Without trying to oversimplify what we do (we being architects, ceramists, metalsmiths, makers) the challenge is always this: to negotiate the distance between ourselves and the rest of the world. My own purpose-- what I am driven to do in my work-- is to dissolve that distance, whether it is physical or intellectual. If you've been in a James Turrell Skyspace, you know exactly what I am talking about. When inside, it is as if the sky is being pulled into the room with you and held there, right above you. It is the closest you will ever been to the moon, which hovers closely above your head, confronting you. The distance between you and the sky, once miles apart, has been erased.
I find myself drawn to such things because they attempt to compress that distance between the body and the material world. It's a strange distance-- this radius we keep, mediated by sight but perforated only by touch. I can't throw a vessel without repeatedly tracing its shape with my arms and hands. That connection is so clear, and the negotiation between myself and the material is so critical to the process.
I want my work to carry this awareness. I hope it continues to embody this optimism and challenge that separation between ourselves and the world.
Kielder Skyspace by James Turrell
