My artistic practice follows two distinct approaches, one that focuses on fine craft pottery that celebrates hand-made functionality and another that utilizes figurative and abstract sculpture to explore issues related to faith, suffering, and mortality. Whereas my functional vessels are meant to infuse beauty and value in everyday moments of eating and drinking, my sculptures provide a venue for me to examine and (try to) make sense of the good and bad I see in the world. The two bodies of work are two sides of the same coin for me, each following separate lines of concept and purpose but both sharing a connection in my handling of the clay and both satisfying my search for beauty and truth, albeit in different ways.
When I create, I have a tendency to get lost in the way clay responds to my hands. I’m fascinated by the way it folds, stretches, and cracks as it is acted upon, sometimes gently and other times forcefully. I’m especially drawn to the fluidity of the clay, which has the ability to seem soft and supple like folds in a blanket even after it has been fired. The surface textures and patterns I use invite touch and interaction, engaging the viewer in the artworks and enhancing the experience of using them. This fascination with the raw materiality of clay is often what drives my art-making and keeps me coming back to the studio.
Clay has been used for millennia to make a wide variety of objects, from humble vessels used for eating and drinking to priceless artifacts used in religious ceremonies. My own work, both functional and sculptural, celebrates that history, drawing inspiration from a variety of sources such as the haniwa figures of Kofun period Japan and buncheong pottery of Joseon Dynasty Korea. These artifacts speak to the human condition in ways that are still relevant today. Likewise, my hope is that my own “artifacts” speak to contemporary existence, contributing beauty and meaning to a world all too often devoid of those very things.