Just as quiet at Kettle's Yard, a peaceful calmness in the former home of Jim (Former curator of the Tate in the '20's and '30's) and Helen Ede. A Gormley piece stood at the further end of what is an engaging series of spaces originally constructed from four cottages, and the view of the Gormley with it's sharp edges, slightly softened edges flaking with rust, seemed incongruous: a working sketch of a life size figure, inconclusive and silent, crude and modernist amid the softness of flowing spaces, the dusty whites and creams. Much delight by other visitors - the feel of St Ives, the pebbles and plants, the frames in dark wood around thick dollops of paint.
Just as silent is Edmund De Waal's 'for Saanredam', 2011, exhibited as part of 'Artists for Kettle's Yard', a fundraiser for the gallery this Spring. Still life: instant appeal to those who like their art straight up; an icon of domesticity: shelves, on which cylinders are arranged, in such a way; ceramicists appreciate the very subtle tones and resonances of palest green celadons, the simplicity of form. The white-on-white is so St Ives, also is a long-standing academic reference to the mastery of painting. The proportion of vessels to shelves, the interplay of spaces internal and external; rhythm, simplicity of form and tone all dominant of references to the language of functional ware are long erased. The contemplation of history washed away in the sensory capacity of a very sensuous and luxurious material, porcelain. The idea of contemplation and meditation, an Eastern philosophy, evokes the roots of porcelain, it doesn't always fit in with bombarded lifestyles today - but art in the home can provide that space, becoming larger that its physical self, as a doorway through which the mind can walk through. And De Waal may fit that purpose admirably, and maybe more attractively than his installation at the V&A, high above our heads, inaccessible but just as desirable.
I had to watch the Wedding - how could I miss seeing the dress? The fairytale carraige... the romance (for those of us not yet cynical), the remoteness from our everyday lives. There's a remoteness about De Wall's work too - even when presented with the work on the wall, as opposed to over our heads, to enjoy the cool touch of porcelain, to explore the forms within the work, of course, isn't possible in a gallery setting - that is only afforded to those who own it. It seems odd, to me: to be deprived of picking up objects that have a history of being picked up, handled, used... what is it about ceramics that is now relegated to glass boxes, and shelves?
