Finishing my thesis

I'm about three pages away from being done with the first full draft of my thesis. So naturally I'm going to write a blog post. No one can tell me I'm not a fantastic procrastinator.

This will be short because I do want to get back to that, but I just wanted to share this amazing necklace I found while looking for thesis images. It's a necklace by Lynda Watson. (Apparently she got married between the time of OBJECTS: USA and today because now she's Lynda Watson-Abbott.) It's called Landscape Neckpiece and I absolutely love it. I really like bold, funky, chunky, handmade jewelry and this just called to me. If it weren't in the Museum of Art and Design, I would seek it out and probably just stare at it since I could never afford it. If you go to its page on the museum website you can zoom in on different details and see all the amazing little intricacies in it. Just astounding. Wouldn't you want to wear it?

The Global Africa Project

This past week I went to New York do do some thesis research at the Museum of Art and Design. Their mission, as stated on their website, is to "[collect, display, and interpret] objects that document contemporary and historic innovation in craft, art, and design." An early leader in the push to promote and preserve studio craft, the Museum of Art and Design remains a leader in sharing innovation in traditional methods and materials.

While there, I went through their exhibition, The Global Africa Project. An amazing collection of work, it features artists exploring what it means to be African around the world. Some of the works are funny, some are quite somber, some are innovative, some are functional, and some just left me standing with my mouth open, staring at the concept and craftsmanship. The statement for the exhibition on the website states that it "actively challenges conventional notions of a singular African aesthetic or identity..." The website features selected works from the exhibition, but if you are in New York, or get the chance to go before May 15th, 2011, go see this.

One of the ones I found most intriguing was Kim Schmahmann's Apart-Hate: A People Divider. Through a variety of media, the artist interprets the growth of apartheid in South Africa and the laws and their years are represented in the boxes falling in the left corner. The back of the work (not pictured) is also an example of the brilliant technical work this artist is capable of with woods, veneers, and metals. I stared at this work for a long time, absorbing its message as well as its beauty.

Unfortunately, I was unable to take pictures, and I had trouble taking pictures from the museum's website, so please, go look for yourself and find your favorite piece.

Dead or Alive?

My roommate and I play this "game" wherein we try and determine if people we're studying are Dead or Alive. It's not quite as morbid or strange as it might sound, but when you study and write about people born in the 1920s and '30s, its quite possible that they may no longer be with us on earth. The game really got started when we were without internet for two weeks in February because of the Great Snow of 2010. (I abhor the portmanteaus created to describe this massive meteorological event.) Fortunately, the internet in our apartment was restored and is very handy in helping us figure who is dead and who is alive.

Recently, I was happy to discover that Richard Shaw (a ceramicist I am researching for my thesis) is still alive and working! I love trompe l'oeil, and his is whimsical and fun. A Funk potter from California, Shaw always seems happy and like he is having fun with his work. As someone who was trained that functionality is the number one goal in making a ceramic work, I am excited when I see people using clay in fun and non-functional ways. His current work (above) is funny and technically amazing. The piece pictured is called "Rejected Lover Teapot" and while I feel a little bad for the guy on the edge of the plate, it also makes me laugh. See more of Shaw's great work here.

Photo from Shaw's website.

I can retain information!

One of my fears as I get older (yes, because I'm so old now...) is that I can't remember things. I've always been a little on the scatterbrained side--walking into rooms and not remembering why, being easily distracted by shiny objects--those sorts of things. Sometimes I worry about it more than others because I'm in a field where memory is incredibly important and being able to recall facts about who made what when is one of the cornerstones to the art history field. So, I was incredibly happy when I went to the Minneapolis Institute of Arts this past week and was able to rattle off names of makers as I wandered through the decorative arts galleries.

Hmmm... that looks like Knox silver (it was). That's a Royal Worcester plate. That's a Greene and Greene chair. That looks like Hannah Barlow. And it was Hannah Barlow! From Doulton Lambeth Art Pottery. I was pretty excited to remember this because I just learned about Hannah Barlow and her sisters this semester in my ceramics class. They were just decorators, not makers, because this was before the movement toward the potter being an all-in-one. Hannah, as you can see above, had a very sketch-book like style of decorating. She incised the clay, using it much more like a canvas than a vessel. The result are well-executed, warm, happy animals in a variety of scenes. Her work is friendly to me. Something I would like in my home to remind me of nature. And that's probably exactly why it was popular in its heyday.

And in case you were wondering, I was in Minneapolis to visit the new headquarters of the American Craft Council and their library to do research for my thesis. The new headquarters are quite lovely, in a fantastic old beer brewery building, and everyone was very friendly. I highly recommend a visit.

Collage Art

I've written a lot about ceramics lately, mainly because I was feeling guilty for writing about all that furniture I loved. (Furniture I've loved so much that I put the Panton Chair on my Amazon Wish List.) Often, when looking for inspiration about blog posts, or doing general research, I look at the V & A website and the Met's website. These two have some of the best online images and searchable databases for those doing research, or just interested in the visual arts.

Now that I cleared that up, I stumbled across this painting (above) by Romare Bearden when scanning through the Met's Timeline. I really enjoy the timeline because it shows you what was happening in the geo-political world when different works were being made. I've always really enjoyed Romare Bearden. I actually discovered him on a trip to the Mint Museum in Charlotte, NC, when they had a small gallery with his works. He was from Charlotte, but later moved to Harlem where he became a part of the Harlem Renaissance.

He often uses bright colors and collage elements to form his compositions. According to the timeline, he was inspired by jazz and worked to include the same musical ideas in his work. This painting, "The Block," was done in 1971. He wanted to show the vibrancy and life of a Harlem city block. Many of his works focus on home, family, tradition, and daily life. Take a look at the page for the painting to read more about Bearden, his work, and to see details of this happy piece.

Image credit: Metropolitan Museum of Art

Heroes

I met a hero of mine yesterday. Someone I've long admired and known we have friends in common, but I actually got to shake his hand and talk to him. His name: Mark Hewitt. He made the absolutely beautiful pots above, the photo of which I shamelessly borrowed from his phenomenal website.

Mark (I hope I can call him this now) works in Pittsboro, NC and comes from a long line of industrial potters in England. He traveled and learned the craft of pottery before finding his way to North Carolina. You can read his whole story here.

I was so excited to see him, and definitely had to work to keep myself from gushing. Yet, as we talked, he was down-to-earth, friendly, and seemed almost as excited to talk to me as I was to talk to him. He genuinely is interested in encouraging others in the arts and helping them learn and grow. We met because I was volunteering at Craft in America's "Crafting a Nation" conference in Washington, DC, where he was on a discussion panel. He shared a lovely essay he wrote about why he has apprentices and why encouraging younger students is important. It made me contemplate giving up this masters degree to go work in clay with him for two years. His excitement for clay and training the next generation is contagious and made me admire him even more.

I highly recommend if you are in NC, or will be, to attend one of his kiln openings. Or, if you're in DC, visit his piece in the Luce Center. Or find a gallery or other collection that has his work in your area.

Meeting Mark reminded me why I love potters so much. They are often humble, friendly people who want to know about you almost more than they want to sell their pots. And because they take that time, it just makes you want to buy their work and support them even more. So today, go out and support your local potter.

New Discovery

While searching for an image of Eva Zeisel's "Smoo" salt and pepper shakers, also known as the Town and Country dinnerware service, I stumbled across the image above of an inkwell she designed ca. 1929-30. I love the bright orange color and the geometry of the design. I didn't know she had work like this since I'm used to her more organic and muted dinnerware of the 1940s and '50s.

I'm intrigued that she designed an inkwell like this in 1929. I'm not sure when pens moved from needing an inkwell to the contemporary fountain or ballpoint we know today, but this seems a bit late. In my quick research I found there are a few inkwells in the early 1920s, but with a much more Art Deco feel. Zeisel's inkwell is a bit more Modern with a lack of ornamentation and strict geometry. In many ways it reminds me of Japanese or Chinese inkwells for calligraphy. Unfortunately, the Met Museum website doesn't provide much more insight into this piece, but I hope to stumble across more things like this.

Photo from the Met Museum.