Kiyoshi Hasegawa looking at some works at Florida Craftsmen. He would refuse to look at bad works and insist in leaving at once.
I did some counting and found out this is my 9th NCECA in 11 years. Compared to the early years, I did much less running around town/ conference room, trying to see every exhibition/ pot possible, trying to listen to every lecture/ demo possible. I don't even try to meet up with friends.
I'm contented with watching the simultaneous demo for hours, without worrying I might miss something somewhere else.
I only went to a handful of exhibitions this year. This one - "Don Reitz in Tampa" made the deepest impression. I never understand Don's pot, but I love watching the way he work. It's like watching children play. They're not trying to break the rules to impress anyone. There is no rule in their mind to begin with. Born in 1929, Don is recognized as one of the most important and influential ceramic artists of this century. Here's his Artist Statement which catch my thought.
- "When I work I think a lot. Mostly it's not about that which is in front of me. That action is generally a spontaneous response. I think about who is forming whom at this moment. Lately, due in part to the passing of my dear friends and heroes, I have been thinking about time. It is the greatest gift of all, yet we take it for granted. This gift of time, what shall I do with it? How much time is there? Will I waste it by worrying about the RULES, yesterday's idea, or about laborious, extraneous techniques before I need them? I choose not to.
Over the years, time has allowed me to manipulate my forms and surfaces with some degree of innate intelligence and personal satisfaction. Time, an essential ingredient in firing., hardens and colors the clay, but also gives me time to think and look inward.
Time has enabled me to bring to my work a personal uniqueness, a clarification of purpose. These works serve as a bridge which allows me to move freely from one reality to another. In the interface I am free of convention, opinion, and burdensome history. My work becomes a personal iconography enabling me to visualize and organize my information. My marks are there in the clay, my signature."
I came back from Tampa, lost my voice and my cat, which make me think and look inward.