GoingForIt

Korean culture enjoys and celebrates ceramics. 

In Korea ceramics are an important part of the culture and, unlike in our culture, potters and ceramicists are respected and at times revered. There is in Korea a history of ceramics which goes back to the beginning of their civilisation and has continued until today and will continue well into the future. 

The town of i-chon in South Korea, is an important ceramic center. Every two years this fact is celebrated with an international ceramic convention, which attracts an huge Korean and international audience, both in terms of participation and observation. There are many exhibitions, workshops plus series of lectures. 

This year a new concept was added to an already impressive program. 'Talks by Artists', is a forum which introduces artists presenting their ideas in relation to their work. There are no guidelines and as a result this will be an interesting addition to the event. 

The Korean Ceramic Foundation (KOCEF) send out a brief, asking for expressions of interest and, as a result of my connection with Korea I received an invitation to submit a talk.

I felt that after having worked with clay and enjoying writing about my concepts and discoveries in relation to the medium for over forty years, I would be able to make a worthwhile contribution.

I thought a novel idea was to write in a poetic style and try to express the emotions which are at work in my ceramic making. Here is a sample:

Throughout my life, a life involved in art and ceramics and everything which is part of it, this has been a mystery to me. Something which keeps on recurring. I visit a museum and find myself standing in front of an ancient piece of ceramic ware. I respond to it. However, I do not only respond to this work on an intellectual or emotional level, although at first one would think so. My response surfaces from a deeper place. It seems to come from a level much older, much more ancient. From some aspect in our psyche which has existed from a time well before the intellect and the emotions came into play.

I wrote my artist talk and send a précis (which was requested). After a two months wait I was informed that my artist talk had been accepted. This means that I shall probably go to Korea to present my talk.

in order to share my thoughts with my community, I will also present this illustrated talk for this year's 'Words in Winter', held during august. (Saturday august 3, at 8pm, Sunday 4th august at 4pm at door3 East Street Daylesford. Plus i will present this talk as a floor talk during my exhibition in Bendigo. Wednesday 28th august, 6 p.m. at the Latrobe Art Gallery View Street, Bendigo    

 

"when it comes to going after what you love in life don't take no for an answer' 

RadicallyNewWork

 a new work

it employes an altogether new technique

using imagery from the forest

i am working for an exhibition in Bendigo

during august

the opening will be on the 15th from 6-8 pm

at the latrobe gallery in view street

then there will be a floor talk

on august the 28th

time still worked on

while i am at it

i am also presenting a talk at the daylesford word in winter event

this will be at the door3 theatre in east street

and will be illustrated 

it will be a double bill

i will perform with my god daughter

ms samara radford

who is a young doctor at the alfred hospital and 

who will relate some of her learning adventures

date: 3rd august

time: 8p.m.

date: 4th august

time: 4p.m.

this will be a great night out

come along and experience clay space

"Art exists to disturb the sleep of the world"

TheArtistTalks

on the 5th of april

i will present a talk

on simple ways of firing ceramics

 

ways you can employ in your own backyard

this talk will be illustrated 

with images gathered from many years 

of interest in these ways of firing

then  as, an extra, i will present a work in progress

an audio visual project i am working, on titled:

 

'THE WHITE FOREST PROJECT'

the mad mental meanderings of a lone traveler

this event will be held under the auspices of Clay Space

at door3 in east street Daylesford

on the 5th of April from 7 - 9pm

Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.


  

 

 

 

         

 

 

 

a paper kiln?

a paper mache kiln

on the 16th of march

i shall conducting a clay making workshop

in a beautiful setting at the foot of mt Franklin

we will make some objects to fire in a paper mache kiln

on friday evening, the 5th of April

i shall present an artist talk at the door3 venue

where you can also find the 'clay space' gallery and shop

on Saturday the 6th April

i shall be conducting a paper mache and bucket kiln 

building and firing workshop

one or tow days later we will open the kiln

to receive our rewards

if you live near Daylesford, or do not mind travelling

and you are intrested in this workshop

contact me on:
art@petrusspronk.com

When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't
take no for an answer

 

 

 

 

 

MyNewBook

Meditations On A Korean 

Odyssey

This e-book describes a journey around Korea, 

the land of the morning calm. 

It looks at the the ways and means of this amazing country, 

and expresses it in poetic language. 

It takes you on a wonderful journey 

and looks at the people and their incredible energy. 

It takes you on walks, 

in the mountainous landscape, 

visits the boisterous markets, 

the stillness of temples 

and reverence of the palaces. 

It tastes the food. 

Gets you lost and finds your way again. 

It is beautifully illustrated with many magical images. 

This book will submerge you in the culture 

as if you were there and provide you with a real travel experience 

you will surely enjoy. 

Petrus

this is the link: http://ar.gy/3RoR

FullAndFoolish

a few days ago,

there was a full moon.

full as a boot.

and foolish.

 careening across the sky,

it swayed and swerved between both horizons.

and, finally worn out,

falls down far, far away, 

into the gutter between heaven and earth.

to return tomorrow night,

and make merry once again.

this time a little less full.

a little less foolish.

this time drawing a strong curve across the heavens,

to disappear gently, without a splash,

into the ocean.

like a coin into a piggy bank.

fool

"the light of the moon is like that of a 60 watt globe"

HeyYouHaiku

This blog does not need an image

because it deals with the mind images

which are called up by text

the text in this case being haiku poems

For a number of years I lived on the edge of the desert in South Australia. Both isolated and solitary. In this situation one appreciates visitors. Which were scarce. I remember most. One in particular. He, in a subtle way, changed my life. He left me a gift which, after many years, I still have. A gift of a book of Haiku Poetry. Haiku, a Japanese form of poetry. Short intense poems, two lines in length. This gift which, like rain, fell onto fertile ground, turned a virtual mind desert into an oasis.

The Japanese genius for the creation of ‘little things’ does not only express itself in today’s electronic gadgets of the computer world, but has its tradition in a long and intricate history. One only has to look at the exquisitely carved ivories (netsuke) or the equally exquisite dwarfed trees (bonsai) to understand where the tradition of Haiku poetry has its roots.

Although the outer form of the two lined haiku poem is minute, its inner scope has the capacity to be immense. A favourite way of explaining the essence of this short form of poem is that it expresses “the Ahh!-nes of things”. There are many examples. My favourite was written by a monk who, upon returning to his cell, found it robbed empty. His response in Haiku:

“The thief, he left it behind 

The moon in the window”,

or this

“Up comes the bucket from the well of gloom,

And in it floats – a pink Camellia bloom”,

and again

“My ears had found the sermon dull and stale;

But in the woods outside – the nightingale”.

These short poems seemed to have a direct line into our creative inspiration centre.

 

The Ahhh-ness of things

How could the gift of a collection of Haiku poems change my life. It came in relation to the fertile ground of a lifestyle of solitude. A magic combination. It taught me to focus my mind in a different way on the environment. This created a minute mind shift strong enough to experience a life change. From that moment on I started each day with a short observation, often in writing, of the environment in which I lived. From this came my interest in writing which has lived on until this day. These expressions do not in any way copy the Haiku form, but certainly have their roots in that gift left by a traveller all those many years. One never knows into what any gesture of kindness may result. 

Nature features strongly in Haiku Poetry. I will finish this blog’s ‘Ahhh-nes’ 

with another short selection of summer Haikus:

“The butterfly which on a poppy clings,

Opens and shuts a booklet’s paper wings”.

“People caught by sudden pouring skies;

What ingenious hats they improvise”.

“The snake has slid away: but still its eyes,

Glare at me from the grass and paralyse”.

“What burning stillness! Brass cicadas-drones.

Drill their resonance into rocks and stones”.

“The sun-shower, mirrored in a globe of rain.

Hangs for a moment, never seen again”.

”A moonlit evening: here beside the pool.

Stripped to the waist – a snail enjoys the cool”

From the Haiku collection titled: “A net of fireflies”

'Follow that way which experience confirms to be your own'

                                                                                                                     

It'sBushfireSeasonAgain

some poems to remind you

of the bush fire season

they were written for the daylesford bush fire memorial

two of the poems were chosen

 

the memorial was recently installed at the skate park

1

A black charcoal drawing

carelessly scribbled

into the landscape

with a burning match.

 2

The brutal beauty

of the wild flames,

like a weaving,

meanders through trees.

Leaving behind a trail

of black landscapes.

Observe.

Exquisite beauty

3

Fire drawings in the sky,

colouring in the density

of towers of smoky clouds.

Billowing like sails

of ancient viking ships,

having razed the land,

Leave their charcoal signature

in the landscape

 4

Controlled fire,

a friend.

Uncontrolled fire,

worse than an enemy.

destroys without a thought

whole ways of life.

Never ever to be renewed

 5

Masterpiece in red.

Concerto of flames.

Opus of rolling fire.

Symphony of blistering screams.

Disharmony of sounds.

Then,

sonata of silence….

 

6

A careless match,

roadside summer dry.

A run of fire,

turns wild.

Chaos, madness, panic,

terror, fear, horror

then….

the stillness of a charcoal night black.

Aahhh…….

7

View without the emotion,

The burned foot print

of the fire

is beautiful.

Like a black and white

photographic print

of the last century

 8

A thrown match,

like an artist's brush,

paints a mural across the sky.

An image of intense red,

of devastation,

build in hope.

Regeneration……. 

 9

The sun's eye

with tears of sadness,

at the destructive burning below.

everything conspired,

to review by fire,

the sum of

all of men's efforts.

10

The yellow heart of the fire

licks at the orange edge,

turning into red

the print against the sky

by a new expressionist.

Title: Destruction 

 

 

"During the Second World War, Winston Churchill’s finance minister said Britain should cut arts funding to support the war effort. Churchill’s response: “Then what are we fighting for?”"

 

 

 

 

 

SnowflakesInSummer

summer in the new cool burned forest

ash grey burned ground

stark pillars of black

penetrating a bright blue sky

the forest is darkly quiet

accepted in its dawn/dusk light

the gift of white snow flakes

'Cosmic energy orchestrates the body'

AVeryOldAndLongChristmasStory

Instead of the usual image 

on top of the blog

this time use your imagination

Dear Readers, this is my last blog this year, it seems a good time to write you with a thought of Christmas in mind. That celebration when we wish each other peace and goodwill. That celebration where we indulge in the love of our family and friends and generally eat and drink a little too much.

Peace on Earth

Maybe a good place to start is where this all began for me. Remembering strongly the place and time when I was a child in Holland. Usually there would be snow, frost, cold, short days and much warmth inside. There would be special things to eat, Christmas decorations and soft snow on the windowsill. There may have been a snowman in the miniscule garden but there was definitely a warming fire in the hearth. The Christmas tree would arrive, bringing with it the perfume of nature and the forest. A fresh wood smell mingled with the smell of sweet spicy Christmas cooking. Then, on Christmas eve, the very old and beautifully painted statues of the Christmas story would appear. A highlight. Carefully, they would be taken, one by one, out of an old cardboard box and out of their soft paper wrappings. Some animals, I recall an gentle bovine and a scattering of soft sheep, there would be a baby Jesus, a Mary and Joseph, a few shepherds and the magnificent three kings. All would appear from the their year in storage. As new. The whole scene would be set around an old wooden stable made, by my dad, from bits and pieces. Lastly, and to give the whole scene an ambiance of a stable, there would be a few handfuls of fragrant straw, another special effect for a city kid.

The whole scene used to be placed on a side board (I recall this specifically because it allowed me, when I was small and this event was at its most potent, to view the scene from eye level. As a result it appeared most realistic, as if I was part of it). The tall white candles would be lit and with that action the magic of Christmas arrived. I could stand for hours looking and dreaming at this most wonderful and intimate scene.

Christmas eve would be very special, not because of presents because we did not exchange presents and gifts during Christmas. This was a family event with the emphasis of sharing the family experience rather than things. (How I still long for the feeling of that time, gift and hassle free). This was also the time for the story of the nativity scene to be told and the questions, as to why a child had to be born in a stable, which was beyond my imagination, to be answered. Here in the warmth of a my family’s Christmas home I always found it hard to understand that when a man and his pregnant wife, riding a donkey, trying to find a place of comfort they had to be banished to a stable. Although on the sideboard of our house this all looked good, the real story, and the way it was told with colour and imagination by my dad, changed all that. I used to be puzzled and horrified. I still am.

I still am because now I once more have to relive this Christmas story in my own home. Only now the nativity story of old has become all to real. The people seeking a place of comfort this time aren’t named Mary and Joseph, and their child about to be born isn’t called Jesus, but those people seeking a place of comfort are still people and in many ways exactly the same as those seeking a place of comfort some two thousand years ago. They are people in need who come to our door and knock on it in hope… Although the story is similar, there are a few differences. The donkey is replaced by a old donkey-like boat, the stable is now a place of detention. The straw, of some comfort, is replaced by razor wire and the candles lighting that scene centuries ago are now white searchlights. The animals of the nativity scene, which gave at least a sense of warmth and comfort such as the donkey, oxen and sheep, have been replaced by growling guard dogs. There are still the good shepherds and even an expression of the three kings in the form of the many concerned citizens and refugee advocates. However, they are not allowed to enter the stable to bring their simple offerings. Nor some human warmth.

After the event in Bethlehem we were going to make sure this would not ever happen again. We even called our commitment after Jesus Christ, that is ‘Christian’ so we would be sure to behave as Christ, or Christians. We even build many churches to make sure we would be reminded of our Christian behaviour each and every Sunday. Good Christians. Today’s innkeepers the politicians of both sides Heartofstone apparently are also Christians and go to church to prove it. By making this comparison I think I am being unfair to the original inn-keeper. What I remember from the story was that he did not have room, while our contemporary innkeepers have more than plenty.

One of the strongest images from the original nativity scene on the sideboard, lit by candles and perfumed by real straw was the peacefulness of the swaddled baby Jesus. Still now, many years later, when I look at a newborn baby that feeling of an all pervading peace and sense of wonder overwhelms me. It maybe the total innocence of that new life, it maybe the promise of the future, it maybe the total helplessness of the being. Whatever it is, it is very special. Looking at newborn babies, and not only the baby Jesus, seems to bring out the best in people. Most people.

Just as it was inconceivable for me to understand, as a child, how a baby could possibly be banished to a stable to be born, it is now totally inconceivable for me to understand, even as an adult, how my government, and we as a nation, could banish children of all ages to a detention stable. Not for a night but for years on end. Some of them have been there all their lives. For some it is their fifth Christmas. Why I wonder. How, in 2012, can we as fellow human beings possibly allow this to happen. Christians? What sort of Christians are they?

Look at the children around you now, look at those children again at Christmas and wonder, as I do, at the terribleness of this situation and the absolute heartlessness of the politicians responsible.     

I have long since given up on being a Christian and on Christian politicians. I have had a bit of trouble with the examples I am continuously being supplied with. I even feel that Christmas is now without real meaning and just a commercial fake. However, all the same, I would like to wish you all a lovely and safe holiday season, whatever your believes. Till next year when I hope the sun may shine for all children.