Here we have gathered all our print catalogues from Project Network throughout the years. Please take the time to look through some of our artists’ inspiring and beautiful ceramic art works.
I am working on the notion of balance: a concept
that describes situations, where the forces present
are equal, and where none surpasses the others.
I create moments of balance that are frozen in
time and in motion at a precise instant.
What happens before or after is unpredictable.
This instant proposes constructions and
combinations of different modules that are not
fixed, they can change and adapt according to space.
Fiber 1 Bar
Today I ate breakfast at the train station, which I know wasn’t healthy, but I can’t pass up cake when I see it, and it was probably my last chance to get a coffee from Starbucks. I figured I deserved this, because I have eaten really healthy lately.
After traveling all day, I finally got to Guldagergaard, and we had our first meal together. We ate at 7:00 pm, and holy shit was I hungry. I have never eaten dinner that late, and all I could think about was food. When it was finally time to eat, we all sat down at this big long table where our plates and silverware were already set. We got served this massive Weight 122lbs F amount of rice and curry. I don’t know what was in it, but I think it was gluten and dairy free. It sounds like everything we make here will have to be that way. I usually feel less bloated not eating dairy anyway. I ate the entire plate in seconds. I felt like a stuffed mushroom. I think everything in the meal was fresh, so hopefully I wont feel bad when I wake up. It was rather strange to think about the fact that we are going to be eating together like this every night for the next six weeks. You could never do anything like measure out your food or chew it and spit it out, because everyone is watching you eat.
A porcelain house sits on my head.
I have eaten
the entire dining room set,
including the chandelier.
I moved on to the bedrooms and ate them too.
Each bed, each book and bedside lamp,
even the wardrobe and the lost sock that had
slid behind the dresser.
The rooms are empty,
my stomach is growling.
Guldagergaard has given me an extended opportunity to unravel ideas felt rather than known.
It’s in this unforeseeable room without walls that the work is allowed to manifest. A place without maps.
There’s a sense of celebration around my making and a feeling that what happens during this process comes from a collection of experiences I have carried with me from childhood.
Recognising that the history of ceramic vessels is grounded in both utilitarian objects and the decorative arts, I create sculptural forms inspired by ritual that invite viewer interaction. By using a combination of hand building and wheel throwing in contrast with mass production methods, my practice reflects the struggle between the fascination for the handmade and the appeal of the mass-produced.
Often referencing aspects of ritual, ceremony, and adornment, Haywood’s work explores our relationship with objects. Material and process is combined to create a non-verbal dialogue. Visual clues are generated from specific combinations of colour, form, and scale. Individual components evoke readings, which are multi-layered, and material qualities are intensified when viewed in relation to a range of contrasting physical traits.
Works are contradictory in nature, playful yet sombre, tactile but austere, familiar and unfamiliar. Function is suggested but never fully resolved. These ambiguities permit an open reading and allow Haywood to explore ways in which poetic structures can function visually.
My work, while informed by childhood experiences and personal attachment to Laurentian landscape, represents composite, manufactured, or imagined spaces. It transcribes disparate and intangible personal responses evoked by landscape and its loss – search for connectedness, personal resonance, solitude and separateness, fragility, longevity, fear, wonderment, and myth. I am also interested in pushing the limits of the media, allowing chance to exist through the firing process.
Some of them grow slowly.
Layer by layer.
Up and out.
Others grow with a scream.
Forcing itself up till it gets out and disappears.
Leaving only a shell.
The clay, like the doubt in my heart, curls around my fingers and twists in the kiln. I search for direction, but find no clear path. So I continue to ask and answer. This is my process.
The rejection of absoluteness within a singular piece aestheticizes a memory image in its irresolute aloofness. In the way a poem uses words that reference concrete objects, I use symbols that act as metaphor to enliven and solidify an abstract state of mind. I use identifiable and abstract imagery to function as symbols representing experiences of identity, loss, desire, anxiety, and memory.