The Journal of Australian Ceramics Vol 50 No 2 July 2011

Sandy Lockwood
Fifty Australian Stories at
the Edge of the World
Paul Campbell-Allen poses a question
It is not often one can enter a room with examples of work from over fifty of the upper echelon
of Australia's wood-firing ceramic artists. Openings are really only an opportunity to taste and it is
impossible to appreciate the full depth of expression when balancing a glass of wine and engaged in
conversation. Gems tend to be overlooked. One thing that came across clearly is that ceramic artists
are, on the whole, hopeless at writing about their own work. Artist's statements ranged from the
wildly metaphysical to bland technical descriptions of firing cycles - both pretty well unintelligible. I am
reminded of Elvis Costello's remark that 'writing about music is like dancing about architecture.' The
same could be said of writing about ceramics.
Nevertheless, as an outsider, I am going to attempt a few off-the-cuff observations, not about the
techniques, about which I know only a little, but about the impact of the works as they presented.
The first issue I have is one of scale and context. After spending the previous day at the MONA, I
cannot be surprised by big. The trouble with big, particularly in a fairly confined space, is that it just
hits you in the face then becomes part of the background. If Robert Barron's anything-but-soft, cooked
pillow or Graeme Wilkie's box monoliths were placed in an open field, or, conversely, in a very small
room, the impact would be radically different. No doubt they are limited by kiln size, but in my view
none of the large pieces were anywhere big enough to be convincing and ended up falling between
two stools.
72 THE JOURNAL OF AUSTRALIAN CERAMICS JULY 2011