The Shape of Things
Not expecting a year of lockdown, I arrived in Madeira in March 2020 with a small bag of pencils and pastels. One of my great difficulties during this time has been to keep making without a studio. Usually surrounded by clay, kilns, and tools, but having next to nothing to work with, I have had to reinvent my ceramic habits.
As a sculptor, I think with my hands. My fingers somehow find what they need to communicate. I typically make first and, then, backtrack to figure out what I have been working out.
I could post-rationalise these earthen spheres saying that I have long been interested in the psychology of mandalas, but that was not my initial intention. I was, instead, sitting in my mother-in-law’s garden trying to manage my frustrations — make of that what you will — when the earth underneath my feet suddenly seemed a possible solution. I started rolling and rolling and rolling.
Firstly, the soil must be soaked and sieved — removing stones and organic matter. Next I add in paper fibres, and the clay is left to firm up. Compacted by hand, then with rudimentary implements, they are shaped into a sphere and, eventually, carved.
Each one must be slowly dried as this is the secret to their raw strength. Strangely, these orbs are stronger than fired ceramic. I have bounced them accidentally, and I have on occasion (deliberately) tried to smash them with a hammer.
It turns out a lot of materials under compression are resilient. The gradual squashing of the clay particles on the outside of the sphere forms a taut outer layer. However, once the surface area is compromised, there is so much stress that the whole thing will crack to pieces. In other words, you can bounce it, but you cannot twist, say, a knife into it.
Once gradually dried, I burnish them using a pencil. Graphite takes to the clay beautifully; polished, the spheres become aesthetically pleasing to hold and touch.
So, in summary, this forced time away from my routine has led to a serendipitous interest in the emergent field of green clay research. It is ecologically friendly and, as I look to return to my studio practice, something to which I will be devoting more efforts.
“That I am a part of the earth my feet know perfectly” ~D.H. Lawrence
