The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.
Ceramics Monthly: How do you develop the forms and surfaces of your work? Are they made simultaneously or is one a response to the other?
Jason Schiedel: Form and surface develop in tandem with each other, evolving my aesthetic proclivities through practical necessity. I slip cast my work, modeling the forms in clay with ribs and templates before producing
molds.
I use slip casting to create unique multiples, beginning every cast with a distinctive application of colored slip. Painting on the interior of the mold is like creating a tattoo from within. I build a composition in reverse and then fill the mold
with slip to fortify the cast. When the mold is drained and the work emerges, color is magically embedded in a thin veneer and is polished smooth to the touch after firing.
Mold making and slip casting enable me to cultivate paradox in the work. Molds erase the quality of the hand and satisfy my desire for precision, but I also crave spontaneity and improvisation. The marriage of a painterly casting technique with the
deliberation of mold making produces vessels that have an emerging presence, as if they are glimpsed in the process of becoming. Like siblings, works from the same mold are related but different: no two castings are identical.
I don’t really consider the surface as a surface per se; rather it is the inside worn on the outside, the interior fashioned into a garment, as a skin. I summon a transitional identity through casting, which is subject to change from vessel to vessel.
CM: What role does color play in your work?
JS: Simply put, color structures feeling.
Every time I stare into a blank mold I reconsider how the piece wants to feel and, through color, channel a different perspective from what came before. This is the most challenging and exhilarating part of my practice. I can never predict the outcome
with any certainty; ultimately I just have to dive in, uncovering new relationships through the process of casting. At the best of times, I’m so immersed in color that I get lost.
Color is deeply political. It questions the limits of what a pot can contain. How much information can it hold? Does the vessel have space for contradiction? Sometimes (when I find the courage to see it through) the thought that something will never
work is just a harbinger of a breakthrough. This consecrates my belief that we all contain multitudes. Just as everything that’s happened is always with us, color helps me revisit a form, reshuffle the deck, and uncover a different perspective.
Color is intimately tied to celebration and resistance. It helps me recognize the boundaries within myself, challenges my taste, and beckons me to expand. I’m attracted to intensely saturated color—the brighter the better. Color is a divining
rod tuning me into other frequencies and modes of being. It brings the heat, ensuring that the work won’t be discreet. Color claims your attention. It makes vessels sing from the shelf and dance on the table, welcoming you to join in.
We understand your email address is private. You will receive emails and newsletters from Ceramic Arts Network. We will never share your information except as outlined in our privacy policy. You can unsubscribe at any time.
You have read of of your complimentary articles for the month.
For unlimited access to Ceramics Monthly premium content, subscribe right now for as low as $4.85/month.
We understand your email address is private. You will receive emails and newsletters from Ceramic Arts Network. We will never share your information except as outlined in our privacy policy. You can unsubscribe at any time.
Subscribe to Ceramics Monthly
The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.
Ceramics Monthly: How do you develop the forms and surfaces of your work? Are they made simultaneously or is one a response to the other?
Jason Schiedel: Form and surface develop in tandem with each other, evolving my aesthetic proclivities through practical necessity. I slip cast my work, modeling the forms in clay with ribs and templates before producing molds.
I use slip casting to create unique multiples, beginning every cast with a distinctive application of colored slip. Painting on the interior of the mold is like creating a tattoo from within. I build a composition in reverse and then fill the mold with slip to fortify the cast. When the mold is drained and the work emerges, color is magically embedded in a thin veneer and is polished smooth to the touch after firing.
Mold making and slip casting enable me to cultivate paradox in the work. Molds erase the quality of the hand and satisfy my desire for precision, but I also crave spontaneity and improvisation. The marriage of a painterly casting technique with the deliberation of mold making produces vessels that have an emerging presence, as if they are glimpsed in the process of becoming. Like siblings, works from the same mold are related but different: no two castings are identical.
CM: What role does color play in your work?
JS: Simply put, color structures feeling.
Every time I stare into a blank mold I reconsider how the piece wants to feel and, through color, channel a different perspective from what came before. This is the most challenging and exhilarating part of my practice. I can never predict the outcome with any certainty; ultimately I just have to dive in, uncovering new relationships through the process of casting. At the best of times, I’m so immersed in color that I get lost.
Color is deeply political. It questions the limits of what a pot can contain. How much information can it hold? Does the vessel have space for contradiction? Sometimes (when I find the courage to see it through) the thought that something will never work is just a harbinger of a breakthrough. This consecrates my belief that we all contain multitudes. Just as everything that’s happened is always with us, color helps me revisit a form, reshuffle the deck, and uncover a different perspective.
Color is intimately tied to celebration and resistance. It helps me recognize the boundaries within myself, challenges my taste, and beckons me to expand. I’m attracted to intensely saturated color—the brighter the better. Color is a divining rod tuning me into other frequencies and modes of being. It brings the heat, ensuring that the work won’t be discreet. Color claims your attention. It makes vessels sing from the shelf and dance on the table, welcoming you to join in.
Unfamiliar with any terms in this article? Browse our glossary of pottery terms!
Click the cover image to return to the Table of Contents