December 19, 1993

CRAFTS; At the Newark Museum, the Unexpected

YOU can expect to find the unexpected in two shows at the Newark Museum. The diverse work of 68 artists in the 29th Ceramic National show ranges from comic or political statements to eccentric improvisations on traditional forms. A few, pieces reach peaks of elegant grace.

And spotlights in the Contemporary Craft Galley illuminate the tiny wildflowers that seem alive within the glass of Paul Stankard's paper weights. A close examination reveals minuscule words and imaginary creatures hidden down among the roots.

The ceramic exhibition, touring from the Everson Museum in Syracuse, is titled "Fiction, Function, Figuration." Although this theme serves as a poetic definition of multiple styles, it is unlikely that a single one of the numerous teapots in the show could fulfill its traditional function. Symbolic handles and spouts identify the rounded shapes as metaphors for utilitarian ceramics of the past; distortions signify the influence of contemporary art.

In the Everson show, the jurors pared down nearly 2,000 entries to a final selection of', 2 pieces. Although there are clear indications of the influence of recognized ceramists, few of them are represented here. An excellent installation allows each piece to be viewed individually.

Long after this show closes, viewer will very likely remember "Dumb Fist," by Joseph Mannino. This four-foot-tall clenched fist speaks of unfettered power and brutal assaults. Its crackle glaze, with the texture and tune of an alligator hide, gives the forth an abstract look from a distance. Close encounters reveal details of the gigantic fingers, and suddenly the fist becomes very frightening.

Nearby, "Dialogue." by Duane Brant, should entice potters, sculptors and yoga practitioners. The contours of three androgynous people were thrown on a potter's wheel and then roughly fastened together by pinching the wet clay (fingertip indentations are still visible). Only the hands and feet are carefully molded to reveal details like fingernails and toenails.

The surprise? All three are standing on their heads, with arms bent for support and toes pointing up to vie ceiling.

The prevalence of pigs in this show is puzzling. One case contains work by three artists who produced a total of five pigs -- in very different contexts. For "Dream of the Oak Tree," three piglets by Kevin L. Turner are climbing up a barren tree, clutching leafy branches between their jaws. Perhaps their worthy goal is the restoration rather than the destruction of nature.

Thomas W. McCanna's pig is attempting to stagger across a rocky landscape. This work is coated with a bubbly glaze of gold dots that imparts an unexpectedly elegant surface to the skin of this humble critter. On Jolyon Hofsted's tall pot, heads of a pig and a duck serve as handles.

"Pre-Dawn Attack Ceremonial Vessel," by Ron Artman, has the ominous aspect of as armored vehicle with sharp metal weapons jammed into the handles. Although this circular pot is made of stoneware, the entire surface appears enclosed in bolted-down plaques of metal. Only the boldest of warriors would dare to drink from such a vessel.

Douglas Baldwin's "Advanced Throwing" is a three-dimensional cartoon-strip depiction of a potter whose pot becomes so grossly oversized that it tips over and knocks him down. This amusing tale is related in nine miniature scenes

"Vase With Flowers" is not a vase at all, nor could it ever hold flowers. Ronald Baron stacked up a two-foot pile of collector plates and set them atop a teacup base. Variations in graduated size of the sacked plates produces the gracious contour of a Greek vase. A few have painted flowers on their delicately rippled edges, so the title does ring true.

And then there are the teapots. Any art historians who examined them might identify the influences of many "isms" borrowed from. the art world. Marck Cecula's "Fragment Teapot I" seems to have been sliced like a loaf of bread and then reassembled slightly askew, a Is Cubism.

"Winged Victory" is a Romantic teapot painted with an appealing image of a kneeling angel holding a laurel wreath on the front. Only the curious, who lean against the back wall of the gallery, will discover the psychic opposite of this purity that is hidden away on the reverse side of the put. Here is the portrait of a young man, holding a gun with his finger on the trigger. The artist, Cindy Kolodzicjski, provides no explanation.