looking back, looking forward...

Hey y'all. So, you might have noticed I've refrained from writing here for a few weeks time. This is because I've been busy in the studio making new work. To go along with new work, I'm building a new blog full of lovely features, clearer navigation and an all around fresh feeling. I'm taking wordpress for a spin, and can't wait to link you up to the new site when she's up and running. 

But first...

When I'm looking for new inspiration, before going to the studio I spend my mornings looking through books and websites. Free information is everywhere. Rejoice! The Toronto Public Library is amazing, and I've also been finding some great online sites related to craft/art that you should know about:

I think I've mentioned Craft in America before, but it's an amazing resource with an accompanying book, TV show, online exhibits, and even a free 'study centre' section. Super. Here's one of many videos you can watch:

Craft is art people! Love it. I could spend all day on this site, but there's another one you should visit:

Paul Mathieu has published a FREE online book titled, The Art of the Future. (I learned about this resource through the Ontario Craft Council's email newsletter.) Paul has written fourteen chapters on the history of ceramics from a "why" perspective, rather than the usual context of "when" or "by who" a ceramic object was made, with accompanying photographs for each juicy section (flux, shelter, sex, death...). Reading it reminds me of the relationships built between humans and clay, over millennia, to create ceramic objects with meaning. And maybe more importantly, to lose the focus on the "when" and get to the real meat of the matter: Why were/are ceramics important?

As Paul Mathieu argues in his book: "Ceramics is a very misunderstood art form and the blame for that sorry state of affairs lies largely within the field itself. Ceramics as a practice has been dismally effective, amazingly inefficient at explaining itself convincingly as relevant within culture now and more specifically within the art world. I hope this book will provide...an effective argument for relevancy and necessity of ceramics not only in the more or less distant past but now, today, as well and hopefully in the near and distant future too. To argue with conviction that, yes, ceramics is the art of the future."

And last but not least, a quote to ponder, one that is both reassuring and dismantling:
  
"Culture doesn't really beg people to pursue a career in the arts. I think you just decide every single day, you just decide you're gonna do it, because there's so many reasons not to do it." 
-Cary Esser, Ceramics Professor, Kansas City Art Institute

origins...

Dame Lucie Rie. Porcelain bottle vase, c. 1952.

Yesterday I visited the TPL and found a great book, The Potter's Art by Garth Clark. This "complete history of pottery in Britain," highlights traditions in the history of English potting, including the peasant, industrial, artist and studio potter. It has been satisfying my desire for new inspiration, having a good balance of wordiness and juicy photographs. How stunning is this piece above, by Dame Lucie Rie? I remember her work being one of the first to make a big impression on me when I had just started in ceramics at OCAD. So pure & beautiful.

Hannah Barlow, Doulton's Lambeth Art Pottery, handled vase,
saltglazed stoneware, 1874.

And on a very different plane, I was also drawn to this 

vase by Hannah Barlow for Doulton. It's amazing to see a 

piece like this, that was made in 1874, and see parts of it 

that are still quite contemporary. Flora + fauna will never 

go out of style, I suppose. Enjoy the eye candy.

(Pictures above taken from The Potter's Art by Garth Clark, 1995)

Here are a few shots of the new studio: I've already been so inspired by the space & feeling more energized. I can't wait to create the pieces that are still just ideas in my mind. This picture above is so simple, but pleasing. I think it's the aqua/red colour combo.

a place with space...

 

I'm officially moved-in! Here's a peek at my new space for making, complete with giant windows, scads of natural light and sturdy shelving! Ahhh. Feels good. Lot's of organizing to come, but I'm enjoying the relieving feeling of finally being settled. 

Found this excellent quote today. Perfects for over-analyzers like myself:

"You know, I'm sick of following my dreams, man. I'm just going to ask where they're going and hook up with 'em later."  Mitch Hedberg

bye, bye, birdie.

 

Forgive me for the pink crocs, but behold! My first act of ceramic-y-ness after a lovely, and oh-so-short, vacation. The drop-off. These birdies, which I know I've blogged about all year, have just been taken home by their fabulous new owner, where they will be installed on a grand polished concrete wall. Can't wait to take shots in situ.
 

To quote L7, "The beauty process; the process, process." Dremel, 
sand, polish, repeat.

I have a few more installations coming up in the next handful of months. One will be a porcelain light/sculpture installation for a restaurant. I've always been curious about making light fixtures...time to call the electrician!

the apple never falls far from the tree:

It's amusing to see the common personality traits you've inherited from your family. For me, passed along down the Speck/Finlayson lines were a love of art + creativity, a deep reverence for nature, fierce independence (aka stubborness) and, more recently in our family history, an undying allegiance to classic rock music. There might also be some fiery tempers in there, just sayin'. Our clan also agrees that keeping a good garden, whether for flowers or food, is paramount.

I recently discovered that my dad's descendants immigrated to Canada from England in the 1880s and founded a farm in Utterson, Ontario. John and Sarah Jane Speck (nee Prebble) had at least eight children, from what I can decipher from old census records, each of whom would have been vital to the daily operations of the farm. I have no idea what happened to the property, but I've had romantic notions of finding it, somehow claiming it back (ha ha) and starting up a herb/native grain farm and living as my ancestors did...without the whole Church of England thing. 

My mom's family of Poles and Scots veered towards annual + perennial flower gardening. Tall stands of hollyhocks made an appearance in several old photographs of my great-grandfather's garden in Toronto during the 1930s. Mom also recently uncovered this old bridge score book that belonged to her step-father's parents. It lists their entire planting schedule for the summer of 1934, with sow dates and seed counts to boot (are they for real? 20,000 cabbage seeds?). I feel like I've uncovered a time-capsule of plant-y knowledge.

Here's what they grew:

Veggies: cabbage, cauliflower, beets, celery

Flowers: salvia, snapdragons, verbena, ageratum, lobelia, petunias, zinnias, asters, salpiglossis, alyssum, clarkia, nicotiana

Sweet Peas...

...from the Dufferin Grove Farmers market. How beautiful are these flowers? They were grown by the folks at Under Ground Organics in Hamilton, who you can find at the Duff every Thursday afternoon. I hear they usually have long lines for their custom-made bouquets, but I snuck in a bit early and found these vibrant sweet peas. One of my mom's favorite flowers, and now mine, they really stand out in this new vase. I'm partial to the green/brown colour combination. What do you think?