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• 1 2016-05-07T16:00:39-07:00 Breaking the Abstract Expressionist Narrative 79 plain 2016-05-25T17:10:28-07:00
  “Failure” is a term that is often linked to feelings of stigmatization or even fear. But what if it can be approached as a strategy that can be productively applied towards one's creative practice? Peter Voulkos was a contemporary American ceramist from the West Coast who applied such an approach towards his ceramics practice. While Voulkos may be widely regarded as  heroic figure in the ceramics field, close examination of his career trajectory reveals that this heroic notion can be traced back to the Cold war, a historic period where America was struggling to establish its national identity, as well as its cultural dominance over Europe and Asia.
  
  During the 1960s, America was in the middle of the Cold War. As the first all-American painting movement, Abstract Expressionism became a means for the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) to celebrate American identity. To this end, it was widely promoted as a nationalistic movement reflecting connotations of creativity and intellectual freedom. As a result, Abstract Expressionists like Jackson Pollock were framed as national heroes. In order to semiotically place the ceramist on the same heroic pedestal as the Abstract Expressionists, two key figures, namely art critic Rose Slivka and curator John Coplans, aimed to insert Voulkos’ work into the Abstract Expressionist narrative.
  
  
  
  
  In order to justify their association, Slivka and Coplans focused on ceramic pieces that are glazed in an Abstract Expressionistic style. Prominent examples of this are Voulkos' Untitled (1960), featured in Slivka’s 1961 article “The New Ceramic Presence” and Plate (1964), which was featured on the cover of Coplans’ exhibition catalog entitled “Abstract Expressionist Ceramics.” While Voulkos' work does share some overlaps with Abstract Expressionism, I argue that associating Voulkos’ entire ceramic oeuvre with Abstract Expressionism is problematic as it undermined the ability of the avant-garde West Coast Ceramists to establish an independent movement on their own terms. Today, Silvka and Coplans' efforts have resulted in a blanket narrative that obscures other key influences, such as Zen ceramics and American avant-garde music and dance. In other words, this exclusive, self-perpetuating "Abstract Expressonist hero" narrative has led to a crippling lack of criticality in regards to Voulkos scholarship.
  
  Although Slivka referred to Voulkos as an Abstract Expressionist at a later date, her aforementioned article corresponds closely to Harold Rosenberg’s reading of the Abstract Expressionists as “Action Painters.” At the core of her argument, she compares Voulkos’ working approach to clay, in which the material is treated as a surface to be painted on, to the gestural approach of the Post-War American painters. Despite its original persuasiveness, Slivka’s argument fails to acknowledge that brushing is one of the most common methods of glazing. Simpler, circular forms like Voulkos’ Untitled may easily fit into this idea, but a more sculpturally complex piece like Sevillanas (1959) does not. In her enthusiastic attempts to associate Voulkos with Action Painting, Slivka overemphasized the “slashes” and “drips” that the ceramist used on his clay surfaces, claiming that they served to “obliterate” its underlying sculptural form. The art critic’s claim is problematic as it downplayed the logical, methodical aspect of Voulkos' working process that made Sevillanas structurally possible in the first place. In addition, the critic's claim perpetuates traditional western hierarchies of art that attribute precedence to painting over clay. Rather than being respected as an autonomous sculptural material, clay was viewed as a supplementary medium that served as a preparatory modeling material for more prestigious mediums like bronze and marble.
  
  While Rose Slivka was the first art critic to associate Voulkos’ work with the Action Painters, the term “Abstract Expressionist Ceramics” was later coined by John Coplans, who curated a show of the same name at the University of California, Irvine in 1966. Coplan’s group show featured six West Coast ceramists, including Voulkos, whose plate was featured on the exhibition catalogue cover.​​ Like Slivka, Coplans’ eagerness to associate Voulkos’ with Abstract Expressionism suggests that the ceramist’s achievements owed a large debt to this association, thus undermining his revolutionary, medium-specific achievements. This association is further aggravated by the fact that Coplans' exhibition was held almost two decades after the height of Abstract Expressionism. In his attempts to associate Voulkos’ work with the prestige associated with Abstract Expressionism (which was more or less canonized by the late 1960s and therefore, more widely accepted by the American public) Coplans ended up reframing the works of the West Coast ceramists as derivatives of a decades-old painting movement.
  
  Although Voulkos had referred to himself as an Abstract Expressionist at one point, I argue that his most revolutionary works are those that transversed the boundaries of Abstract Expressionism. At the core of my thesis, I propose that it is more productive to see the ceramist as a revolutionary figure that engaged with failure and deconstruction in a medium specific way. To support my thesis, I will discuss Voulkos’ works in light of works by avant-garde composer John Cage and dancer Merce Cunningham, who were Voulkos’ colleagues at Black Mountain College in 1953. I will also discuss Voulkos’ works in relationship to Zen ceramics, such as Japanese Kintsugi ware and tea bowls by the famed Japanese potter Shoji Hamada, whom Voulkos met at the Archie Bray Foundation in Montana and served under as a temporary assistant.
  
  
• 1 2016-05-09T15:22:16-07:00 Anagama Wood Firing - Embracing Chance and the Controlled Accident. 3 plain 2016-05-25T17:23:33-07:00 Voulkos, along with Cage and Cunningham, was interested in Japanese Zen Buddhism. For example, Cunningham’s idea that no center existed on the stage was drawn from the Zen notion of non-hierarchy. Cage, on the other hand, was known for using chance as a means of detaching himself from his creative process. This notion of detachment and the controlled accident would foreshadow Voulkos’ eventual move towards anagama wood firing, a technique favored by Zen masters in the 16th century. Through the unpredictable nature of wood firing, Voulkos was able to strike a balance between chance and control in his ceramic pieces and thus, embrace unexpected creative possibilities.
  
  
  
  Ice Bucket (1993) is a stacked ceramic form that was wood fired in an anagama kiln. At first glance, it is easy to compare the spontaneous, non-hierarchical effect of its surface coloration to his earlier, Abstract Expressionist inspired pieces, such as Untitled (1960). However, the processes behind both pieces are radically different. While the latter exhibits the notion of clay as a surface to be painted on with colored glazes, the streaks of brown on Ice Bucket’s clay body was not acquired via glazes. In this case, a natural glaze is created when ashes from the wood used to stoke the kiln fire spontaneously land on the ceramic piece and fuses onto its surface.
  
  Accepting the lack of control over one’s creative process is a notion that goes against the working approach of Abstract Expressionist painters like Jackson Pollock. Unlike Voulkos’ wood fired pieces that relied largely upon chance to determine their surface coloration, Abstract Expressionist painters were able to choose the colors they wanted to work with, and thus exercise greater control over the visual outcome of their work. In other words, Abstract Expressionist painting may appear spontaneous and non-hierarchical, but it remains a product of the artist, who decisively imposes his or her will onto a blank canvas. On the other hand, because ash from the anagama kiln lands spontaneously onto a clay piece, the resultant colors do not directly reflect the will of the ceramist or that of the kiln manager.
  
  In addition, wood firing is a collaborative effort between the ceramist and the kiln-manager, unlike Abstract Expressionist painting, which tends to be an individualized process. In other words, the wood firing technique can be read as the antithesis of Abstract Expressionist painting, where a highly-skilled so-called genius artist is solely responsible for the outcome of his work. By letting go of control, the ceramist was able to transcend his own ego and thus, open his mind to unforeseen possibilities.
  
  This notion of transcending oneself draws parallels with the spiritual teachings of Zen Buddhist philosophy, such as detachment. For example, Japanese Zen tea masters would often compare the non-hierarchical surface coloration of wood firing to natural scenery. As Ice Bucket lacks obvious elements that draw the eye, the viewer is invited to allow his or her gaze to wander freely over the clay body, in a contemplative state of mind akin to meditation.
  
  Although wood firing may be unpredictable in nature, a kiln manager is able to exert a measure of control over the process by monitoring multiple factors such as the temperature of the kiln or direction of the flames inside it. Despite this, is generally not the intention of the kiln manager to attain perfect control over the process. Instead, he or she often seeks to maximise the serendipitous effects offered by the firing process. This careful balance of chance and control resonates with Cage’s explorative approach towards his avant-garde music compositions, such as 4’ 33,” a performance that involves a singer at a piano, both of which remain silent. Instead, sounds from the audience comprise the piece. In this case, Cage had no control over the actions of the audience members, who are ultimately responsible for creating the “music” in the piece.
  
  By applying the Zen notion of chance to his work, Voulkos, like Cage and Cunningham, grew to trust the unexpected pathways that his creative practice led him. Rather than be restricted by the fear of failing to meet a self-imposed set of restrictive expectations, Voulkos experienced a paradigm shift in his working approach that motivated him to explore the infinite alchemical possibilities offered by the clay medium.