Art In My View: DIRTY HANDS

We've all done it, if only as children to craft a memento for our dear mothers. Working with clay is a primal, sensual, messy endeavor which can have a wonderful outcome.

by young Sean Davis circa 1990

And hilariously, we all wished we were potters in 1990, thanks to Hollywood.

But more seriously, working with clay is as old as the dawn of humans, and amazingly, an ancient ceramic fertility figure from 27,000-20,000 BC was unearthed in the Czech Republic. A figure like this would not exactly be revered in today's society, but at that time, reproducing was everything.

The Venus of Dolni Vestonice

Ceramic arts evolved with the Egyptians, Mesopotamians, and Greeks, for not only idolatry, but utility.

Egyptian vase, 5,000-3,000 BC

Mesopotamian prayer figure, 2,600 BC

Greek amphora, 520 BC

China was the first to develop and refine the use of fine porcelain clay.

Song Dynasty, 960-1279

Ming Dynasty, 1572-1620

The original North Americans produced interesting ceramic pieces prior to the arrival of Columbus.

from Mexico

from the American Southwest

The English became obsessed with porcelain in the 19th century, taking delicacy to its limits.

Utility was the word at that time as America was expanding westward.

But for me, my love affair with ceramics began in the 1970's, wandering through hippy craft fairs, and spending hours browsing through discount seconds pottery at Laguna Beach's Pottery Shack on Pacific Coast Highway.

In 1979, feminist artist Judy Chicago exhibited the most massive and unusual use of ceramics for a fine art project that I have ever seen. The piece,The Dinner Party, took years and multitudes of women to produce. It was a massive table setting honoring women from both mythology and history. Thirty nine place settings graced a triangular table that was 48 feet per side, resting upon a tile floor of 999 tiles, each honoring a woman of history. At its debut showing in San Francisco, there was a line of people out the door of the museum waiting to view the installation. When I was finally able to view it, the beauty and holiness of the installation was almost overwhelming.

Shortly thereafter, in 1981, Bay Area ceramic sculptor Robert Arneson (1930-1992), confirmed his irreverent reputation when he delivered his commissioned piece to the city of San Francisco in memory of assassinated mayor George Moscone. Arneson's favorite subject was himself though. He remains one of my favorites.

I do have a small collection of ceramics, but oh, if I only had the space and funds, I would be patronizing the studios of some of these local ceramic artists.