This November I was asked to be part of a group show at the Burlington Art Centre called Maker’s Choice. This was the 4th in a series of shows that brings contemporary makers into the permanent collection (the largest collection of Canadian ceramics anywhere) to select groups of pots for display in the Art Centre. We also had to write small essays that were collected in a catalog. The show will run until late January 2011. Below is a copy of my essay.
Maker’s Choice: Chris Hierlihy, October 2010
I have always been inclined to see the creative process as a version of the scientific method. One begins work with an idea, a theory about how to realize it, and once finished one evaluates the results and wonders again, beginning the cycle all over. Each completed pot exists as part of a continuous process of wonder, work and discovery, following the one before and anticipating the next. Ceramics has always seemed amazing to me, in part because into this creative method is inserted a capricious third party whose influence has to be resolved in ever changing ways. I often image the kiln as a sort of magic box that I put the things I make into, and which transforms them into things for which I can take very little credit.
I went into the Burlington Art Center’s collection with very little idea of what to expect and no idea of what sort of work I would choose. I decided to pick what I liked and figure out the whys afterwards. Reviewing my selections I have noticed two themes running through the choices. The first is an ‘opposites attract’ tendency in that most of what I chose has very little in common with what I make. These pots have a tenuous and superfluous relationship to the functionality of the objects, plenty of squares and sharp edges, unglazed and/or difficult to clean surfaces and a somber palette. They are inspiring to me in a personal way because they reveal avenues of questioning and exploration that I have so far missed and which resonate with me. Back to work, I think when I look at them.
The second theme I notice is an affirmation of a core principle I hold as a maker: that the work should be evolving. A former teacher of mine once said that when one encounters an art work, one should be asking where it is coming from and where it is going. As much as I love a concise and authoritative artistic statement, in terms of imagining a connection with a maker through their object, I usually prefer the sketch. This isn’t to say that these pots don’t stand as independent, successful objects. Rather I feel that when I see and handle them, I can imagine the makers being curious about the effect of recombining the elements, adjusting proportions, nudging the lines one way or another, changing the chemistry, extending the technique, wondering what would happen if… Whether they actually were engaged this way during the making of these pots is a bit beside the point. They have already reminded me to be excited for what is coming next.