I posted earlier about the plans for this building and how my father had designed it. What I didn’t post at the time of the planning is that, because of neighborhood covenants and issues regarding the “buffer” we had to observe between a building and our property line, we had to move the site of the studio from one place to another and “flop” the plans.

Now I am nothing if not a stickler for detail, but this process of “flopping” or reversing the plans had me busy for several days. First, I had the plans copied, full-scale in reverse at a local shop that specializes in the printing plans for architects and engineers. Then, by hand, I cut and pasted ALL the architectural instructions and dimensions from the old plans to the newly reversed ones. Thank heavens for sharp X-acto knives and archival glue pens. I simply couldn’t ask my father to redraw these 12 pages (!!!) of plans.

These two snapshots will reveal the complexity of this task!

Once the building permits were approved and posted in mid-January, the foundation crew and the carpentry crew went to work. Within two to three weeks time, this is what we have:

View from the south front corner.

View from the back.

A view from the pottery to the storage area, and upstairs the jewelry studio.

A view of the front room which will serve as a small gallery and a place for my flat file storage.

The building is a spacious 1,260 sq. feet of usable space. You can see how many windows there are… now we wait for them to be delivered and installed. Once this is done, the building will be considered “dried in” and the installation of the electrical system can begin.

I’m musing that I’d much rather be waiting for THESE windows than the “Windows” operating system that used to be the software on my former employers’ desktops.
What a lucky AND grateful woman I am!
Happy New Year to all…

Growing up in the era and the place that I did, it was often hard to take oneself seriously as an artist. This was especially true for girls and young women. Many years later I learned that my “oppressions” could also be seen as my “liberation.” I often heard, “It’s okay for a girl to be smart, but just don’t act that way in front of boys. If you act too smart, you’ll have a hard time getting a husband.” And, it seemed that from day one, our training was aimed for that goal. On the other hand, if one were expected to “act stupid” and could be convincing, everyone was put off their expectations. No one expected you to achieve anything other than a good marriage, and it was somewhat easier to become what you wished to become. I was very fortunate to have parents who encouraged my interests in art and making. (Though, occasionally, they would ask if I shouldn’t get a public school teaching certificate, just in case I didn’t make it into the big time.) Likewise, I had some incredibly supportive teachers… my high school art teacher, Nancy Lee Stewart, was the one who really helped me believe I could do it. While no one was looking, I took all the art classes I could get from junior high onward, and finally ended up with an MFA in Printmaking and Art History… as well as a university teaching position AND a husband. (But THAT is another story, and not at all the traditional one.)

So, with the background struggle of trying to become a “serious” artist, I’ve always been a bit sensitive to the ways women artists have been portrayed in the mass media. Forget about the history of Western art, where they were always portrayed as the model or muse. I’m speaking of media that was/is contemporary to my own experience. When I began teaching my course, “Women in the Visual Arts” in 1980, I decided to begin a collection of images selected from the current media—magazines mostly—that continue in this theme of trivializing women as artists. A recent spate of images from a popular outdoorsy clothing retailer set me off again… so I went to my archive of 35mm slides and retrieved the past examples… and here I give to you, my favorites:

Never mind that there’s not fresh paint on her palette!

I guess she’ll just stand in the field all day, clutching her brushes.

Then, there was a series put forth by a cigarette manufacturer… portraying the woman artist, risking her life to make her art… er, um, smoke.

And a smartly dressed gal, apparently painting a portrait of her SUV!

Chief among the insults, of course, is the idea that we’re all just “dabblers.”

And, finally, the most hysterical of all:

So, if you’ll excuse me, I must go now to load my paintbox and easel into my Jaguar, lose 100 pounds, press my white linen outfit, pick up a hunky guy, and head to the beach to do some serious painting. Oh, yes, and I musn’t forget the gin.

One of my SCSU colleagues, would reply to this very often repeated scenario, “Look, let’s say you have a barn and inside there’s a pile of dung (word substitution here!)… and you want to move the dung out of the barn… and you do so, moving it teacup at a time. It takes you two months, and you labor and labor… and you will eventually get it out of the barn. However, it’s still going to be a pile of dung!” His emphasis would be placed on the “quality” of thought and the creative spirit that should be brought to an effort of expression from the outset, rather than the incomprehensible sense of labor.

I have always said that I believe one should “play” in a new medium for at least a hundred or more hours before trying to do something “intentional” with it. Through the play, you get to know, very well, the possibilities and the limitations of the set of materials. You eek out the techniques slowly, but surely.
You gain the confidence that if you do something the same way each time, you can count, more or less, on achieving the same or quite similar results. You learn that, often, the less you can actually control the medium at first, the better. Why? Because if you started with a medium that you know too well, say ballpoint pen or a pencil, you’d never get beyond the habits you’ve attached to those media from your countless hours of using them as a means to another form of expression (writing). So, it should actually be a GOOD feeling if you can’t control the medium AT ALL. That means you’ll end up respecting its inherent properties in a much healthier way than if you attempt to force it to do things it will not.

Of course, some of the most intriguing examples of artwork are those in which the artist has figured out how to make a particular medium defy its own nature. I think of Robert Longo’s use of graphite and chalk, and I think of Judy Chicago’s sculptural china paintings. I think of the art quilts, such as those by Michael James, I’ve seen that don’t even look like cloth. I think of Pilobolus and the human body and dance. I think of Shirley Verrett and her mezzo soprano voice. I think of Fellini and his films. In my opinion, the most effective works of art are those in which the medium/technique become INVISIBLE within the context of the “first blast of joyous perception.” When we see something by which we are stirred, don’t we first say, “WOW!” Then later, maybe only seconds later, we look to see how it might have been done?

But the sheer manipulation of a medium or material in an unusual way doesn’t make a significant work of art either. (Bummer!) Conquering the medium is only the beginning. Marrying the medium with the spirit, and with the idea, is the ultimate aim. (It’s like attending the performances of children’s orchestras.) The technique and interpretation may lacking, but the spirit is there. Or it’s like attempting a recipe in the kitchen (which, of course, is one of the highest of all art forms!) It can taste great, but have a terrible texture. It can have a beautiful presentation, but taste horrible. But if we think, that at one time or another, the great chefs of the world didn’t just roll up their sleeves and “play around” in the kitchen, without purposely setting out to make something delightful on first try, we are sadly mistaken.

PLAY. PLAY. PLAY. Apologize to no one for PLAYING. Downplay your efforts to NO ONE because it “felt too easy.” Do not slip into the mindset that because you are, more or less, self-directed in this effort, it is not meaningful activity or significant exploration. Discount your efforts to NO ONE because it just seemed like too much FUN.

[I dedicate this post to my friend, Todd Tinkham, who is having the first exhibition of his photographs next Sunday.]

Toshiko Takaezu

“You are not an artist simply because you paint or sculpt or make pots that cannot be used”… “An artist is a poet in his or her own medium. And when an artist produces a good piece, that work has mystery, an unsaid quality; it is alive.”

–Toshiko Takaezu
Ceramics Monthly, 1975

To read more about Takaezu and her life’s work read her NY Times obituary from last March.
Rest in peace dear poet.

Ochre Weedpot

TileTop Weed Pot

Golden RippleTop Pot

Not to mention the even more sculptural ones…

"Epicotyl #1"

White Basket

"Precarious Nest"

"Swash"

Earlier in the fall I was invited to participate in FRANK Gallery’s theme show titled, “Dining With Frank.” Invitees were asked to provide work that would have the theme of “food, kitchen, dining,” etc. In theory, I could have submitted anything, but I felt compelled to make utilitarian pieces for the table. In my early years of working with clay I made hundreds of things that could be used in the kitchen or at the table, so this challenge wasn’t a stretch for me… what WAS a challenge was to make the making INTERESTING! Here are some of the things that were included in the FRANK show:

Large Place Setting

Patterned Plates & Bowls

Bolte, Bolte & Napkin Ring

Very small condiment bowls...

Large Squiggle Platter

Large Platter, detail

Basically, I don’t do so many of the strictly utilitarian wares anymore because it’s just too boring to do the same thing over and over again. This is not to discount the efforts of my fellow clay artists who do make utilitarian things… I have many friends, whose work I greatly admire, and they seem to love what they do.

The work I did for the “Dining With Frank” show would be perfect for someone who collects individual, artful place settings, for the visual variety of a table setting… conversation pieces. But, puhlease… just don’t ask me to make a place setting for 4, 6, 8, or 12. I just don’t want to do it. I’ll just continue to make the things I want to make, and if they are utilitarian in the least, I’ll let you figure it out what do to with them.

Oh, yes, and by the way… I happen to think that a beautiful piece of ceramics that just sits on the shelf looking gorgeous has enough of a utilitarian purpose.

Wood, Bone, Gold Brooch, ©Anita Mills, 2011

Vintage Black Button Brooch, ©Anita Mills, 2011

Copperish Disk Brooch, ©Anita Mills, 2011

Green Ceramic Shard Brooch, ©Anita Mills, 2011

Rose & Pink Shard Brooch, ©Anita Mills, 2011

Wood & Lapis Lazuli Brooch, ©Anita Mills, 2011

Black and Blue Shard Brooch, ©Anita Mills, 2011

I could go on and on and on… but, I won’t!

"Multicolored Brooch"

"Three Bright Brooches"

The primary means of construction were hot glue (of course), plastic rivets made from “Pick Up Sticks,”
telephone wire, and lock ties. Literally, I made thousands of these and sold them at street fairs.

"Pink, Gray & Turquoise Pendant"

"Pink, Gray, and White Brooch"

"Red & Black Pendant & Earrings"

"Yellow, Red, Black and Gray Brooch"

These small exercises in design allowed me to hone my design sensibilities without the terror of wasting silver and gold. Now when I work in silver, I have a great deal more confidence in my efforts.

And finally, the plastic coup de grâce was a sculptural chair I created for the Duke Comprehensive Cancer Center’s annual benefit auction, “Take a Seat,” in the mid-90s. As you can see, I limited my plastic pieces to black, white, gray, and red for this one. Amazingly, the chair was auctioned. The person who bought it worked in industrial plastics. He supposedly donated it to some plastics museum in Europe as an example of the creative uses of plastic. Can you imagine? I wish I knew which one it was, but for your enjoyment, visit the plastic object collection of the Deutsches Kunststoff Museum.

"Sculptural Chair"

"Sculptural Chair" back side

"Sculptural Chair" back detail

Caroline Vaughan kindly made the photos above.

When, at last, I was forced to be rid of my fifteen tubs of plastic, I gave them all to Durham, NC, environmental artist Bryant Holsenbeck whom I knew would make the best possible use of them. Visit her website and you’ll know what I mean.

And thus ended my all consuming use of plastic in the studio. Except… I still have a few choice pieces that will occasionally make an appearance as a part of current projects.