Octopus World (after), 2023
Octopus World (after), 2023, ceramic sculpture, stoneware, wood ash, wild clay, and oxide glaze, 10’’x10’’x10’’, photo credit: Michael Patten.
This pair of dinner bowls is the second iteration of an attempt to confront human consumption and material consumption within the medium of ceramics. The first realization was made in 2020 using a strontium carbonate glaze to achieve a textured surface on the mountains, and a rutile/cobalt glaze for blue oceans. These were the first ever glazes I mixed and I was quickly informed that strontium carbonate can be quite toxic–to be careful if using it on a functional object. I began to wonder… if I was using this material to form my landscapes, what sort of landscape was left by the extraction I indulged in? What sort of impact did this “toxic” material have? I slowly began to hear stories of the cobalt mined in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and the extraction of Rutile in Sierra Leone. I couldn’t be sure that these were the exact origins of my materials, but this uncertainty did not sit well. Simultaneously, I was becoming aware of the conditions often found in these mines and the history of mineral extraction in the global south. It no longer made sense for me to be eating out of earthly bowls made from these materials.
At this time I was inspired from a quote by the late Masanobu Fukuoka in his book Sowing Seeds in the Desert (2012).
“the money-sucking octopus economy. [...] Everything is pulled to the center with these eight legs. Although this action is carried out under the name of stimulating the regional economy of outlying areas, or maintaining regional culture, the wealth eventually accumulates in the center. [...] Money attracts more money, and it goes on and on. And what is this wealth being used for? It is used for establishing more centralized authority and strengthening armaments–more fuel for the gut of the octopus.”
My octopus followed in this way, a mythological creature filling its gut and expanding to a planetary scale.
In this iteration of the pair of earth bowls made in 2023, the mountains use a glaze which sources materials I gathered myself. Ash has long been used by many cultures in ceramic glazes and so I collect wood ash whenever I can from campfires and household fireplaces. Additionally, I gathered local clay from a small creek in Mont-Saint-Hilaire near Montreal. Lastly, a mineral mined by the corporation Covia in Havelock, Ontario. In full transparency, the oceans use the remainder of the original blue glaze (you can see the darker areas where it runs thin). It is nearly impossible to not consume when making art, the ceramicist’s pallet often consisting of materials from the earth. My goal here is to work towards a more reciprocal relationship. To acknowledge the origins of these materials, build some sort of relationship to their landscape, and reposition myself towards local materials–allowing these to shape my aesthetic and moral choices.