Making Waves
The waves became a symbol for me and a means to understand movement, partly because the natural inclination of waves is continuous motion, and I was always moving from one place to another. This oceanic metaphor of fluidity and allusion to impermanence resonated strongly with my need to hold on to certain experiences and people, and the simple fact that nothing stays the same. These reflections on the wave’s symbolism became an enquiry into the intellectual and emotional importance of fleeting moments and our connection to them: a search for a structure to connect with them.
The ceramic waves are constructed in layers of clay formed on a base of curved thin slats of wood. The clay wraps itself on to this surface, picking up the texture and form in a fluid arc. I often suspend this foundational structure from the ceiling, so that gravity can play its part as I add layers, allowing the material to dry between each progressive lamination. These ‘strata’ are intermixed with clays of different character, each with its own voice. Their distinct responses in the firing often create unforeseen interactions, their fusion recording the foundational wooden structure, which burns away and leaves them to find their own undulating equilibrium in the fire. The idea ‘fluidity’ emerging from fire is magical to me.
The ceramic waves are constructed in layers of clay formed on a base of curved thin slats of wood. The clay wraps itself on to this surface, picking up the texture and form in a fluid arc. I often suspend this foundational structure from the ceiling, so that gravity can play its part as I add layers, allowing the material to dry between each progressive lamination. These ‘strata’ are intermixed with clays of different character, each with its own voice. Their distinct responses in the firing often create unforeseen interactions, their fusion recording the foundational wooden structure, which burns away and leaves them to find their own undulating equilibrium in the fire. The idea ‘fluidity’ emerging from fire is magical to me.
The impression of the wooden armature, now long gone, records the marks of what was once there; impressions, lines and textures. This reflection of some other material enhances the transformation, the impression of something lost, shadowy; a solid fragment of something fluid and ephemeral.
The waves are often fired many times, with clay and glaze additions between each firing, as if in this repetition and lamination I am exploring the consequences of memory and its unresolved and evolving nature. Our experiences in life leave lasting marks, but the ´solid´ moment of experience is gone forever, evaporating into subtle essences with no structure for us to take with us. This is how I feel about my own life; where my experiences fuse and layer, their multiple impressions creating an inner ‘form’ that lives only in memory. Sometimes the forms I make approach this elusive state. Only Sometimes.
Working this way is not just about chasing a final colour or texture, creating something predictable. I want to hold on to a feeling, a thought, an experience; it’s a longing. That is why the waves are wild, full of their own energy—primeval. The wave comes and goes. So do we.
PART OF THE PROCESS, is this. After the first firing. When the wood has burnt away and the only thing left is the ashes and clay. It only lasts for few minutes. If I could glaze those ashes I would. Materialise the atmosphere, the imagined moment when the fire is burning the wood, like leaves lost in wind. I just love how fire made this and how the wind blows it away. The wood that creates the structure is gone. The time spent making; it is gone.
Working this way is not just about the final colour or texture. I want to hold on to a feeling, a thought, an experience; it’s a longing. Fr a short while. That is why the waves are wild, full of their own energy - primeval.
