🎧 Embodied Narratives Michelle Solorzano

Appears in the November 2024 issue of Ceramics Monthly.

The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.

My work is a personal exploration of cultural identity, shaped by colonization, immigration, and assimilation. The Dominican Carnaval is central to this exploration, serving as both a vibrant celebration and a platform for confronting established norms. Through figurative ceramic sculptures, I aim to highlight the lasting impact of colonization on contemporary society while questioning its influence on how we perceive aesthetics. By weaving surreal narratives with Taíno symbolism, I share my immigrant experience, exploring the struggles of language, prejudice, and navigating dual identities. My work seeks to connect with those who share these experiences, humanizing the immigrant journey while illuminating the tension and fusion of Dominican and American cultures.

Pre-Building

In my practice, several tools are essential: a flexible ruler/measuring tape for measuring irregular or rounded forms, paddles of various sizes and shapes for altering the form, a soft silicone rib for smoothing, a serrated rib for scoring, a pointy knife for carving and cutting leather-hard clay, and an assortment of wooden and silicone tools for drawing and sculpting details (1).

I often work with reference materials, such as drawings or photographs that capture the person, animal, or object I’m sculpting. These references are integral in the initial stages of construction, where I focus closely on proportions. As the piece develops, I gradually allow myself to work more intuitively, loosening the reliance on these references. This balance between control and spontaneity leads to sculptures that are grounded in reality yet stylized and expressive.

When preparing to sculpt a bust, I gather images showing all angles—front, sides, and back—of the head. The more realism I aim for, the more closely I study these images. If the goal is a more stylized or abstract representation, the reference images serve as a guide for basic human proportions, while the intricate details are left to creative interpretation.

I often start by constructing a small maquette to establish the pose or overall form. The maquette will serve as a guide for shaping the base of the piece. You can also slice the maquette across if you need help understanding how to shape the cylinder as you are building up the bust (2, 3).

Construction Process 

I work in various scales, ranging from small maquettes to larger-than-life sculptures. For a life-sized bust, I often use myself as a reference to determine the proportions, using height as my primary unit of measurement. To begin, I roll out long, rectangular slabs of clay, each about ¼ inch (0.6 cm) thick. The key to achieving flexible slabs that can be shaped and pushed in or out is to thoroughly compress both sides using a silicone rib. When not in use, I keep the slabs covered in plastic to maintain their moisture. 

For the shoulders, I start by constructing an oval-shaped cylinder from a slab (4), paying attention to the desired width, depth, and height of the form. You can use your measuring tape to measure your own shoulders as a reference. Place the oval cylinder on a flat slab, trace the shape, and cut the base (5). After scoring and slipping the pieces together (6), I apply gentle downward pressure with my hands both on the inside and outside of the cylinder wall to secure the connection, reinforcing the bond with a coil along the inside. To improve airflow, I cut an opening in the center of the base, which will also serve as an access point if needed in the future. 

To shape the shoulders, I cut triangular darts from either side of the oval cylinder’s rim and score the pieces back together, forming a gentle curve (7). Coils are then used to close the top of the form, following the natural shape of the chest (8), while leaving a small opening at the top for the neck. 

To construct the chest and arms, use a wooden tool to mark the placement of the breasts and arms. Where the arm meets the chest, gently push the clay inward from the outside while supporting it from the inside to create a natural transition. A paddle may help gently pat the arms into place. For the breasts, cut a semi-circle along the bottom edge of each breast (9). Push from the inside wall to shape them into a smooth, teardrop form (10). Finally, seal the base of each breast with a coil and refine the shape as necessary for a seamless finish. 

For the neck, I create a tall cylinder that is one-third the width of the shoulders and set it aside to firm up. Once the neck is firm, I slip and score it into place (11, 12). Keep in mind that the neck has a slight tilt forward. 

I start the head with a cylinder, roughly half the width of the shoulders, and mark the general placement of facial features using a wooden tool. Note: The top of the head will extend beyond the initial cylinder. Starting from the bottom of the form, cut small triangular darts on either side of the head and gently press to define the jawline. To shape the chin, I cut a half-leaf-shaped dart underneath, creating a concave profile that separates the chin from the neck (13, 14). Next, turn the cylinder upside down to score and reattach the darts more easily. Once I’m satisfied with the facial features, I make precise cuts: one to divide the top and bottom lips, one down either side of the nose, and a semicircular cut below each eyelid. Using these cuts as guides, I push out the nose, brow bone, eyelids, cheekbones, and mouth from the inside of the cylinder, while supporting the form from the outside (15). Remember, we’re working from general to specific—patience is key at this stage. As the features develop, I use an additive technique to fill gaps left from cutting and pushing, refining the facial volumes once I can no longer adjust them from the inside (16). 

Once the head has firmed up, I carefully cut the base to fit onto the neck. You should experiment with different placements before attaching it securely (18). Since the top and back of the head are still open, you can access the head/neck attachment from the inside and compress well. Reinforce the connection with coils on the inside and outside, ensuring a smooth transition between the head and neck (19). If the head appears to be front-heavy, it’s a good idea to place a support underneath the chin. Ideally, I use clay for the support so that both the support and the sculpture shrink and dry at the same rate, reducing the risk of cracks. 

Then I address the hair. I begin by drawing lines on the form to define the hairline and the desired length of the hair (20). Next, I attach flat coils along the marked hairline (21). These coils are layered to build up the hair, creating an enclosed form that mimics the volume of the hair (22, 23). I often add holes within the hair for both functional and aesthetic purposes: they help the sculpture dry evenly and provide spaces for decorative elements, like flowers, to be added after firing (24). 

Finally, I refine the features and smooth surfaces with a damp paintbrush to achieve the desired finish. 

Surface Treatment 

After bisque firing my sculptures, I enhance their surfaces with a variety of treatments. I utilize cold finishes like spray paint, oil paint, and airbrushing, alongside traditional ceramic techniques using underglazes and glazes. For me, surface decoration is as essential as the form itself. I use color to engage the viewer visually while opening a window for a less lively conversation. 

I experiment with underglaze transfers by carving linoleum blocks and printing on rice paper, adding yet another layer of detail to the surfaces (25, see 27). Additionally, I explore visual language through intricate patterns, often hand drawn with pencil or created using vinyl stencils (26). These stencils resist the paint, allowing me to reveal vibrant colors beneath. 

After applying the underglaze, the piece undergoes a second firing, typically to cone 04. To create clean, sharp shapes, I employ tape as a resist (28). I then selectively apply glaze for a final firing between cone 04 and cone 5, depending on the chosen glazes. 

Many of the patterns I incorporate are inspired by Taíno symbology, particularly the Zemi, a deity revered for its supernatural powers. Each Zemi reflects the rich artistry and beliefs of my ancestors, much of which was tragically lost during colonization. I also draw inspiration from the naïve aesthetic of Caribbean art, which captures the essence of everyday life—animals, nature, and the human experience. Through this fusion, I aim to honor my heritage and reclaim narratives that have been untold or misrepresented. 

Clay and Beyond 

I have always been a maker, driven to create by any means necessary—whether working with recycled materials, found objects, fibers, or whatever my sculpture demands. Growing up, I admired the ingenuity within my community, where resourcefulness was a way of life. Carnaval, for instance, is a perfect example of this: artisans crafting intricate costumes and masks from discarded elements and recycled materials, turning nothing into something extraordinary. 

In bringing my sculptures to life, I often weave non-ceramic materials into the work. Found objects, wire, fibers, cow teeth, rope, and other carefully chosen elements are integrated to add symbolic depth to the narratives. These materials become extensions of the stories my sculptures tell, enriching their meaning and resonance. 

the author Michelle Solorzano is a figurative ceramic sculptor from the Dominican Republic, currently residing in California as a long-term artist in residence at the American Museum of Ceramic Arts. To learn more, follow her on Instagram: @michelleisolorzano or visit her website: michellesolorzano.com.