An Unconventional Potter

Three small bowls, 2008

     Throwing again today for an upcoming Empty Bowls event in Richmond, Ky later this month. Despite the stormy weather and power outage in the early morning, I was able to start on making some bowls towards my total of 50. As I was centering my fifth or sixth or seventh ball of clay, I heard the voices of people I know asking, "Why don't you teach? How about offering lessons?" It's something I wish to avoid, quite frankly, but as I was making my bowls and stacking them on my tables next to me, I realized why. I'm a shitty thrower. I don't follow the basic rules of throwing and could never demonstrate because every example would be different than the next pot thrown. I have no consistency. And I don't care, either. I'm not in this because I have an obsession with the craft of being a potter and the historical connection to the past, blah, blah, blah. I have no romantic notions of the utilitarian and how noble it is, even if I do appreciate a good solid pot when I see one. I throw because I love working in clay and when you work in clay, it's something you learn to do. Someone trying to learn to throw from me would be instructed in what not to do.
I still have trouble centering.
If it isn't centered, I'll pull the form anyway until it becomes a disaster. And then I'll throw a fit.
I use clay that's too wet.
I use clay that's too dry.
I use the wrong ergonomic technique.
I use inefficient techniques.
I use the wrong tools.
I trim too much.
I trim too little.
I don't trim at all.
I don't use my chamois to soften my edges.
I don't clean up enough.
I overwork the clay.
I'm sloppy and clumsy.
My hands are in the wrong position.
My head is in the wrong position.
I don't open up enough.
My bowl bottoms are too shallow, too narrow, too flat.
My cups are too light. Or too heavy.
I don't throw tall enough.
My handles still suck.
     I am inconsistent to the end and so if you want lesson in how to throw, don't watch me. But if you want to know what it's like for a lot of people, feel free to watch me destroy a ball of clay, throw a fit and laugh at me in my insanity.

Gourds: New Bloom

New Bloom; 2011; Dyed hardshell gourd, gourd membrane, glass microbeads, milkweed pods, formed copper

This is the last of the gourd work recently completed. This piece is constructed from the top of a bottle-necked gourd and the inside membrane of various hardshell gourds. I find the inside material of gourds to be as fascinating as the outside shell. Sometimes it is unremarkable and porous, but other times it is papery and shimmery. The piece references a flower with a large "stamen and pistil" area comprised of milkweed pods. The feathery seeds have all since blown away.

Gourds: Nest Overflow

Nest Overflow; 2011; Dyed hardshell gourd, dyed toothpicks, silk, glass microbeads,Tamarisk branches, vines, pyrography, carved, assembled

Several years ago, I was visiting my friend, Robbin when she handed me this large gourd on her living room floor that was "over 50-years-old" or so she told me. She plopped in my arms and said, "Here. Do something with this." Well, Robbin, five years and one BFA later, here it is. I hope you like it. I doubt it's what you expected.
     This piece is a reflection on the material things or maybe non-material things that fill our lives and the near-to-bursting feeling it can create. The top is separated from the bottom like a hinged jaw. The toothpicks remind me of the baleen of a whale that takes in the thousands of krill to feed itself. The actual gourd is old and has split in some places as if it could not contain its insides. I expanded on that idea and it made me think about the lure of material goods and wealth we acquire over our lifetimes, the material "stuff" we fill our homes with in order to add value to ourselves. In some way, this piece could be seen as a celebration of good fortune but I think it should also make us question what really constitutes happiness and home, in the long run. How attached are we to our "stuff?" What do we give up to acquire material goods? How heavy a burden are our things? Do we compromise our decisions and our values in order to keep our things? All things to ponder, in my opinion.

Gourds: Control Freak

Control Freak; 2011; Hardshell gourd, dye ink, bronze spiculae, brass wire

This is the second gourd finished recently. For me this references the mother figure, specifically, or certainly a female figure, but every person has their own interpretation. Like a lobster trap, once you get in, you can't get out.

Gourds: Momma's Boy

Momma's Boy, 2011, Hardshell gourd, gourd seed, loofah, string, dyes, inks, copper banding

My BFA work in Metals centered around the combination of metal and gourds. I knew, because I have this weird fascination and obsession with gourds, that I wanted to combine gourds with the materials I was concentrating on in my degree program but I really expected to marry gourds and clay, not the metal.
     However, I found a conduit for my strong emotional response and reaction to my family situation at the time using the metal work to trap and encase the gourds I was drawn to. It was then that the gourds became the metaphor for the person, in particular, they often became the son. The metal became the mother figure. I explored the exploitation and power abuse of a parent to child in order to gain advantage in a divorce and custody situation. They addressed the parental alienation issues surrounding my husband's divorce and the effects on his young son.
     Time has passed and circumstances have changed. The power relationship between the mother and son has developed. The gourds still reference the human but now the mother/son elements are separating and have gained their own identities. A power struggle has developed as the child has matured into young adulthood. These new pieces address the elements in this. Metal still makes an appearance in these pieces but I am using it as support instead of a major element. I'm interested in exploring the gourd itself as a sculptural medium. More mixed media is being used, particularly natural elements. I've tried to make more use of gourd parts as sculptural elements when possible. The piece above, Momma's Boy, touches on the tangled, baggage-laden relationship of mother to son and the long-term issues that follow. The inside bowl of the main piece is covered with gourd seeds with the words: self, boy, man, mom, own, control and ... written on individual seeds. The "umbilical cord" penetrating the form and tangled inside is repurposed from the loofah gourds grown on my farm. This is one of four new pieces.

Tea Horse Studio

Green Bubble Stoneware Cup

Some new items up on Etsy including the drinking cup above. I love these pinch pots and the shape they create, the narrow bottom. They promote a sense of dignity and delicacy in a vessel made with the crudest of physical interaction with the clay. The motif is derived from textures I use in my fine art sculpture and makes me think of frog eggs clustered in a river, very organic, very life-oriented. I like drinking wine out of these cups. Makes me feel rustic!

Off-topic: Change

© 2011 cynthia cusick

    The only constant is change. Cliché. But true. Another one: All change is painful. If you weren't in pain, you wouldn't be changing. Sounds like a recipe for constant suffering, right? Now you understand why Zen and Buddhism plays a part in my life. And a sense of humor. The concept of change is an integral part of my work and what motivates and interests me. 

     When I was in school at EKU, one of the inevitable themes and comments that students would make about their work, including me, was how the work symbolized or referenced "growth." This made sense to me because the process of going through an art program is, or should be, the inevitable growth of basic artistic skills into a deeper understanding of one's point of view and a maturation of the work that resulted from it. The obvious metaphor for 'growth' was that the work was botanical and organic in nature. That's also an element of my work but I use organic things for additional reasons, not solely or even most importantly, the metaphor of 'growth.' So the fact that so many students, and other artists from other media, reference growth in their work tells me it must be an important idea for many people. When I think of the process of growth, however, I see it as slightly different but complimentary to, and part of, change as a whole. Growth, I see as movement forward on the life/death/life cycle. Change can happen during growth but may not always contribute to growth itself. Change can move the process of growth forward but maybe, sometimes, it just moves it sideways. Perhaps change is something that happens on a meta-level, as in, contributing to growth in the life/death/life cycle, but it also happens on the local level, such as positioning the entity to better achieve growth.
     And of course, I'm relating this now to living organisms because of my other obsession which is the human part of the natural-world puzzle and our ever-increasing tendency to believe we are separate from it, but change also happens to non-living things. That's another philosophical question for another time.
     I want to get deeper into the facets of change itself, the markers, the indicators, the journey and the feeling when it happens. I find that change, as a process, is often invisible to the participant. We often don't realize change until we stop for a moment and reflect. It's then that we can observe and note the differences between then and now. Those differences mark time and change but do we really feel it in the moment? I think the evolutionary record of life on earth is a beautiful example of indicators of time and change that we can see happened but cannot directly feel as it happens.
     I always try to remember that change contains information. It's how scientists do their jobs. You try something, note the changes and analyze the information contained in the change from point A to point B. Change and the effects of time are our textbooks to ourselves and our experience. Observation of changes contains the information we need to solve the puzzle of ourselves but so often, we miss the message. As Uncle Frank used to say: OBSERVE!