Saving culture...

...or is it saving the earth?  Not sure, but the 'biosphere' seems to be the hot ticket term people know best, and sometimes care more about, after all, it is the sum of all ecosystems.  But what about culture?  As anthropologist Wade Davis puts it...'ethnosphere'.  By definition, perhaps it is sum of all cultural systems.  Davis says:

"...the sum total of all thoughts and intuitions, myths and beliefs, ideas and inspirations brought into being by the human consciousness since the dawn of our existence.  The ethnosphere is humanities greatest legacy.  It is the product of our dreams, the embodiment of our hopes, and the symbol of all that we have created as a wildly imaginative and creative species.

I am curious about all of this as I prepare for yet another journey into the Ecuadorian Amazon, in quest of recording, witnessing, and hopefully, understanding more fully the cultural diversity of indigenous people as seen through their art, in particular ceramics.  Sure, I care deeply about the biosphere, but honestly, I know far less about it than I probably should.  Beyond environmental issues relating to food and life, the biosphere has always been shrouded in a complex web of facts and ideas.  Whereas the ethnosphere seems closer to home for me.  After all, I have spent many years studying art and it's impact on people and culture, and more recently (if over twenty years can be considered more recent), I have been studying the ceramic works of women potters in the Amazon region of Ecuador (this being preceded by years of travel and study of indigenous potters from Mexico and further south, ending up in the Amazon).  So culture, or rather the study of such, is indeed closer to home for me, and something I cherish as a way to better understand others from more remote places and different backgrounds.

Culture, to me anyway, is the life blood of human thought and existence.  It is the thing that helps us understand how we, as humans, are both similar and different.  Varying ways to live, eat, love, laugh, cry, etc., all help underscore our diversity and similarities.  Watching potters make pots in the jungle can be a most humbling experience, especially knowing they have no formal art degrees, sophisticated materials or techniques.  Yet the products they produce are honest, direct, meaningful and relevant.  They help describe a people in a most unique manner, with little ego entering into the equation.  Awesome to witness, and wonderful to enjoy.  Pottery is my reason (or is it excuse) to be part of their lives.

More thoughts and information on the potters of the Amazon can be found in an article I have written with my friend and research partner Richard Burkett (photos by us and Nan Coffin) in the upcoming issue of Studio Potter magazine.  The theme of this next issue is 'Indigenous', and our contributions to this issue will hopefully add some dimension to the term and all it implies.  A digital sample can be found at:  http://issuu.com/studiopotter/docs/sp41_2web

young Andoan girl

painted mucawa

chicha storage containers

The roller coaster of life....

...sometimes things seem to move through our lives in ways that can't help but create new yardsticks for how we are doing and what's really important.  This past week was a good case in point.

A week doing a visiting artist workshop with my good friend Richard Burkett at Idyllwild in CA, between LA and San Diego, was great fun and a lot of pots were made.  A wonderful setting in the mountains, working with a fine group of people, alongside Sunshine Cobb being a definite highlight of the week.  But then, having just arrived back in SD, I received a phone call that my wife, Mary, had been in a car accident. Now before I proceed, I need to say that she is fine, thank God, even though the picture of the car (posted below) might have suggested otherwise.  A very serious accident indeed, and one leaving you to realize that it could have gone in a very different, and bad, direction.  A good car and seat belts proved to be the difference, and the EMT folks told her that two other similar accidents earlier in the week took the lives of each driver.

So, a week of making pots in the mountains of CA with friends, juxtaposed to realizing you almost lost your wife.  A roller coaster? Indeed.  And while there is surely a hierarchy to all of this in terms of what's more important, nonetheless they both serve to help us find balance in life.  Each allow us to focus and understand the importance of the other, in a very weird sort of way.  I find myself thinking often of how close I came to returning home alone, in a most terrible way.  And how much my life is tied to and dependent on another, in this case Mary.  How many pieces of pottery would it take to help me find that balance in my life if I were without her?  I fear there is not a clay pit wide enough or deep enough to fill the void.  Yet I still do use my work, and my hands in clay to help seek that balance in life.  Sometimes it is only to help solve a mystery within myself that I am pondering, and then again it might be to help soothe the roughness of a hard day.

My brother Ken (a catholic priest) told me that God must have more work for Mary on this earth to protect her from the accident.  This may be true, but for me, that work is to remain in my life (and others she knows as well), which might suggest she needs to be with us all for many years to come.  Yet the realization that nobody gets out of this life alive sort of begs the question from my brother's comment that God has more work for us therefore protecting us this way.  Who do you know that passed away with people saying well, 'they were done with their life's work'.  Sure, some live very long lives, but hey, there are still many reasons they should stay with us, right?

So, the roller coaster of life goes on.  I made pots with friends for a week in a great location, yet almost lost someone I love.  Go figure. The real scary thing about it all is knowing that I can never make enough art to compensate for that type of loss, and how little I am without her.  Now that's a real scary roller coaster to be on, for sure, yet wonderful knowing you can love that much.

Penland...

...an artists' community feeding the creative spirit and nourishing the soul....

Now I know there are many places to spend the summer days and nights working in a variety of materials and processes, and for the most part, these places are all indeed fine.  Craft locations where kindred spirits gather to improve their skills and bond with others in ways that are unlike any individual studios or schools.  But Penland, well, for anyone who has been there already knows, is a special place.  Nestled serenely in the North Carolina mountains with a vast array of crafts folks located in and around the region, Penland provides unimaginable creative stimuli and kinship.

It was my first time teaching there with my good friend and colleague Richard Burkett.  Together with a large group of clay students (and a great group it was!), in two weeks we made enough work to fire three salt kilns, two soda kilns, and the new large anagama/noborigama (a fine wood kiln that fired smoothly for three days into the night and morning air of the mountains).  A lot of pots, a lot of good pots, and a lot of human energy.

But what I was left with is the sense of community, something that seems to resonate on so many levels for those of us working in the craft mediums.  Surrounded by metals, wood, printmaking, bookbinding, blacksmithing, hat making, weaving, glass making and others, the community of artists seemed to feed off one another in a zen like manner that lifted the spirits and nurtured the souls.  While I figured it would be a productive and exciting two weeks, what I had not imagined was the way so many artists might come together with a common goal of creating a creative community that overlapped and blended in ways I do not see often in college and university art departments.  Maybe its because grades were not a factor, or maybe it was the interesting blend of young and old, new and experienced craftspeople all humming along with the common goal of learning from one another in such a wonderful and creative environment.  Whatever it was, it was special.

What to take away from it all is still in-process. How it affects my own studio work, or the work I do with students in a more formal, structured collegiate environment will be seen.  But it is sure to affect me and my work, and again, the sense of community, the creative spirit, and the high energy of effort, passion and togetherness will last a long time I am sure.

And the food...well, that's a whole other posting altogether...but the scales in my home tell me to 'lighten up', and not let the goal of looking like 'big Joe' take over.  But seriously, eating good, healthy food, sharing mealtime with strangers who soon became friends, is part of the Penland experience of living a life of craft and being part of the creative spirit.

Penland

firing the wood kiln

hot pots in the kiln

Big Joe

crazy clay people

Family, friends, foes and fears...

...now that's a mouthful, for sure!  But what am I wanting to say here?  Well, a few thoughts on them all.

I'm not really sure why this appeared, but it popped into my head a while ago and I have been mulling it over ever since.  It started having just returned from a trip to Italy with family (brothers, sister, etc.).  A great time, for sure, and while we are all very different, we are still very much the same. The differences on the surface are overshadowed by the underlying love and caring we all share for one another.  And this is true with all families, maybe(?), at least mine.  So my thoughts began with family, and then migrated to friends.

Now friends, or at least the many in my life that I call friends, are also people I might easily think of as family. So the natural connection from one to the other is seamless.  I also hope that my friends know how important they are to me, and like family, the closeness I feel makes it unnecessary to say so as it is (hopefully) evident in the relationships we have with one another. Family and friends seem to be the foundation of all relationships and teaches us the most about ourselves.

Now foes, that's the hard one.  I mean who wants to admit that they have enemies, or people they don't like, or don't like them?  But really now, does anyone know a person who is without a foe?... (well actually, I do).  And maybe, just maybe, they are more important to us than we realize...in some way?  After all, thinking of someone you do not care for might also provide us with an opportunity to look deeper into what it is we don't like about ourselves, or are missing altogether in someone else.  Or if another person does not care for us, similarly we might want to take note as to why they don't, and perhaps discover something about ourselves that might otherwise be overlooked, especially by the family and friends who easily cut us slack for almost anything we do or say.  Not sure, but trying to think of it in a constructive manner might allow foes to play an important role in helping us become the kind of person we want to be.

And lastly, fears...well, that touches them all.  Fear we might have for our family and friends, wishing the best yet seeing how life affects us all.  Sometimes it's not that easy, and while we relish the best days of our lives, being fully human requires that we also realize there are times when we struggle getting from one moment to the next.  But fear also touches our relationship with our foes.  Do we fear we may never reach them, or fear that they will never understand who we are? Or maybe fear we might become more like them, and less like the ones we value (i.e., family, friends).  Perhaps that's the greatest fear of all?

Maybe my ramblings here make no sense (in itself a fear), but the very idea of family, friends, foes and fear seem to play an important role in life, at least mine.  And in the end...all connected.  And honestly, after reflecting on the recent tragedies of the Oklahoma tornadoes, I think with family, friends foes and fears, it is only the foes that become irrelevant.

Human beings...

...made this stuff?  Something I kept thinking to myself while in Florence, Italy this past week.  Walking around seeing the architecture, sculptures and art on every corner, made years ago by both masters (like Michelangelo, Brunelleschi, etc.), and by so many other artists as well, unnamed, yet having created work that stops you in your tracks and leaves your eyes and mouth wide open.

So much art, and good stuff too.  And really, all made by humans, just like us.  Did they know they were creating objects that would dominate the cultural landscape in a way that keeps us making pilgrimages to see it in the real?  And honestly, forget for a moment the ones that live in the art history books (i.e., Michelangelo's 'David'), there is so much more to see, art made by unknown artists, small and large sculptures, paintings on ceilings and doorways, and architecture for the everyday person.

Now I must say that I have had this same thought over the years from previous trips made here and there, so it was not the epiphany that one might think.  But still, it underscores the theme I am working on here, and that is all of this great stuff, in places across the globe, was made by human beings.  Sort of intimidating, don't you think?  As example, the Duomo in Florence, with its incredible arch (http://smarthistory.khanacademy.org/brunelleschis-dome.html), together taking nearly 150 years to construct, provides evidence of both genius and patience.  Thinking back on a previous post of mine titled 'Working Slow', I am reminded of how important it is to be patient when making art.  It takes time!   

But back to the human being part of this post.  I find myself thinking about the art I see today, some of my own as well, and trying to frame it within a time and place, and wondering aloud if it has the backbone to withstand the test of time?  Sometimes being old, both in our lives and our art, is in itself not a bad thing...but the road to getting there is what wears us out.

So again, nearly 150 years to create the Duomo...the arch 16 years alone. Working slow?  You bet.  Being patient?  You bet.  And believing in your vision and having the courage to stick with it?  You bet!  There's a lesson in these walls of Florence, a lesson that has withstood the test of time, and keeps teaching us today.  As the British say...Keep Calm and Carry On!  Mainly though, keep making stuff, especially stuff that germinates from a place deep within, after all, we are only human beings searching for our voice in what we make, hoping it offers something meaningful to those who follow.

Duomo in Florence. Italy

Giotto's Bell Tower