Rick Irwin
Ceramic Sculpture
Chumana
Pondering
Infatuation
Chochmingwu (from side)
Untitled
All Wrapped Up
Untitled
Clay is a medium like no other. When working I hope to reach the point where consciousness leaves judgment behind and I trust my inner self completely.
Clay can be stretched, compressed, twisted and torn to match the image I hold in my imagination. Due to the fluidity of the clay there is a constant battle between maintaining the structure of the piece while still allowing the piece to be manipulated toward my vision. Often this battle takes the piece in a direction different from my original image. It is important to me that the clay is allowed to speak and I have learned to give into the form the clay wants to take as it often leads to the unexpected. I want to preserve the spontaneity of form that encourages the unexpected. With clay, the unexpected is my constant companion. The clay remembers every touch I make and I try to leave evidence of the creation process within the piece. The resulting sculpture mimics my original intent, but the final form always differs from my original vision.
During the firing process the clay moves and shrinks sometimes cracking to reveal layers beneath, exposing it organic nature. I see these not as imperfections, but rather the clay showing its true nature and the tortuous process of manipulation and temperature extremes it has been through. I feel that the tracks of the process should be left exposed and celebrated.
I’m often asked what inspired a particular work and I seldom have a satisfactory answer. I have also been asked to name my pieces. However, my hope is to somehow engage and visually connect with the viewer in such a way that my inspiration and nomenclature becomes unimportant.
I never tire of the places clay takes you, the satisfaction of watching a piece develop during the forming process, the anticipation of opening the kiln to see the finished piece for the first time, and the warm feeling when someone actually likes a piece enough to take it home.
Art is a funny thing. Some folks like a sunset to look like a sunset – and sometimes I do too – but mostly I want surprise, and to see that sunset in a way never seen before. It should evoke curiosity, and be interesting e
I grew up in Amarillo, Texas and developed an early interest in art and ceramics, influenced by visits to galleries during childhood trips to New Mexico. My education has been varied, but has never included any training in the fine arts. I attended medical school in Dallas, studied marine biology in Florida, and optometry in Houston. I built an optometric practice in Austin, but always hoped to someday be able to pursue my interest in ceramics.
Twelve years ago, true to my history of ignoring the need for experience before jumping in headfirst, I purchased a wheel, slab-roller, extruder, kiln, 500 pounds of clay, and a dozen books. From the beginning I gravitated toward hand-building due to the great versatility of form it offers.
True to form, my work is unfocused and all over the place, never functional, somewhat sculptural, and hopefully inspirational.