Susannah Israel: Asolas, 2020

Susannah Israel: Asolas, 2020

The ASOLAS series is all about life in quarantine. I live alone, so when California went into lockdown, I was severed completely from my loved ones, community and resources. Total isolation was deeply exhausting. In the frustration and worry of the first months, I wrote in my notebook: “Time to reach deep down for clarity and focus.” I found what I was looking for in my studio. Discipline follows process; for clay artists, our process is a very physical practice. Our work cycles timed by the natural properties of clay, and we must pay attention moment by moment. These are also the foundations of spiritual practice.

The first piece is a seated figure reading a book, gaze focused and thoughtful, holding a cup of coffee. “Reading” is the first in the series because immersing myself in books was a source of great solace during lockdown.The book bears an illuminated letter “Q” for quarantine. A sleeping cat sprawls luxuriously across the table, belly against the book.

Like the figure in “Writing” I review my work at dawn, coffee in hand. Why do we so often write at night? is it working in silence and darkness? Neurologists tell us that the brain does its filing while we dream, so that our mental desks are clear when we awaken. Here the manuscript also has an illuminated “Q”. The coffee cup tilts in the dsitacted figure’s hands, and the cat plays on a stack of books. The title of the bottom book is Dave Hickey’s Four Essays On Beauty.

The figure in “Painting” holds a sleeping cat and a paintbrush, in the moment of finishing a canvas on a table easel. The painting is shown as three abstract bands of color, reflecting back onto the painter’s torso. I love to paint, for the sheer pleasure of it. I use found materials and recycled canvases so I can work freely. Everything I know about painting comes from glazing my ceramics with a brush. In this sculpture, there is a sense of delight and exuberance, from the dripping paint jars to the faint smile on the face.

Before I begin a sculpture, I make a maquette, and before the maquette, I make dozens of sketches. My notebook is a capture net for my ideas, filled with notes and drawings, and the maquette is equally important. I can see in advance what is working, and even better, what needs to change. I made the model for “Writing” with the cat on the floor, a book on the table, and a wineglass and bottle. This seemed too crowded. I refined and winnowed the elements, placing the cat on the books and removing the bottle, to improve the clarity of the composition.

The maquette for “Painting” made it clear that the hand holding the coffee distracts from the gesture of the hand with the paintbrush. Another important insight about the final composition came from realizing that such an enormous clay table was an unwieldy and inherently flawed element. I decided that the real function of the table and stool was to display the sculptural elements. So I got myself a jigsaw and, with much trial and error, constructed them in wood. Painted white, these structures take the place of a pedestal, presenting but not interfering with the image.

Asolas means alone, especially in the sense of undertaking a task or journey. To give my series a sense of solitude and a mood of austerity, I used unglazed terracotta clay to unify the pieces. The clay is a beautiful terracotta sculpture mix developed by Laguna Clay, called Mission Red. It fires to Cone 5 and has tremendous green strength. I contruct my work with large coils, often adding handbuilt and wheel-thrown elements. As a sculptor who was raised on the potter’s wheel, I work with hollow forms so that I can shape the walls from both inside and outside when building.

Terracotta is my chosen material for the warmth and rich color and the honesty of the natural surface. In history it is the everyday, common clay of Haniwa, Nok, and Etruscan work. Ancient traditions among North American tribes using red clay endure today. Clay artists in the Visayas say that red clay, dug straight from the ground, gives its spirit to the work. I find it equally beautiful alone or with color. To create the mood of the Asolas series, I restrained my use of color, but it crept into “Painting.” Making the paint jars on the wheel, pouring slip into the wet forms and letting it drip was too enticing to resist.

Artists around the world and across time have been our culture’s recordkeepers. The Asolas series is how I responded to the coronavirus shutdown: with a sculptural record of my year in quarantine. Artmaking was my solace and my survival.

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