All art works go through developmental processes, but ceramics is especially dramatic in its transition from wet clay lump to form. I see that as a parallel to the constantly changing city—the cranes and partially finished buildings looming over the peak-roofed houses point to a city in transition. Historically, clay has been an archive because it survives—even if broken, buried, discarded. Unless completely ground up, it preserves a record of its making. The record often reflects the concerns, habits, appearances, means of making a living, social structure etc. of the culture that made it. Because my city (which I love) is facing such dramatic transition and change, I want to make a record of those things I love about it. My pots form a highly selective visual record. I often include people—fellow citizens—to record their response to their surroundings, their activities, gestures, and relationships to each other. So if the city I love ends up at the bottom of a 40 floor tower, there will still be a record of the Vancouver that was.
Statement accompanying exhibition of some of these pots at CSA, Vancouver, December, 2017
Statement accompanying exhibition of some of these pots at CSA, Vancouver, December, 2017