AMY SWANSON
Handbuilt ceramic sculpture in a turbulent, high-fire atmosphere presents endless structural challenges. The only certainties are gravity and happenstance. To push those limitations my work is often very large and constructed using coils and slabs without the use of armature. These sculptures are either a single vessel or grouping of vessels that refer to or directly represent birds, the human form, seeds, stones, nests, and flora. Sculpture with a function, even an ambiguous one, lends itself to familiarity. My intent is to create vessels that address the sensuality of the material and the interconnectedness of life forms and circumstance.
Over five years ago I was introduced to the Jewel Creek anagama, or woodfire kiln. It is situated in the valley next to the creek about a mile as the crow flies from the Oregon coast. Woodfiring is a dirty, exhausting, and magnificent labor of love. The mark of fire suits my forms as much as the process gives me a sense of purpose. From the careful loading of the kiln to the last stoke of the fire, the time spent doing so is a sanctimonious effort. To woodfire is to abandon expectation and anticipate success as well as loss.
Handbuilt ceramic sculpture in a turbulent, high-fire atmosphere presents endless structural challenges. The only certainties are gravity and happenstance. To push those limitations my work is often very large and constructed using coils and slabs without the use of armature. These sculptures are either a single vessel or grouping of vessels that refer to or directly represent birds, the human form, seeds, stones, nests, and flora. Sculpture with a function, even an ambiguous one, lends itself to familiarity. My intent is to create vessels that address the sensuality of the material and the interconnectedness of life forms and circumstance.
Over five years ago I was introduced to the Jewel Creek anagama, or woodfire kiln. It is situated in the valley next to the creek about a mile as the crow flies from the Oregon coast. Woodfiring is a dirty, exhausting, and magnificent labor of love. The mark of fire suits my forms as much as the process gives me a sense of purpose. From the careful loading of the kiln to the last stoke of the fire, the time spent doing so is a sanctimonious effort. To woodfire is to abandon expectation and anticipate success as well as loss.