Art Begets Art
11 December 2022
Have you ever looked up the linguistic roots of “obliged”? From two Latin words, ob (to) + ligare (to tie, bind), it describes the breath-taking debt I (Becca) find myself in as I wrap up Cappadocian Commissions for pick-up/shipping next weekend.
I am bound in gratitude to an unknown host of ancient Anatolian artists. Their delightfully quotidian pottery and skillfully-wrought mosaics come down to me in museums like an inheritance from masters of old. From the exhibits Leah and I lingered over, I catch glimpses of these people’s journeys from apprentice to master. The effect is overwhelmingly humanizing.
A mosaic from Amasya, from which sprung many iterations in clay…
like stacking bowls,…
…a tea service tray,…
…a box lid…
…with its box,…
….a bowl,…
…and even a high tea platter set!
Stylishly indispensable sister assistance over Thanksgiving Break.
I can almost hear them shudder as I look at collapsed pots excavated next to an ancient kiln. Destroyed by over-firing, these melted-but-whole vessels must have been thrown to the side of the kiln — a de facto trash heap. Now they are considered museum treasures for being intact. I imagine the masters’ groans if they could know that the works that survived them were their biggest disappointments. Strangely, it comforts me. Long hours, frustrating loss, and unexpected failure were part of these makers’ journeys, too.
The sight of these arrested me when I rounded the corner. I sat down and laughed for a full minute in this museum exhibit.
A re-created kiln, modeled after an excavation nearby.
I’ve spent hours poring over the photos we took in Türkiye and I’ve been astonished by how readily inspiration comes to my hand as I begin to paint bowls or carve ceramic boxes. The degree of attention and detail lavished on even a single mosaic invites me to play— something I haven’t felt freedom to do for several years.
Which brings me to my final thought: I’m obliged to you. Those of you who commissioned me to make pottery inspired by this trip to Cappadocia believed in this work long before I did. (There were days before our October 1st departure when I catastrophized about losing the use of my hands or failing to translate the beautiful forms and geometric designs of Turkish crafts into my work.) You helped focus my artistic interests and gave me the opportunity to practice new motifs without the risk that “it might not sell.” You’ve taught me that art begets art, not in a vacuum, but in the warmth and generosity of a supportive community. I look forward to thanking many of you in-person on Friday!
The left mug has mountains that imitate those in Kayseri (formerly Caesarea), near Avanos. The right mug has mountains from Annisa, Macrina’s home.