A mixed bag of objects after five weeks in Tajimi
Elizabeth Gan
How did you get into pottery?
I picked up pottery in 2014 because I wanted to learn a new skill. It was a confusing period in my life. I had just returned from France, after a stint as an artist's assistant, and was not sure what to do next. I tried out various roles in the arts, to figure out what I saw myself doing in the industry, and this gave me time to pursue ceramics quite feverishly. I suppose the intensity of my learning process and the visible improvements (because of being involved with the material consistently) spurred me on.
What made you fall in love with the medium?
I reckon it's in my temperament to take to any kind of activities that aligns itself to nature's rhythms. I wake when the sun is up and can't function too well when night falls. It is unfathomable to me how night owls do it.
When I messed with clay for the first time two years ago, I remember my excitement at this fascinating alchemy - so many processes involved, too many time-honed techniques and understanding to hone, yet still so much left to chance! I cannot be sure what love means, but, maybe it is about not feeling dulled by the work involved.
Where, and with whom, have you trained?
I started my first lesson under Mr Lim Kim Hui at Ceramic House in 2014. After advancing to the wheel for a couple of months, I felt a little stuck and wasn't sure what kind of improvements I should work towards. Sometime in November 2014, I began exploring the possibilities of furthering my studies overseas. I initially wanted to head to Jingdezhen or Hangzhou in China. However, I soon learnt of two Singaporeans who had gone to the same residency in Japan. It surprised me to find that the Japanese residency was not as expensive as I had imagined - in fact, it was more affordable than doing a residency in Jingdezhen! The enthusiastic reviews about the sensei and the space also gave me confidence to do it.
I took on a contractual job for a couple of months, in order to save up for five weeks in Spring 2015 under the tutelage of Setsuro Shibata at Home of Clay Arts (HO-CA). At the ceramics residency space set up by the artist and former educator at Tajimi City Pottery Design and Technical Centre (a school I would have enrolled in if I were competent in the Japanese language), I was exposed to a world where ceramics was a norm rather than the exception. It became clearer to me why ceramics continues to be preceived as a hobbyist medium in Singapore. I saw the areas we could improve in - as a community and as an industry - as well as possible roles I could work in if I pursued this professionally.
After five weeks flew by, the sensei and I managed to work out a second residency - six weeks in the autumn. Before I left, he also gave me some instructions for my personal practice in Singapore, which fed into what I learnt that autumn. I returned from my second residency in December 2015, and am now setting up my own studio.
What was the most important thing you learnt in Japan?
The main difference between working in Japan and in Singapore, for me, is my approach of time.
Singapore, being such a small island and full of opportunities, gives one unreasonable expectations of how much can be achieved within a given period of time. In addition, there are family obligations and social pressure - catching up with friends, attending weddings, getting enough poorly paying freelance jobs to sustain the most basic of a city's lifestyle, etc.. My approach towards studio practice here is almost militant. I choose to rent a studio space only on days that I can afford to use the space for the entire day, and I work on only items I know I can finish within the same day. While this has trained me to work efficiently, it hardly allowed me to work freely, nor be open to making mistakes because of the opportunity cost, of 'wasting time' not being 'productive'.
In Japan, my sole responsibility was to be sensitive to what I was working on. I was consistently reminded to give all the time that each process required, in order to understand the potential of what it could be about. Sensei never once asked me to work in quantity. There was no goal such as making x works by a deadline. But he often stressed that I needed to slow down to understand what the materials demands of us, in order to truly bring out the beauty/possibilities of what we have on hand.
What are the differences between the Japanese traditional ways of working with ceramics, and the more contemporary methods in the west or Singapore?
There is a deep respect for tradition and crafts in Japan. It is perfectly respectable and admirable for a ceramicist to be continuing tradition in Japan. However, this is not the case in Singapore. Not because local ceramicists frown upon tradition, but because any local artist pursuing 'traditional' arts is simply not attractive to the larger public's imagination, unless it is a case of nostalgia or recontextualising the form under 'contemporary art', as seen in the case of the Awaken the Dragon Kiln Festival.
Ceramics has fallen off the radar of art in the west for a while now. I would attribute this to the 'functionality' of ceramics for most parts. The Japanese do not see functionality as antagonistic to 'fine art', which western art modernism took an issue with. Today, art as we know it in the west is always about doing what no one else has done before. The execution is not as pertinent as the idea. I dare say this is something which no self-respecting Japanese ceramicist would propose.
What is interesting is that there is a crop of younger generation ceramicists who, for better or worse, did not experience the typical 'apprenticeship' system that did exist in Singapore. We have begun to see ceramics leaning on 'design' (a complementary field in functionality), another means of recontextualisation, in order to break the shackles of ceramics as a 'traditional' art form.
What inspires you?
I'm not sure. Maybe sleep? I work best when I am well-rested and have a lot of time to my own thoughts. I do not have things like sketchbook or ideas board. It is only necessary to have a lot of headspace, to let my thoughts move as they wish... When I work in the studio, I feel comfortable to allow anything that has run through my head previously to take form when it feels right. I enjoy my work better when I am not bogged down by preconceived ideas of what I ought to do.
Having said that, i find walking and swimming immensely helpful to ruminate on random s***.
The main difference between working in Japan and in Singapore, for me, is my approach of time.
Singapore, being such a small island and full of opportunities, gives one unreasonable expectations of how much can be achieved within a given period of time. In addition, there are family obligations and social pressure - catching up with friends, attending weddings, getting enough poorly paying freelance jobs to sustain the most basic of a city's lifestyle, etc.. My approach towards studio practice here is almost militant. I choose to rent a studio space only on days that I can afford to use the space for the entire day, and I work on only items I know I can finish within the same day. While this has trained me to work efficiently, it hardly allowed me to work freely, nor be open to making mistakes because of the opportunity cost, of 'wasting time' not being 'productive'.
In Japan, my sole responsibility was to be sensitive to what I was working on. I was consistently reminded to give all the time that each process required, in order to understand the potential of what it could be about. Sensei never once asked me to work in quantity. There was no goal such as making x works by a deadline. But he often stressed that I needed to slow down to understand what the materials demands of us, in order to truly bring out the beauty/possibilities of what we have on hand.
What are the differences between the Japanese traditional ways of working with ceramics, and the more contemporary methods in the west or Singapore?
There is a deep respect for tradition and crafts in Japan. It is perfectly respectable and admirable for a ceramicist to be continuing tradition in Japan. However, this is not the case in Singapore. Not because local ceramicists frown upon tradition, but because any local artist pursuing 'traditional' arts is simply not attractive to the larger public's imagination, unless it is a case of nostalgia or recontextualising the form under 'contemporary art', as seen in the case of the Awaken the Dragon Kiln Festival.
Ceramics has fallen off the radar of art in the west for a while now. I would attribute this to the 'functionality' of ceramics for most parts. The Japanese do not see functionality as antagonistic to 'fine art', which western art modernism took an issue with. Today, art as we know it in the west is always about doing what no one else has done before. The execution is not as pertinent as the idea. I dare say this is something which no self-respecting Japanese ceramicist would propose.
What is interesting is that there is a crop of younger generation ceramicists who, for better or worse, did not experience the typical 'apprenticeship' system that did exist in Singapore. We have begun to see ceramics leaning on 'design' (a complementary field in functionality), another means of recontextualisation, in order to break the shackles of ceramics as a 'traditional' art form.
What inspires you?
I'm not sure. Maybe sleep? I work best when I am well-rested and have a lot of time to my own thoughts. I do not have things like sketchbook or ideas board. It is only necessary to have a lot of headspace, to let my thoughts move as they wish... When I work in the studio, I feel comfortable to allow anything that has run through my head previously to take form when it feels right. I enjoy my work better when I am not bogged down by preconceived ideas of what I ought to do.
Having said that, i find walking and swimming immensely helpful to ruminate on random s***.
What is your working process like?
My preferred working routine is to wake at 7am each day, go for a morning swim, have breakfast, then be in the studio by 9am and work until it seems right to call it a day. What happens in the studio? It cannot be dictated.
What is one misconception about ceramics/pottery that you would like to correct?
That it has been done to death. I think the ceramics knife is an excellent example of craftsmanship and material understanding.
Does the movie Ghost make you cringe?
Haha. I have never watched it, though everyone mentions this!
Who are the ceramicists you admire?
Lucie Rie for her elegance and Shinichi Sadawa for his freedom.
Possible to tell us more about the studio you hope to set up?
I have considered setting up an artists-led school (I take to Black Mountain College very much) for a while, mainly because of my personal discomfort with formal education systems. It was a lot of money for so much stress and not much learnt. The only thing obtained was a certificate that has opened doors to formal employment.
What does it mean to be educated? I think it is the feeling of having deep knowledge in something worth imparting. I finally felt a semblance of being educated way only after I sought guidance for specific skills from those whose work I follow and admire.
So, for a start, aside from developing my own skills in ceramics and hopefully a line of work to be sold commercially, I am looking forward to having an artist or two who believe in art education provide courses on materials-based skills for a start.
What next, for you, as an artist?
To be sustainable.
My preferred working routine is to wake at 7am each day, go for a morning swim, have breakfast, then be in the studio by 9am and work until it seems right to call it a day. What happens in the studio? It cannot be dictated.
What is one misconception about ceramics/pottery that you would like to correct?
That it has been done to death. I think the ceramics knife is an excellent example of craftsmanship and material understanding.
Does the movie Ghost make you cringe?
Haha. I have never watched it, though everyone mentions this!
Who are the ceramicists you admire?
Lucie Rie for her elegance and Shinichi Sadawa for his freedom.
Possible to tell us more about the studio you hope to set up?
I have considered setting up an artists-led school (I take to Black Mountain College very much) for a while, mainly because of my personal discomfort with formal education systems. It was a lot of money for so much stress and not much learnt. The only thing obtained was a certificate that has opened doors to formal employment.
What does it mean to be educated? I think it is the feeling of having deep knowledge in something worth imparting. I finally felt a semblance of being educated way only after I sought guidance for specific skills from those whose work I follow and admire.
So, for a start, aside from developing my own skills in ceramics and hopefully a line of work to be sold commercially, I am looking forward to having an artist or two who believe in art education provide courses on materials-based skills for a start.
What next, for you, as an artist?
To be sustainable.
Interview by Clara Chow
Photographs by Elizabeth Gan
Photographs by Elizabeth Gan
Elizabeth Gan is a potter and art educator. She has recently returned from a residency under the mentorship of Setsuro SHIBATA 節 郎柴田 (Japan), and is in the process of setting up her own studio. Doubling up as an education space, her studio will offer classes focusing on the interface between art and craftwork. She currently teaches at Ceramic House.
