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!