Castle Ceetch

Already a highly aesthetic and suggestive object.

Already a highly aesthetic and suggestive object.

Castle Ceetch is one of my favourites from the ESW edition of the Repair Shop, not just because of the final sculpture but also because of how well it was made. The small and delicate ceramic salter Ms Glover brought in was already very suggestive in itself. It was clearly hand made and had been given an almost organic shape by its maker, but the broken off top, with its uneven jagged edges, to me at least, turned it into a ruined tower on the top of a lonely hill, overlooking a dark, brooding forest. A very romantic object. But it also held several other associations, to tourist trinkets, handicraft, beloved kitsch and memories of travels and places. I wanted to turn the salter into this romantic kitschy tower, but without changing it in any way, as it was almost perfect as it was. The solution was to create a setting, or a pedestal, that would suggest just those associations to other people to.

You can almost hear the sqeeking of the bats living in the tower.

You can almost hear the squeaking of the bats living in the tower.

When I say I particularly liked the way this piece was made, I really mean that the collaboration with the assistant worked well, because the shaping of the clay was all up to Cecily Hughes, one of the ECA students who helped me for a few days each. Any time you delegate part of your work, what you hope for is that those helping you understand and share your vision, not that they follow a set of precise technical instructions. In this specific case I saw immediately that Cecily “got” what I wanted to happen, both on the level of cultural meanings and associations, and as a language of forms and shapes. That she wasn’t an expert with ceramics was then absolutely no problem, since the image we had in our head, the sculpture we were working towards, was the same.

You could still keep crushed pepper and salt in the courtyards.

You could still keep crushed pepper and salt in the courtyards.

The instructions I was giving Cecily while she was working then, could be aimed at helping with craft knowledge and design tips, but that would lead to the result we both already agreed upon. Because of this, I could leave her mostly to it, after an initial discussion, and then a short more technical briefing once she got her hands into it and hit the first obstacles. I think this way of working is the most satisfying for both artist and assistant, apart from also leading to the best results. The artist (or in other jobs, the manager) doesn’t want to spend time micro-managing details, at least that’s the way it should be, and the assistant surely doesn’t want someone looking over their shoulder all the time, but rather someone who encourages and supports when needed. Successful micro-managing is impossible anyway, since there is no technical language so precise that it can exactly describe and define what you want to someone who doesn’t share your vision. You can try but you will only get frustrated. Also, it assumes that you always knows best, wish is hogwash of course. Even if you might have more experience and skills in a specific technical area, if it is not your own hands doing the job, your task is to give the one actually doing the job the instructions and tips that they need to fulfil the task.

The small details is what makes it in the end.

The small details is what makes it in the end.

Object no. 39

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