myartiststatement

(if i use more than one word in the title, it turns into blocks. damn.)
(i had to write this for the book for the show tomorrow.)
I am vastly enamored of the wood-fired surface. The complex patterns of flashing and ash, the myriad surfaces smooth to stony, the obvious paths of flame across the face of the pot all combine to fascinate me at every kiln unloading. My work, which is entirely functional, evolves constantly to better suit my interest in the effects of fire. My glaze palate is spare, mostly liner glazes to preserve functionality. I use a variety of slips and a black underglaze to make simple designs. These designs are pulled from my surroundings and distilled into as few brushstrokes as possible. My goal in decoration is to find motifs that lend themselves to the organic nature of wood-firing. My overall desire in making pots is to create a body of work that is both functional and intriguing to the eye and hand.

reply

of course you have to weigh in on this one, gabey! all that philosophy has you primed for questions like this one. i have to disagree, though, on your concept of "art." there has to be some element of craftsmanship involved. andy warhol, who irritated many with his deification of household objects, still had the incredible skill to depict it. there must, in my mind, be some synthesis of intention and craftsmanship. art is not just whatever you feel. blue ducks in bow ties are not art. they are paper towels. (sorry, grandma.)and no, maybe the title "art" is not a prize, but it is something that you earn.
i do not think that the market actually dictates what is art. i think that it often misses art entirely. my point was merely that the market does get to dictate what the larger audience gets to see, therefore informing its idea of "art."
but now, as much as i would really really love to stay up and think about this some more, i have to go to bed. i have an opening at the Front Gallery tomorrow evening!

koons

jeff koons: art? or bullshit? i am nervous about making calls like this, but something in my artistic sensibility is offended by gigantic blue metallic hearts suspended by silver ribbons being proffered as art. by basketballs suspended in distilled water. by enormous pseudo-balloon poodles cast in colored steel. by toasters or deep fryers or vacuum cleaners suspended in front of fluorescent tubes and displayed by national art museums. i am greatly in favor of found object art. my recently departed friend john payne was a master at it. he created astounding moving sculptures with recovered metal. koons seems to merely think "SHINY!" and count it good. in the NPR article on him, the curator summed up his motif as "ta-da!" yes, i can see that. but does that make it art? is it enough to have a sense of whimsy and the money to cast it into stainless steel or assemble it into REALLY huge piles of shrubbery? the damnable thing is that the market will ultimately decide if koons is art or not. and the fact that his super-enormous Tiffany-christmas-ribbon-bauble sold for 2.3 million dollars seems to say that it is. i only hope that history takes pity on us, the culture that eviscerated robert maplethorpe (yes, but have you seen his OTHER photos?)and deified the shiny orange poodle. ouch.

loco for locavores

yes, i am still on the local food bandwagon. it is hard not to be when you can get up at 7 and pick things like these out of your own garden. well... i use garden in the very loosest of terms. blackberries and raspberries grow wild all over my yard. the blueberry bush is a single specimen which bears like crazy all by its little lonesome just outside the kitchen window. the mint is a volunteer underneath the overflow of the clogged gutter. i hope it doesn't die when i clean them out. my other gardening endeavors have yet to manifest. well, i did buy a lovely fig tree, which michael planted for me. but that is the extent of my actual planting about the place. i had the distinct disadvantage of having moved in on june first, after all of the planting and early work should have been long done. i suppose that if i had dropped everything, built raised beds, and bought sets of baby plants, i might be reaping a first harvest about now. alas. i did not. there is always this winter and next spring. but i do have the comfort of bi-weekly tailgate markets and a wonderful CSA. annie even lets me trade out the summer squash and zucchini. (daddy, you would love her.)
and here is where audience participation comes in... i need a good cobbler recipe. preferably the one grandma used. my grandma, your grandma... someone's grandma! if i get one i really love (you bet i will vet them until my berries run out!) i will publish it here. i will ask my culinary secret weapons, jane and karen, and let you know what they come up with, too.
thank you! and i look forward to hearing from you.
lovepeace
heather

locavore

this is my new favorite word. having been a slow foodie for almost two years now, it has taken a couple of well placed books to completely swing me over. i recently read michael pollan's "omnivore's dilemma" and am now reading barbara kingsolver's "animal, vegetable, miracle." (i say read... but i actually am ingesting them unabridged through my auditory canals. more about the wonders of audiobooks later.) for those of you unacquainted with the term, "locavore" means one who eats locally. no, not at the mcdonald's up the street. locavores eat food that was grown, spawned, birthed, hatched, milked, laid, or otherwise produced within a hundred miles of where they live. the food is usually not certified organic, but most of it is grown with more attention to the original intentions of the organic movement than its vacuum sealed, styrofoam-bedded, cellophane-wrapped grocery store counterparts. i am a little wary of the old fella who grows obscenely mammoth winter squash and bushels of greasy beans, but only because i remember grandpa and granddaddy's fondness for sevin dust. the advantages are myriad, but i will stick to the big three. one: because it comes from farms within an half an hour radius of asheville and is mostly grown without the dubious benefit of petrochemicals, it involves far, far less petrol than the same sort of thing shipped from california. or peru. the benefit in that is irrefutable. regardless of how you feel about al gore. two: variety! o my goodness! leafy greens like kale, collards, chard, russian kale, lacinato kale, every imaginable lettuce except iceberg, callaloo, bok choy, pak choy, and stuff i've never even heard of! tomatoes in every shade except maybe blue. carrots in purple, red, orange and near white. strawberries and blueberries. a plethora of eggplants and the dreaded summer squash. herbs to savor up any dish. because these farmers are real people and not agribusinesses, they have the ability to plant heirloom varietals that may be too delicate to make it a thousand miles to your table. or too regional to sell in peoria. like the hillbilly tomato. a sunset in every bite, the plant tag suggests that it be served in a sammy with wonderbread and duke's mayonnaise in front of the television set along with a cold PBR and a serious dose of nascar. that's a lot for one little plant tag. they also turn to pulp if handled too much, and they hate cold. so nix that one from the refrigerator truck. many farmers here are proud to be growing varieties that have been local for many years. like greasy beans and cherokee purple tomatoes. they exchange seeds and seedlings, much to the disgruntlement of monsanto and other botanical kidnappers. no one owns the genes of these little heroes of the plant world. with so much of the arable land of this planet dedicated to only a very few, very specifically bred varieties of corn and soy, the food supply that the majority of the world depends on is in incredible peril from microbial attack. did these folk learn nothing from the irish potato famine? besides, and this brings me to number three, it just tastes better and is better for you. locally grown produce is fresh from the field. the kale we ate last night was pulled yesterday morning. as were the carrots, beets, shallots, and potatoes. they taste like vegetables, not cardboard. the flavors and textures are bright and crisp. they have a flavor unique to those grown in these soils, with this particular water source, a terroir if you will. and foods eaten so soon after harvesting still retain all of the nutrients that leach out on a long trip across the world. vitamins, minerals, antioxidants, micro-nutrients, TASTE.
we will see how i feel about local food in midwinter, when all i can find are eggs, goat milk, potatoes, onions, sweet potatoes, and (if the crop is good) lots and lots of apples. i think that my next purchase will be a gigantic freezer for my basement, so that i can preserve the bounty of summer until it arrives again next year.


post script: i am still not eating the spawned, birthed or hatched. i am still a vegetarian, too. but with excellent sources of truly free-range eggs and goat milk (been to the farm!), i feel better about some consumption of animal products. i am even learning how to make cheese. look out for the cooler when i visit, my dear family. goat mozzarella is my next frontier. and no, traveling 697 miles WITH food is not so much an ethical dilemma.