Jennifer Hawthorn

I am a ceramic artist whose work includes both performative and object orientated outcomes and processes. 

My practice has always been informed by an attempt to be physically involved with the clay. Previously this has manifested itself by hand-building figures that reflect the human body. I used differing approaches from using the hand as a surface to build on, to creating large scale sculpture which abstracted parts of human anatomy. 

The involuntary, unconscious reactions of the viewer have fascinated me since my undergraduate studies in Cardiff, where I used installation art to argue that certain elements within a given environment will trigger the unconscious and cause the viewer to be more aware of reality,

During my time at the Royal College of Art, I have had the opportunity to expand my making vocabulary. I have experimented with the forms and outcomes. I believe this enables me to explore this relationship in a more engaged and empathetic manner. The act of manipulating clay is now centred within my practice to satisfy a need to be more immersed in the making process. Using film, I capture performative gestures, which exist alongside the physical clay outcomes.

Within the process of creating the performative gestures that are now central to my work, I explore the relationship between myself and the clay; the weight of the clay, and how it forces my body to do certain things. I create simple movements, such as standing or dropping the clay, and focus on the small subtle ways in which the surface changes – caused by my touch, gravity, and the way the clay sticks in certain places. I do this in order to emphasise the moment between me, the artist, and the material; and the complexity of this relationship.

I create situations, in which I physically exert myself, to make the viewer feel empathy; drawing on work incorporated into my recent dissertation, about how the spectator in art is often made to pay attention through the use of human struggle. I have studied the work of Elaine Scarry, 'To have pain is to have certainty; to hear about pain is to have doubt'. This argument proposes that, in order to ensure a greater engagement from the spectator, artists must ensure their work generates a level of pain – to give them a chance to feel empathy towards the subject. I discovered that through working with a large amount of clay, and exerting myself, I could elicit feelings of empathy from the viewer.

Through manipulation, the surface of the clay can be made to look like animal hide, scar tissue or old skin. The forms are often corporeal, retaining the shape of my shoulders, or a moment when my limbs have reached out; the clay is a way for me to leave physical traces. 

To expand and develop my performative vocabulary, I have been studying the Japanese dance form of Butoh, which emerged after the trauma of WWII, and is heavily influenced by German expressionism. It is a deeply meditative practice that requires intense focus on the body. This exploration has allowed me to learn more about moving my body, while expanding the ways I can interact with clay. Particularly, Butoh has enabled me to develop my focus on the way my body is moving with the clay in the moment.

The performative gestures in my work are both central and meaningful, and the reason I create them is to see the effect of intuitive actions on the clay. The objects I leave behind are predominantly unfired, creating something that contradicts itself, by being both ephemeral and enduringly valuable. 

I intend my work to evoke feelings of empathy, in order for the viewer to interact with the work further, by exposing my physical struggle with clay. People can empathise with tiredness and heavy objects. The resulting film and clay remnants of each piece have equal weight, and they speak to each other when displaying them, because the film explains the journey of the object and illustrates the human involvement; showing how my body is distorted by the clay. The raw clay object in turn demonstrates the effect my body has had on the clay.