by Jerome Block

Every four years in Germany, another Documenta, billed as the greatest exhibition of contemporary art, is unveiled, prompting commentary and signaling what is viewed as important and seminal in art for today’s world. This year under the curatorial direction of one Okwui Enwezor, (file that for future use in crossword puzzles or trivial pursuits) the impression I have gained from the reviews of the Platform in Kassel, Germany, is that it is a rather dull, heavily political and remarkably limited in the sense of including very few female artists, and having almost no painters among the 116 artists showing. Apparently, the masses of videos, installations, photographs, collections of debris, newspaper clippings and constructions all pointed to the war between the “haves” and “have nots” (read bad guys vs. good guys, or the west vs. the Third World). There is no mention of ceramics or ceramic artists.

Surprise? Not!

Actually ceramics could be spun or hyped as very political. The bowls or the pot could be a metaphor for the begging bowl of the millions of starving people who stand in long lines or heaving crowds for a scrap of leftovers from those nations of gourmands that are so powerful. The bowl or the vase could be a “vessel,” again commenting on the role of women forced by the male dominated cultures to be merely birthing “vessels” and nothing more. Even teapots reflect the voracious British empire indenturing much of Asia to plant tea plantations for the idle rich to have some tea with their cucumber sandwiches or being something to hide under their crocheted tea cozies. Fertile political riches indeed in clay and ceramics, but it hasn’t yet been seized open by Documenta.

Can you imagine how the art world would have changed if David Serrano had photographed his “Piss Christ” in a ceramic bowl rather than in glass? But I guess he could not have gotten the light to shine through in the right way. Pity.

Further reflecting a lack of respect, at the recent 2002 All Juried Media Exhibition curated by Ashley Emenegger at the Palos Verdes Art Center, not one ceramics piece was chosen to be included in the show — not a one. This show is in its way quite radical in its choices, as compared with Kassel, in that there is almost no political content (unless you include the somewhat tired sentimental piece called “Rachel Carson’s Song,” featuring a lot of broken egg shells painted black and some decaying branches festooned with what looked like Spanish moss). Further, there is nothing remotely beautiful about much of the work except for a drawing by Jennifer Cielo and a couple of small kimonos. Lastly, almost all the artists selected were women. In contrast, an adjacent exhibition at the Art Center, curated by Michelle DePuy Leavit, also a juried exhibition called “Small Treasures” fairly glistens with beauty, ceramics and even some male artists. Was this latter work art? Well the works were all small, the works had very low, even humbling pricing, and were at times flat out gorgeous — all features working against being high art. Pieces by Armstrong and Rawcliffe were distillations of years of sensibility and assured expression. Ann Wittels’ small pieces (not ceramics though) must have been great art because I could not begin to understand what she was getting at, but she puts it together so right. I don’t know what it would take to get ceramics into a better assessment by the movers and shakers of art opinion and approbation, but fortunately a characteristic of those who work with clay seems to be that they could care less. They push on trying new glazes on new and old shapes, talking about cones and expansions and biscuiting, taking more classes and workshops, getting a kick out of making those teapot handles, perhaps not even knowing when the next Documenta is coming and perhaps thinking that “Kassel” is the last name of that guy Howard who used to be on Monday Night Football and was a supporter of Ali. Well more power to them and perhaps leave it at that. But if one is working in a field that exhibited teapots from more than 300 artists at a single national show, one may never break the chains of craft.

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