Kaitlyn Anderson

Texture in my practice exists as an inevitable facet of my medium. Ceramics is tactile and exists in space in a way that demands surface. I am drawn to subtle, inviting textures, made to draw in viewers and give them room to examine and contemplate. The textures are inspired by naturalistic elements in rural areas, such as animal fur, feathers, textiles, and organic growth and decomposition. My surfaces are often a conglomerate of multiple of these, calling back to my upbringing in rural north Georgia. I continually return to textures that are repetitive in an organic fashion, and ones that contour the existing ceramic forms.

In my everyday life, I pull from the way my cat's fur catches the light when they sleep. The way the hair contours around their sweet little bodies gives expression to their positions. They are so individually expressive, and I continually sculpt furry creatures with their so ness in mind.

I pull from the moments in nature where it becomes consuming. The slowly crawling kudzu that eats the south, the way it blankets everything it touches. The way it becomes a pelt, a fur surrounding our lived environment. I hate and love watching each summer as the tendrils envelop everything in their path, from trees to buildings.

I continue to be inspired by the way mushrooms and fungi move under the surface, and become undulating to our eyes. They move in silence, connecting the living and the dead.

The way mold forms, conglomerates, and consumes a surface. It blooms in clusters and spreads. I love the so texture and the way mold can mimic fur, powder, hair, and moss.

I use fibers and textiles in my work as a so contrast to the still and firm texture of the ceramic forms. Quilts, transparent lace, and repetitively looped doileys interact with the naturalistic sculptures. I pull these textures in from the existing tradition within the Appalachian region. Familiar materials act as an access point, as well as lending a sense of comfort.

In my studio, my favorite tool for making texture is just my thumb. As a ceramicist, I have a multitude of tools that offer the opportunity to explore texture, yet I almost always fall back on my own hands. They are consistent and trustworthy. One of my favorite pieces is this rabbit, “gnawed”, and the entirety of the swirling surface was done with my thumb, just repeatedly tracing the surface and indenting the contours. The ceramics are then interrupted by clusters of pearls and gentle fibers. These factors individually, I think, are quite beautiful and precious- but the longer you stare, the pearls start to conglomerate to create pustules, cellular bodies on the surface. The subtle flocked fur begins to mirror mold, blanketing the surface. The line between beautiful and grotesque is thin.