The New Rome

I've always rued the fact that the USA modeled itself on Rome - blood, conquest, fraticide, wars, macho shows of power - instead of on, say, the Minoans who, from the evidence, were nature-loving, friendly, equal rights types (until we decode their language and find out some horrible truth). But Rome it is, and right now there's a big exhibit on the subject at the Constitution Center in Philadelphia. Like most of the exhibits I've seen there it's well researched, carefully presented, and under-attended. I was impressed by the offerings: books owned by Benjamin Franklin and John Adams, matching tortuous slave collars - one from the 1st century, one from the 18th, relics from Pompeii, including a huddled plaster body cast to give an all too human feel for the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 ce. I think the most intriguing classical reach was a silver tea service with a cream pitcher in the shape of an upside down Roman helmet.

The foundation story of the USA is interesting - much more David and Goliath than Romulus and Remus (thank God) but we'd be a whole different country without Rome - just as Rome would be nowhere without Greece and the Etruscans. The 'founding fathers' were for the most part educated, patrician men who identified with the ruling classes in the Roman Republic - like them they were landowners in an agricultural society, strong-willed men who prized character and rights for 'all men' - a category that rings hollow from our perspective as it left out women and people without property, not to mention, of course, slaves. When the new little republic created its icons in the late 18th century it looked to Rome: Busts of George Washington and Benjamin Franklin draped in togas, their faces serious and full of dignity in the strong, wizened Republican Roman model,  our great American eagle  -
yes a native species, but Rome used an eagle for its standard too.

The easiest and most obvious place to see the influence on Rome on American life and iconography is in architecture. As I walked out of the (modern) Constitution Center and headed home through the historical center of the city I passed endless examples of neo-classicism - the Second National Bank modeled on the Parthenon via Rome, an obelisk and a gravestone with draped figure in bas-relief, pediments and columns on the doors of colonial-era townhouses, Corinthian columns on Old Pine Street church and my local bank. You don't have to live in the 18th century to see Rome in your life - your bank probably has those columns too. Just as they did for the 'new' Republic, those columns, pediments, and sober forms speak of character, virtue, freedom from tyranny, and trust.

Smaller Spaces

I'm especially intrigued by smaller galleries - what they're showing, of course, but also how they decide what to show and how they survive. Here in Philadelphia I'm surrounded by small, courageous, vital galleries. Old City, the next neighborhood over from mine, is the heartland of small art spaces with the newest and latest, but there are others scattered around, like seeds carried a little further by the wind. In the round of Ceramics exhibitions motivated by the recent NCECA Conference, several of these small galleries are hosting interesting exhibits. A new one to me was SubOcto on Alter Street, an artspace in a small artist-owned building with rental art studios, where, until April 25, the one-man show is a tribute to Val Cushing, the legendary ceramics master from Alfred University.  Broad tables of metal and wood built by Andrew Jevremovic, the sculptor-owner, showcase Cushing's work perfectly, allowing the simple, powerful pieces to communicate the functional nature of the work while also presiding as small-scale works of monumental sculpture. I was taken by the details of the work: neatly rolled handles, sharp unexpected angles, and surfaces with carefully monitored effects of glaze and firing. Cushing has an affection for a strange lavender glaze, a rare color in his kind of hearty ceramics, that worked better for me when it was matched with something darker and heavier than on its own. Another space with a small interesting show is the Show of Hands store on Pine Street. In an alcove gallery, until April 30, you can find a juried show of 30 nationally known ceramic artists. There is a wide range of techniques and choices on display. A tall, hand-built vessel featuring a neat double row of orange circles by Doris Fischer-Colbie stands near an intricate painted Japanese-flavored pillow by Darlene Davis, and not far from a light-hearted but technically difficult teapot in the form of a bagel and a box of Philadelphia (what else) Cream Cheese by Meryl Ruth. The artists, chosen by Sherman Hall, editor of Ceramics Monthly, were on hand for an opening reception.
I've written before about BSquare Gallery on 9th Street, one of my favorite small galleries. Here, until May 1, is a show entitled "1895 years of Pottery," which features master work from all over the country, including the fine sgraffito of Matt Metz from Alfred, and Neil Patterson, a local favorite with a studio on Fairmount Avenue in Philadelphia. I was happy to see that the show had almost sold out by the end of the first week.

Clay for All

Philadelphia is hosting the NCECA conference this week, the huge Ceramic artist and educator event that has almost literally covered this city in clay. 90 exhibitions related to clay are underway, and the convention center in the heart of the city is a hotbed of artists and art talk revolving around jigging and jollying, slip casting, high fire and low fire, raku, surface, form, and all other techniques, processes, and vocabulary. Stars of the ceramic world are giving lectures and demonstrations, and student work is on display alongside that of the top pros in the field. Isaiah Zagar, Philadelphia's own mosaic visionary, spoke this morning about his life's journey in his art, invoking shoulders he stands on, including Gaudi and Henry Chapman Mercer, and a doctoral student from Harvard gave an erudite talk about Black Mountain College and evolving attitudes towards ceramics. Richard Shaw and Kari Radasch, both master ceramists, stood on a stage shaping plates and pulling silkscreens, volleying wisdom back and forth as their hands kept busy with their work. In a nearby space galleries from around the country showed off their artists' work, next door to objects made by elementary and high school students. In one room there is a Cup Sale - tables full of functional (or not) cups donated by hundreds of artists - there alone is the magical story of clay: the idea of a simple object exploding into the glorious kaleidoscope of human imagination and physical dexterity. More blogs to come about individual shows and artists.  Works shown are by: Betty Wooden, Todd VanDuren, Brittany Telegan (8thgrade), Russell Biles, and Sam Chung. Are you a lover of clay? Leave a comment - tell me about it!