Here is a copy of my article from:

Ceramics Monthly v. 51 no. 6 (June/July/August 2003) p. 140, 142, 144

So you say you’d rather not have a revolution?

Sometimes a revolution can be a good thing. It may be frightening to think about if you believe in the status quo, but from where the GenX ceramics artist stands, it is an interesting prospect, full of opportunity and optimism, where we have everything to gain and nothing to lose. Common sense tells us that a certain percentage of those working within any field will rise to the top, and when modalities are obsolete, it is time to begin again with a new set of ideas and values. As always, the Darwinian rules are applicable.

A ceramic art revolution would involve a reorganization of ideas and a repositioning of ourselves as artists, so that we may embrace our destiny. However, there are a few problems. This new era is as yet undefined and is a subject of great speculation. Further more, as I was writing this statement, I could already hear a dissenter shouting, “I don’t want to read anymore of that esoteric, self-important jaw flappin’ in this magazine. I just want to see some good pots.”

My response to this would be: “Tough luck.” This magazine is about ceramics, all of it, the good, the bad and the ridiculous. Of course, ridiculousness is a matter open to debate. To some, theory is ridiculous; to others, ridiculous may be found in the concept of making pottery in the 21st century. In short, it seems we want all the benefits of a national ceramics forum without all the pain that the truth brings. We like information, but we don’t like the mirror. To evolve as an artist can be painful.

Quite frequently in ceramic art, the only place one can even hope to find healthy criticism is within the confines of academia; however, that system is highly variable, depending on which ivory tower you are peering down from. Art criticism requires us to think. It requires us to interpret meaning from the signifiers and materials that we choose to use. It prompts us to question what it is that we do, as well as its validity within cultural context. The doing part is much more fun. Why think? We just want to be in the flow, forget about the world and do our thing.

To further complicate matters, we presently have a broad range of theoretical and conceptual bases competing for space within our field. Depending on who you talk to, ceramics can be analytically critiqued from the scope of western art history, archaeology, ceramics technology, the history of studio pottery, social history, anthropology, ethnography or the study of material cultures, which attempts to include all of the above.

Which of these criteria is most appropriate for the critical analysis of ceramic objects? To me, they all are. In the past, in an effort to legitimize ourselves as artists in the eyes of the critics and art historians, we have attempted to justify the ceramic object within the context of 20th-century art making. In the end, we came up short. As Garth Clark noted in his 1998 essay “Between a Toilet and a Hard Place,” presented at the International Museum of Ceramic Art at Alfred University, many of the important ceramic works of the 20th century are sculptures by nonceramics artists, such as Marcel Duchamp’s ready-made urinal “Fountain,” 1917, and Meret Oppenheim’s fur-lined teacup “Object,” 1936.

Since the first pot was not an amphora created in Greece in 1200 B.C., why do we continue trying to legitimize ourselves within the western art historical paradigm? What we really need is our own paradigm. The history of world ceramics and the history of object making should be included in any analysis of current work in ceramics.
How the work of any age is defined depends greatly on the paradigm used as the basis for analysis. Since the 1950s, we have tried to squeeze within the philosophical boundaries of either Clement Greenberg and modernism, or Jean Baudrillard and postmodernism. Perhaps they had their own notions about the role of the handmade art object in our culture, but it was not an obvious part of their individual agendas.

If we can alter our paradigm of comparison, we can change the nature and the goals of the work, and thereby stand a better chance of success than we did in the 20th century. Our own self-image is the biggest obstacle that we face as ceramics artists in the 21st century. It is much easier just to keep quiet and not address any of these difficult questions. The distinct culture of ceramics makes that easy.

Things are nice and friendly and warm in the ceramics ghetto. We meet at the National Council on Education for the Ceramic Arts (NCECA) conference every year, talk about pots, look at slides, listen to panel discussions, have meals with friends, exchange a few mugs and generally feel good about what it is that we do. After all, we do speak a common language. Our audience is ourselves.

There is no vigorous system of criticism that establishes value or distinguishes good work from bad in ceramics. Things are comfortable, perhaps a little complacent and we are not really in any hurry to challenge any of our own assumptions, but at least everyone is working hard. After all, people have to work really hard to earn a living in this field, especially since what we make is not always highly valued by the culture we make it for.

The state of ceramics is further evidenced by a recent flyer for the “2002 Ceramic Guild Show” at California College of Arts and Crafts (CCAC) in Oakland, which cynically and nostalgically referred to the field as “the world’s most rewarding hobby.” Within the mainstream of contemporary art during the decade that was ruled by postmodernism, objects made from craft materials were quarantined to the category of craft and frequently could not be discussed as Art.

Throughout this time, many of us in the ceramics world continued as best we could, making work for our specialized audience, which consisted of mostly each other and a few collectors. We read our magazines, attended our national conferences, spoke our own language, all the while rebelliously producing work that was often shamelessly beautiful, decorative and sometimes functional; daringly holding on to the values that postmodernism had rejected, namely craftsmanship, quality and the role of the handmade art object in our culture.

The good news is that we made it through postmodernism and contrary to the thoughts of some in our field, craft is not dead. In terms of contemporary art, where we are now is anyone’s guess. Like it or not, we are in a new place.
Consequently, without beginning a dissertation on my theories about what comes next, I will attempt to define what is needed to ensure the potency of the coming revolution. We need an enhanced level of professional criticism within our field, a heightened awareness of the issues facing us as object makers in the 21st century and a raising of the bar in terms of the work that is held up as relevant within our genre. This will serve to improve the status of ceramic objects within the context of American culture, thereby increasing the value of what we create and the cultural validity of how we chose to spend our time. But these are just the first steps in our arduous journey.

Also worth noting are the ideas recently promulgated by Garth Johnson’s farcical Pottery Liberation Front (PLF) at Alfred University; for further information, see http://nyscc.alfred.edu/plf/home/home.html. I do not agree with everything that Johnson states in his manifesto for ceramic art in the new millennium; however, I do agree with his statement regarding the future of ceramic art in America: “A glorious kingdom awaits beyond our cloistered walls; we have only to claim it.”

Although I believe his case is well founded, I am not sold on his assessment of what is important. In my opinion, Johnson’s manifesto mirrors many of the sentiments in Garth Clark’s essay. I disagree-with the two Garths with regard to their speculative statements about the future of ceramic art. What the rules are and where ceramic art is headed are both still open to debate.

As for my solution, I am not suggesting a crusade within the art gallery system or a coup d’etat at Alfred, but rather a rethinking of our assumptions about what we do and why we do it. Where I do agree with my aforementioned brethren is that ceramic art is in dire need of a revolution. Think about it for a moment. When was the last time ceramics experienced a good hearty revolution? I am not speaking about an evolution, which has happened as a matter of course throughout history. I am speaking about a revolution in which the hierarchy of our paradigm experiences a sudden change in structure.

My best estimate would place our last revolution circa 1954. This is the year in which Peter Voulkos was appointed chairman of the ceramics department at what is now known at the Otis College of Art and Design. Voulkos’ time working in Los Angeles in the mid to late 1950s is seen by many as the pivotal moment in modern ceramic art history, because he single-handedly enabled ceramics to move out of the confines of craft (i.e., pottery) into the realm of abstract expressionist art. It was during this time that his work in clay began to be considered as valid by his peers within the field of contemporary sculpture, thereby paving the way for those who would follow.

With Voulkos’ legacy in mind, the time has come to recall the last 50 years of our evolution and–by considering what we have learned, experienced and hold to be true–move forward. Postmodernism has ensured that another singular entity, especially a macho male genius, will not emerge to transform our understanding of art. Rather, what we will experience next will be an amalgamation of all the experiences, successes and failures that our past has presented us. We will assimilate modernism and postmodernism, figure out what still holds up and toss out the rest. The remaining concepts will form the basis of a new era in ceramic art.
This transition is inevitable. The questions before us are: how quickly can we evolve and find our place within this new paradigm, and who will be our new leaders? I am certain Peter Voulkos did not decide in 1954 that he was going to pave the way for ceramics artists; he merely responded to the world around him and did the best work he could with what he knew at the time. He succeeded in his quest to discover new artistic territory, and he is remembered and revered for his contributions. Now is our chance to do the best we can with what we know, thereby-paving the way for the next generation of ceramists that are certain to follow.

I say bring on the revolution…but then again, I am a GenXer with nothing to lose.

The author California ceramist Dennis Stevens is the ceramics and glass technician at San Jose State University.