thomas müller
los angeles, california, usa
Thomas Müller in makeshift PPE, April 2020
![Thomas Müller, a smoke-filled room 2019, as shown in Medium at Friends of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles. Clay, glaze, wood. 6 ft x 8" x 1" (Tallest letter [l] is 5" tall)](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5e8c1c3c67e74065cc53987c/1589469240018-UF3MW7WCZMET0GSI8EV5/Tom+M%C3%BCller)
Thomas Müller, a smoke-filled room 2019, as shown in Medium at Friends of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles. Clay, glaze, wood. 6 ft x 8" x 1" (Tallest letter [l] is 5" tall)
As the seriousness of the COVID-19 pandemic began to reveal itself, my time was consumed by my academic practice—not only my personal teaching but, as Chair of 3D, helping full-time and adjunct faculty adapt as well. Not to mention taking care of the students’ needs. My university, USC (University of Southern California), approached the situation with compassion and clarity, as much as was possible. Nevertheless, at the start of the pandemic we were all on constantly shifting ground, trying to adapt on a daily basis as new facts emerged; it was all-consuming. Over the last few weeks, things have settled into somewhat of a routine and I’ve been able to resume my studio practice. Luckily, my primary studio is at home so I can juggle teaching (via Zoom), family, and studio.
Despite coming out of ceramics, my practice has always been conceptually based: ideas first, material second. Ironically, I had recently set myself a challenge: “Can I make work that is truly object-based and still articulate the ideas and concepts I’m interested in?” Despite having worked for years with clay, I’ve always made installations and/or time-based pieces. After much research, testing, and practice, I was just getting to the point where I was genuinely excited about this new object-based work…and then the virus hit. Many of the tools and materials I was using are at my University studio, which is still on lockdown, so that body of work is on pause.
However, in many ways this moment is suited for making the work I’ve always made: work that responds to circumstance, and to place. After a year spent obsessing about “the object,” I’m redirecting towards a more intuitive practice. Aside from clay, I’m using photography, wood, paper, and time—whatever materials I have around my home and studio. It’s forcing me to reexamine my practice and find news ways to ask compelling questions.
Right now we are all experiencing something on a global scale—together, but alone. How does art help us navigate this moment? We don’t know how to articulate it yet, because we’re still in it, and it will take time to gestate and percolate to the surface. This moment will likely reverberate in our respective practices for decades.
![Thomas Müller, There is no elephant in this room. Centerpiece for solo show entitled There is no elephant in this room. at Open Mind Art Space, Los Angeles, 2017. Clay, glaze, cinderblock. 7 ft x 7 ft x 10” (tallest letter [T] is 10” x 7” x 2” thick…](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5e8c1c3c67e74065cc53987c/1589469878735-MLLGJ808MQGLPD5ISWN5/noelephant.jpg)
Thomas Müller, There is no elephant in this room. Centerpiece for solo show entitled There is no elephant in this room. at Open Mind Art Space, Los Angeles, 2017. Clay, glaze, cinderblock. 7 ft x 7 ft x 10” (tallest letter [T] is 10” x 7” x 2” thick).
during the LOCKDOWN, ThoMas Müller has been adapting to online teaching of his USC students, and redirecting his attention towards a more intuitive practice, after a year spent focusing on ‘the object’.
Thomas Müller, I Love You (in the rain) (after the rain) (always), 2020. Slip cast porcelain, unfired, 40" x 5" x 1".
“This piece was made almost a month into quarantine, with no access to kilns, etc. By then I had some time to process the isolation that quarantine had created and to really think about how to show my work. It’s an ephemeral piece, set up in my garden, knowing the rains were coming: when it rains in LA, it really rains! It’s a nod to isolation, trying to connect and ultimately the fleeting moments we have together. Definitely bittersweet/melancholy.”
Thomas Müller, Two Commas, 2020. Porcelain, plexi. 2.5" x 2" x 1" (commas); 11 ft x 8" x 1" (with pedestal)
