Interviews with two representatives each of ten areas of applied and desing art on their own careers and the current state of profession | The artists talked to Hedvig Dvorszky and László Attila Márton
- How did you find your way to the area in which you became a well-known and recognised artist?
- In which of your works do you think you succeeded in realising the objectives you had set?
- What is the current situation and the future of your profession like? What are its opportunities?
The peculiarly Hungarian story of ceramic art, regarded as a curiosity in the international arena, ensued with the tragic Treaty of Trianon, which formally concluded World War I. The partitioning of the Kingdom of Hungary affected the country’s ceramic sector too: only the surface excavation of clay was possible in the area that constitutes Hungary today, and this type of clay was only suitable for brick, roof-tiles and pottery. The localities where fire clay could have been excavated were all left to the disannexed territories. Thus, a significant industry was built on low-fire pottery, on which ceramic art also developed. High quality works were already made at this stage, for example by artists such as István Gádor, Géza Gorka and Margit Kovács.
World War II wrecked the Hungarian ceramic industry, and everything had to be built up from square one. Then Hungary was weighed down by the cultural policy of the Soviets, for whom applied arts was synonymous with folk art. The situation improved somewhat after 1956, but fundamentally did not change. Ceramic factories used imported raw materials, outdated technologies and operated very inefficiently. The rebuilding of urban areas created a general demand for bricks and brick architecture flourished as opposed to concrete, which only had limited use.
At the start of my career, whenever I worked in a factory, I was interested in how the processes could be innovated, not only for the production of individual designs but overall. I gradually realised that clay is earth itself, and if I regard it as more than mere industrial raw material and I look at its role, formations and ‘behaviour’, I might be able to tap into the innermost relationship between man and nature, and I might be able to render it in visible form. Being a ceramic artist, I felt I had to examine the four elements – earth, water, fire and air – and it slowly dawned on me that living organisms from plants to humans are composed of the same four elements but in differently organised structures which had reached the form of the human being throughout the evolutionary process. Of course I was mainly driven by my curiosity to explore the morphological aspect of all this, but I could not disregard the study of the natural science aspects either. This is how I found my individual style, which is unusual in the history of ceramics. Right now I am working on moulding the traces of external and internal forces into visual form, especially through the deformations of the human body.
Interview conducted by Hedvig Dvorszky
Before I embarked upon my professional career, the strongest influences had come from two places, both of which were outside my formal education. One of these was the somewhat broader creative milieu with a focus on constructive tradition that formed around painter and graphic artists Janos Fajo. The other one was the International Ceramics Studio in Kecskemet led by ceramic artist Janos Probstner. The milieu, the creative freedom and the intensity inspired me incredibly in both places and provided me with an ideal environment to be absorbed in doing art. During my university years, two factory traineeships opened up new perspectives: the Alfold Porcelain Factory in Hodmezővasarhely, and the Korall Tiles Ltd. in Romhany. I was attracted to the factory, I was drawn to system-thinking and to how a large organisation operates. A little while later I began to work more closely with Korall Tiles Ltd, and I completed my degree project here in 2002. It was an extruded, heatable modular ceramic seating furniture system, a patented innovation.
In 2003, I met American ceramic artist and furnace-builder Frederick L. Olsen in the International Ceramic Studio. He later became my master and it was with his help that I learnt how to build a wood kiln and its firing technique. From this point onwards, my horizon broadened internationally and I primarily became familiar with Oriental, Japanese and American ceramic art. In 2005, I received an invitation for an international wood-fired symposium in Japan, where, for a short time, I had the opportunity to participate in the work of a Japanese ceramic manufacture that made Bizen ware (hard, reddish-brown, unglazed pottery fired in a wood-burning kiln). This experience slowly and fundamentally reshaped my way of thinking and was an absolute turning point. After the first culture shock, I discovered deeper and deeper connections between my own European, predominantly constructivist design and artistic background and the brightness, transparency and elemental character of the vehement, raw, direct and natural Japanese tradition. The foundations of my approach with its constructivist roots rooted in constructivism remained but it was lent a less rigid and more flexible and poetic quality. My ambition to meld the different sources of inspiration, which may first seem distant from and even irreconcilable with each other, into an integral and personal style pervades both my applied arts objects and my autonomous artworks.
Interview conducted by Hedvig Dvorszky