Earthenware plate, by Patti Bilbro, 2018. Check out more of Patty’s work here

“The Family” Clay, underglaze, glaze

“The Wedding Party” Clay, underglaze, glaze

Today I am still experimenting with this method of exploring the subjects of “the warren.” Not sure how many more I will make, but the thoughts and ideas behind the rabbits continue to hold intrigue for me.

So. Now that I’ve had a chance to explain myself- I’d like to ask you a question, and I’d like an honest answer.

So, here goes…

“Do you think I have a thing for rabbits?”

Monumental Votive Rabbit, Clay, paint, H 36 in. x W 14 in. x D 16 in.

The 11 month plan, "Kondoing" the studio and Festina Lente

Dear reader, since we last convened you were kind enough to read my thoughts in my last blog post, entitled “The New Year's Gift, or how Sometimes a Nuisance can lead to a Minor Epiphany.” You might recall how, after spending 3 days sick in bed, I rose, Lazarus-like, to the epiphany of the importance of order, cleanliness and structure in one's home- and how I subsequently de-cobwebbed and decluttered my way into a renewed sense of hope and possibility.

Since then I have been eager to apply the same zeal for order to my art practice. I started off the year “Kondoing” my studio: organizing everything so that I could readily see what materials I had available. I recycled about 50 lbs of clay, and prepped it for use on a new piece. I swept and scrubbed the floor.

But, while organizing my studio space is a great start, it will take a bit more to develop a plan for my art practice for 2019.

I start by looking back at what has been big year for me - art wise.

In 2018, I started teaching Tilemaking and Handbuilding classes, participated in my first ever art fair, and had a solo show in a beautiful space at the Baltimore Clayworks. I began a series of small tiles and sculptures to sell at the Greater Goods Market at the R house garage, and moved into a larger studio space- ideal for making more complex work. Lastly, I joined the the Equity, Diversity and Inclusion committee at the Clayworks.

And while all this is good, I don’t feel as if I’ve even scratched the surface of what I could be doing. I listened to an interview today on WYPR with Tom Hall and acclaimed classical violinist Jennifer Koh. In it, Koh asks” How am I serving my larger community? How am I serving my artistic community? How I am I serving my art form?” I think these are the right questions to be asking oneself, and are especially helpful in crafting a plan of action for the new year. To this, however, I would also add, “How am I serving my family?” While I feel that I am the most actualized version of myself, my “best” self, when I am making art, my art practice alone does not currently provide enough income to sustain my family. One of this year's goals then, must be to increase the amount of income I can provide my family through my art practice.To this I will also add participating in opportunities to serve my larger community, my artistic community, and my art form as well.

So - lofty goals indeed! And just what does it mean to participate in “opportunities to serve my larger community…?” I don't know about you, dear reader, but I really can't begin anything, much less accomplish anything, without breaking tasks down into mini-tasks,- and most specifically delicious and bite-sized mini tasks, like the “Cheetos” of achievement.

The following is a proposed plan for my art practice for the next 11 months. Mapping out the year like this does give me a sense of orderliness, as if Marie Kondo herself had folded and stacked my life into neat little compartments. It is not without some anxiety, however. Like everyone else, I struggle to meet the demands of work, family, and my own aspirations to become a successful artist. I am hoping that taking the time now to map out my goals and priorities will actually facilitate my progress- or, as my father might say “Festina lente.”

Janurary

-Map out goals for 2019- haha! - done😀

-Research and apply for grants and shows that may be receptive to my work. (I find a lot of information about these opportunities on the Bmore Art “Calls for Entry” page)

-Make a high-relief press mold of my votive rabbits to “mass produce.” Experiment with versions that hang on the wall, and that would stand upright on a table.

-Continue construction of large clay slit gong (approx. 4 ft”) to add to body of work shown at Clayworks in Fall of 2018

-Continue teaching at Clayworks

February

-Make a linocut of votive rabbits and print a small run on high quality paper.

-Complete construction of large clay slit gong.

-Research images and references for new series of “identity shields”- 8 to 12 clay shields that can be worn, and will be able to hang on a wall. These shields will bear the marks of battle, and be adorned with faces and reminders of one’s identity

-Research galleries in Phila for show of shields for 2020

-Find community meeting to attend. - get out and about!

March

-Make small face and mask studies in preparation for large faces on the front of the identity shields.

-Sell small works at Greater Goods Market at the R house garage

-Research and attempt to meet with artist with similar tone of work, to learn how they moved forward, and steps that I can take that I may be missing.

-Find community meeting to attend.

April

-Visit Philadelphia to research galleries to show new work.

-Sell small works at Baltimore Faerie Faire.

-Make a high-relief press mold for a second series of my votive rabbits to “mass produce.”

-Begin construction of Shield series.

-Find community meeting to attend.

May

-Sell small works at Greater Goods Market at the R house garage.

-Continue construction of Shield series.

-Begin to assemble all of the photos I have taken of my work over the past few decades (did I just say decades?)

-Find community meeting to attend.

June

-Finish Construction of Shield series.

-Sell small works at Greater Goods Market at the R house garage

-Organize photos of work according to date, tone, general theories.

-Attempt to find a mentor to help push both work and career.

-Find community meeting to attend.

July

-Glaze shields.

-Reflect on past work, through photos, and begin to organize thoughts in words, through essays.

-Further push search for mentor.

-Find community meeting to attend.

August

-Glaze and fire all shields.

-Assemble structural elements to hang shields.

-Continue to work on essays, reflecting on past work.

-Further push for mentor.

-Find community meeting to attend.

September

-Assess where I am in terms of finding a place to show my work. Make a harder push. Visit more galleries.

-Continue on essays reflecting on past work.

-Make a high-relief press mold for a third series of my votive rabbits to “mass produce.”

-Find community meeting to attend.

October

-Sell small works at Greater Goods Market at the R house garage

-Possible Solo show at unknown Philadelphia or Baltimore gallery.

-Continue on essays reflecting on past work.

-Find community meeting to attend.

November

-Sell small works at Greater Goods Market at the R house garage.

-Research galleries in the larger markets. NYC, L.A., etc. Plan a trip to one of these cities.

-Find community meeting to attend.

December

-Prep essays and pictures for an art book, including works and thoughts up to this point.

-Research how to crowdfund to create an artbook.

-Set date to launch crowdfunding.

-Make definitive plans to visit galleries in the larger markets.

-Sell small works at Greater Goods Market at the R house garage.

-Find community meeting to attend.

New studio space? Yes, please!

Dear Friends, I've moved into a new studio!

I'll still be with all the amazing artists at the Baltimore Clayworks, but this new space is much larger than where I've been. It gives me the room to tackle some creative challenges I just can't wait to sink my teeth into!

Plans include a new series of "Wonderland" sculptures and wall pieces, as well as a run of tiles.  I'm making the tiles as a way to help support my larger work, and the cost of my studio. They'll be available soon on my website, as well as at one of the Greater Goods Markets at R House.

Lastly, I'm really looking forward to welcoming friends at my first "open studio" soon.  But for now, I've got to get working!

Ceramic Sculpture Culture

Last Thursday I attended a presentation by Ceramic Sculpture Culture, an artists' collective which works to promote the art of emerging sculptors creating narrative and figurative work in clay.  The collective's founders, Taylor Robenalt, Kevin Rhode, and Travis Winters, spoke to a full lecture hall of students, community members and faculty in the Arts Center of Towson University.  Mary Cloonan, exhibitions director at the Baltimore Clayworks, moderated the discussion following the presentation of the artists' work.   

"Can't Knock Me Down" by Travis Winters

Robenalt, Rhode, and Winters founded Ceramic Sculpture Culture in response to the challenges they faced building their artistic careers and selling their work after graduate school.   Each found the market for figurative ceramic work to be slim.  For marketing purposes, "ceramic" and "sculpture" have been two separate categories, and the idea of "ceramic sculpture" is a somehow unmarketable mix of each.  This points right to the "fine art" vs. "craft" distinction.   How is a gallerist to approach selling a work that, in content, is "fine art,"  but is made with a "craft" material such as clay?   To further complicate matters, many ceramic sculptors (myself included) reference traditional pottery forms in their work.  How are these pieces to be categorized for sale?  

Taylor Robenalt, from wallhangings series

After discussing their predicaments at last year's National Council on Education of the Ceramic Arts (NCECA)  Robenalt, Rhode and Winters decided to invite seven other ceramic sculptors to be part of a group to help promote each other's work.   Using social media and their shared contacts, the collective hopes to bring about a greater awareness and appreciation of ceramic sculpture to the art world and beyond. 

Presentation topics also included the challenges of continuing an artistic practice after graduation, artists' residencies, and approaching galleries to show your work.  Robenalt, Rhode and Winters took turns discussing their experiences and sharing advice.  

Kevin Rhode, "Realeyes"

The Ceramic Sculpture Culture collective has big plans for the future- including a website, juried shows, and even a book.  For now, check out their instagram page to see examples of their work.   Also, check back here in a few days for another post I will be sharing about some insights I had after the lecture.  

Links to check out:

Ceramic Sculpture Culture on Instagram

Taylor Robenalt

Travis Winters

Kevin Rhode

Mary Cloonan

Towson University