Anne Verdier
St Victor sur Rhins, France
Confined clay…
It’s a mild and bright spring in Desvernay. The family is altogether, we teach at home, the vegetable garden takes shape and the weeds too... However, this little paradise contrasts with the darkness of the news. It is difficult to imagine what is happening elsewhere, the planes have fallen silent, giving way to the birds, everything is calm. The radio transmits messages of warning, prevention, a virus is spreading all over the world, our deaths are being counted...
What to do with clay? The tension is so high outside, I feel in the right place when I clear and plant potatoes like my grandparents did 60 years ago. Then the clay guides me to the kiln. This is where the work will begin. I take refuge in this womb, a place of all possibilities. First with my hands, then with my feet, I press clay against the walls of the wood-firing kiln. It’s a small cramped place, but with great promise. This is the place of shifting for ceramics. I look at this work dreaming of another fairer and more human world.