Monday, July 30, 2012

Slip sliding away...with sigs and blues test tiles

Porcelain Slip with Mason stains (X is a gray tone with sand)

 Faux Sigillata with 1% rutile over a commercial sculpture mix.  Crazing, but no shelling or shivering.

 Same faux sigillata with rutile on terra cotta earthenware. Left side with satin clear. Rich tone with no crazing.

Art to me is an anecdote of the spirit, and the only means of making concrete the purpose of its varied quickness and stillness.   Mark Rothko


layering stains and slips and adding visual depth through the use of blues

waiting for bisque firing

Thursday, July 26, 2012

A very quiet little happy dance!

 Two pieces were accepted into Visions in Clay by juror Joe Bova.  He also awarded second place to Behind Blue Eyes.  In his Juror's Statement he writes of why he chose this piece to receive an award. 

"Pathos is the dominant evocation in Charlene Doiron’s work. She has used facial expression to engage the viewer’s emotional responses. Of the three artistic/literary/rhetoric devices, ethos, logos and pathos, it is my opinion that pathos resonates the most with the viewer. It elicits empathetic responses and stirs the viewer’s imagination to examine their own experiences and to identify with the work before them. Doiron’s work is an excellent example of the power of quiet work."  Joe Bova

 I am very humbled and honored to have my work in this show that I am lost for words.
  Trust me, I am very pink right now and hiding behind my un-blue eyes...

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Eggless nests and future possibilities

Lately there's this strange lull in my life.  A quietness, a fresh stillness that rises in the heat of the morning.  A little pocket of time that I fill with small longings and long walks wondering.  I need to get some things done.    I know that, yet I am still wandering. My hands always, always busy, making, forever making.  My thoughts hovering and gliding.  Around and around it goes on this warm summer day.

I discovered a hummingbird nest on my front sidewalk the other morning.  It was so light and so very fragile. Usually the nests hang tight onto the tree limbs, eroding by autumn into little lumps of debris.  Somehow this one floated down and I recognized it for what it was. A bowl of spinning grasses and alyssum, bits of dryer lint woven in between and a little white feather.
Nests connotes many things, but not so much of summer days slowly spinning shorter. I know, for some, nests symbolize comfort, home and security.  Family.  For me, during summer, nests are containers that hold the future past and the possibilities. Still spiraling, still weaving a life of breath and beauty.  Most nests are empty now, some still hidden behind tree leaves or drying reeds.  The maker defined by weft and warp.  Of mud and style.  Of little concern (dove) or great care (robin.)

The world is full of hopeful analogies and handsome, dubious eggs, called possibilities. ~George Elliot

So here I sit making my little clay nests with less ability than a robin and with more care than a dove. On this quiet, not so exciting, lulling summer day.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

With silent clay words I listen

At a certain point, you say to the woods, to the sea, to the mountains, the world, Now I am ready. Now I will stop and be wholly attentive. You empty yourself and wait, listening. After a time you hear it: there is nothing there. There is nothing but those things only, those created objects, discrete, growing or holding, or swaying, being rained on or raining, held, flooding or ebbing, standing, or spread. You feel the world's word as a tension, a hum, a single chorused note everywhere the same. This is it: this hum is the silence.....
~Annie Dillard from Teaching a Stone to Talk

In the background, behind and beyond this blog, I have quietly continued to work on this and that. Little bits of things such as trying to lose the word expectation. I just could not sit down and write. I needed no writing and no reading solitude for a little while.  More silence so I could listen closely to what the clay is saying to me.

It's stop and go in my studio recently.  I thought I had more throwing clay, but it turns out all those boxes are sculpture clay.  I took it as a signal to get some sculptural work done until I can get to the nearest ceramic store. 

The piece on the left has had three different faces.  It just wasn't right. I got a little disconnected to  this piece after the third head.  The little mitten hand is just a visual aid for positioning. Maybe that's what is throwing me.  Taking photos sometimes helps.  After looking at this photo, changing the position of the arms---hanging down might help. Both arms down and holding an empty basket as if it's heavy.  Maybe the right face will come now.    Endurance... I keep hearing for this piece. 

The piece on the right came easily to me.  It is a long piece and the head is separate so I can get it into my kiln.  I find that the arms are also good things to fire separately.  I use bamboo skewers to position the arms.  I make sure to check them as the clay will shrink around the skewer making it impossible to remove.  It is okay if one side is stuck---it will burn out in the kiln.  But the whole point is to get the piece into the kiln with no damage to the hands or knocked off fingers.  These holes are also important. I use a piece of skewer and epoxy to position and attach parts. Sometimes it is possible to use glaze and fire to fuse the parts together.  However, things move around in the heat of the moment and the kiln has a joking mentality.  Epoxy is a more reliable friend.  It listens.

Popular Posts