During a weekend trip into the Twin Cities, after attending a lovely Pots in the Grass sale at the studio of Warren Mackenzie, Simon and I stopped at the Weisman Art Museum on the University of Minnesota campus to have a look at the current exhibition, A Culture of Pots: The 25th Anniversary of the St. Croix Valley Pottery Tour. The St. Croix tour is one of the largest in the United States, featuring some 50 ceramic artists across 7 host locations along the beautiful St. Croix River valley. Simon has work in the show, and many of my favorite makers did as well, so as you may have guessed, we were pretty giddy to go.

The Weisman, recognizably designed by Frank Gehry, curated a spectacular show highlighting both the host artists, and the diverse group of guest artists from across the globe who have had the honor of participating in the tour. The show was spread across two rooms. The first spotlighted the hosts,  with individual pedestals reserved for each artist. The other, sported a similar spread of pedestals with guest artists thoughtfully mingling with one another. The large, circular images flanking each space became windows to the rural potter's landscape, transporting the museum goer to the tour itself.

The pedestal surfaces were colored with bright primary reds, blues, and yellows. The color brightened up the space, adding some vibrancy to the room in contrast to the mostly muted tones of the pots. Simon suggested that the colors helped create a rhythm to the space to subtly guide you around the room. It was a bold decision, and on the whole I'd say a successful one. The one critique that I must express was how much the color reflected itself up onto the work above it. It was a distraction from the true surfaces of many of the pots.

It is worth noting how appreciative the Midwest seems to be when it comes to pottery. Through this exhibition, the Weisman is codifying the St. Croix tour and all of its participating artists as fine art makers. They sincerely recognize the pursuit of the contemporary studio potter–to create beautiful and useful objects that enrich the experience of their users.

Walking through the exhibition, steeped in the work; the hearts and souls of all of these extremely talented makers, I was overwhelmed with a deep sense of gratitude. As a young potter who is just beginning his journey down the firebrick road, I am grateful to even be peripherally associated with this community. This show represents years of work by each of the makers that compose it. Lifetimes of trial and error, good ideas and flops, epiphanies and dead ends, perseverance, passion, and play. I'm humbled by the dedication and beauty found spread across these colorful pedestals.

As a maker, all I want is to make something that engages me, which will later bring you some joy as you view, handle, or use it. Things that will sneak their way into your daily routine, whose presence is ever present, but never intrusive. Vessels that will hold things that you hold dear, and be gathered around by you and those close to you. I think I can confidently say that just about every artist in the show feels somewhat the same. Thank you, St. Croix potters for your hard work and dedication, and thank you Weisman Museum for recognizing them.

So with a full heart and inspired soul, I leave you with these words by Pamela Espeland which sums up the sentiment with perfection:

"...Pots like these have become part of our everyday lives. From them, we've learned to see a bit differently, set a table more deliberately, eat or drink more mindfully. We've felt the artist's fingers on the rim of a plate or the curve of a handle and noticed how a glaze can look like a painting. Maybe we hang out at the dinner table longer. It's amazing what a lump of clay can do, in the right hands."

Under the Maple Tree

I swing suspended under the maple tree,
My right side warmed by the setting sun.
Shadows are growing longer,
Blue bird songs are sung.

When I close my eyes I can see a bit better,
Throw my hands back to cradle my thoughts.
Relaxed into a quiet drowz
SMACK!
A mosquito's life was lost.

American Shoes

Independence Day, quite ironic.
Claiming no need for the world which supports us,
The legs of our gluttonous ranks.
Unacknowledged they go as the ignorance flows.
Sometimes it's hard to relate.

It is hard to relate.
It is easy to reject.
But, we have so much.
Right now I hear fireworks exploding outside my window.
Ever been to a place where the explosions aren't so fun to watch?

I guess there's a balance to be found.
Gratitude for the ups,
Consciousness of the downs.

Hate never healed a thing.
So when that resentment bubbles,
I'll notice it.
I'll acknowledge it.
And that's it.
It doesn't win, or fill my mouth with negative speech.
The control of my heart's within reach.

I'll be gentle with the words I choose,
For plenty a person outside of these states,
would  give it all up or line up in length,
to take a walk in my American shoes.

It has been about 1 month since I arrived here in Gresham, WI to begin my apprenticeship. As you can imagine, moving from a situation where I was living alone in a cabin in the Pacific Northwest, out to a house in rural Wisconsin with a family of 4, might come with some significant changes in lifestyle.

Wisconsin has surprised me with its brand of natural beauty. The landscape is lush with both coniferous and deciduous forests, full of wonderful lakes and rivers, and covered with endless seas of farmland crops. Without any mountains to impede the horizon, the sky seems to go on forever. If you stand in a large, open area it feels like the sky actually dips underneath you. Clouds race by faster than I've ever seen before. Sunsets are long and firey. Rainstorms can come and go quicker than you can get all of your pots brought back inside the studio. The mornings bring a chorus of bird melodies, and at dusk the fireflies paint the atmosphere with their bio-luminescent butt brushes. It is a big change from the dramatic landscape of the Pacific Northwest, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it, but I can honestly say that I am pleasantly surprised by the beauty that I am finding out here in the Dairyland.

For my apprenticeship, I owe Simon 30 hours of work per week in exchange for materials, room and board, kiln space, a $100/week stipend, and his mentorship. So far, most of my work hours have been spent processing wood for future firings. Other jobs have included staining walls, weed-wacking, sanding pots, cutting and palleting firebrick, etsy listing, and web design. I am trying to find balance between chores and studio time just like I would be if I were a full-time potter. I'm managing some time for exploration as well.

Probably the most challenging part* about moving out here, which really hasn't been bad, has been adapting to living with another family. I am the first of Simon's apprentices to live under the same roof as he and his. The reason being that they (and I) will be moving to Illinois sometime in the near future, so finding a place to live for just a couple of months would have been extremely difficult. If you're accustomed to living on your own, and not having to worry about the schedules, bedtimes, etc. of anyone else, dovetailing into a family dynamic can take some getting used to. Ubering home in the middle of the night still drunk from a concert, and stumbling around the kitchen while trying to make a snack is not something one would feel particularly comfortable doing when living with a family of 4. Luckily there's not much of a night life out here, so it isn't a problem. Despite the tricky circumstances and elevated stress levels from the move, Simon and his family have made an effort to make me feel welcome and comfortable and I am grateful for it.

It is a strange feeling to be land-locked. My whole life I've lived within an hour or so of the ocean, and if I were any further than that, I was in the mountains. I find comfort in the mountains. Not having them around does sting a bit. As far as snowboarding season goes...I guess we'll just have to see about that. But it is all good. Life is about embracing these changes, leaning into them, stepping forward with grace, and finding the beauty in what is right in front of us, because it really is quite abundant.

I came here to learn what it takes to be a successful woodfire potter; to work closely alongside Simon in order to broaden my perspectives and grow as an artist, just as the 16 apprentices who came before me did. I am already being challenged both within the studio and otherwise. I'm observing closely the way Simon runs things, asking many questions, and taking many notes. After one month, I am feeling energized and excited for the rest to come.

*Edit: The most challenging part is loving their two cats, but also being allergic to them.