Objects as Theatre: Ceramics and Edmund de Waal
At some point I thought I'd struck upon an interesting idea - 'objects as theatre' . Why not strip away the actors completely, I thought. Why not create Mary Celeste type worlds in which all the action happens off stage! Or more precisely; worlds at which we arrive late - where the action has already taken place, leaving the objects to resonate with experienced drama!
And then I stumbled upon Edmund de Waal... What I love about his work (ceramics specifically because I've not read The Hare with Amber Eyes) is his understanding of the drama of objects. His work explores the relationship between 'things' - very often simple pots in varrying shades of white. Their composition is always poetic and often concerned as much with what is there as with what is not. What I mean is that they are structured in such a way that the silences, the blank spaces, are as important as the pots themselves. Silence is an interesting description actually because many of his ceramic filled vitrines feel as though they could be 'played', as if the pots are scored notes waiting to be interpreted and heard.
At some point I thought I'd struck upon an interesting idea - 'objects as theatre' . Why not strip away the actors completely, I thought. Why not create Mary Celeste type worlds in which all the action happens off stage! Or more precisely; worlds at which we arrive late - where the action has already taken place, leaving the objects to resonate with experienced drama!
And then I stumbled upon Edmund de Waal... What I love about his work (ceramics specifically because I've not read The Hare with Amber Eyes) is his understanding of the drama of objects. His work explores the relationship between 'things' - very often simple pots in varrying shades of white. Their composition is always poetic and often concerned as much with what is there as with what is not. What I mean is that they are structured in such a way that the silences, the blank spaces, are as important as the pots themselves. Silence is an interesting description actually because many of his ceramic filled vitrines feel as though they could be 'played', as if the pots are scored notes waiting to be interpreted and heard.
One of his largests vitrines is hidden in the roof of the V&A in London - you can see it from the lobby if you peer up and beyond the giant coloured chandelier. My first thought is that space must be as important in the display of his 'pieces' as it is in the structure and composition of the objects which make them. For me, this playfulness makes his vitrines as enjoyable as opening an old book to find a forgotten love letter or shopping list. They are each little worlds within worlds.
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