The Light in the Kiva: Ceramics in the Shadows was inspired by my three-month artist residency with The Helene Wurlitzer Foundation of New Mexico. This excerpt from the book recalls my time in Taos:
“Winter was in full swing when I arrived in January, I stocked up with 125 pounds of clay and warmed up by digging my hands into a bag of porcelain. I went about my clay work, hand-building on the kitchen table, as the snow fell over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains surrounding me. Gradually a collection of sculptures, in the transient fragile stages of dryness, filled my casita. The kiln firing of these pieces would wait. The dried clay’s natural finish, a beautiful earthy texture, would be preserved in my photographs.
I started using the kitchen table for picture sessions where the morning window light would come to rest. But as the pieces grew larger, I looked to the kiva fireplace as a photo studio. One late afternoon I placed a large porcelain piece on the banco (a bench-like area at the base of the fireplace), I noticed the sunlight filtering in through the front casita window. The fireplace was aglow with a flame of light. From that moment on, each day I waited for the sun to arrive. When the first ray of late afternoon light touched the edge of the banco, the photo session would begin.
As the phantom flame moved across the fireplace from one side to the other, I joined in a dance with the sun, moving the piece in unison with the light. With just a slight change of angle or twist of the piece, a new form would emerge in the shadows, creating endless compositions. It seemed unreal that so many different views could come from just once piece. Using a simple digital camera I sketched with the light for hours until the sunlight disappeared.”
(The Light in the Kiva was made possible with the support from the Regional Arts Commission of St. Louis.)
Available for commissions and exhibits.
“Winter was in full swing when I arrived in January, I stocked up with 125 pounds of clay and warmed up by digging my hands into a bag of porcelain. I went about my clay work, hand-building on the kitchen table, as the snow fell over the Sangre de Cristo Mountains surrounding me. Gradually a collection of sculptures, in the transient fragile stages of dryness, filled my casita. The kiln firing of these pieces would wait. The dried clay’s natural finish, a beautiful earthy texture, would be preserved in my photographs.
I started using the kitchen table for picture sessions where the morning window light would come to rest. But as the pieces grew larger, I looked to the kiva fireplace as a photo studio. One late afternoon I placed a large porcelain piece on the banco (a bench-like area at the base of the fireplace), I noticed the sunlight filtering in through the front casita window. The fireplace was aglow with a flame of light. From that moment on, each day I waited for the sun to arrive. When the first ray of late afternoon light touched the edge of the banco, the photo session would begin.
As the phantom flame moved across the fireplace from one side to the other, I joined in a dance with the sun, moving the piece in unison with the light. With just a slight change of angle or twist of the piece, a new form would emerge in the shadows, creating endless compositions. It seemed unreal that so many different views could come from just once piece. Using a simple digital camera I sketched with the light for hours until the sunlight disappeared.”
(The Light in the Kiva was made possible with the support from the Regional Arts Commission of St. Louis.)
Available for commissions and exhibits.
