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Craig Bird on Collecting
Why collect, why indeed! Is the presence of beauty and a “well made”
object not enough of a reason? The honest truth in my mind, is the fact
that I do not collect anything. This is not a mere exercise in semantics
or some escape clause to avoid the label of “materialist”. Rather I believe that my lifestyle is a dramatic and obligating choice
to live with and around hand made or created objects. This choice involves me in the daily interaction
with these “things”, feeding off their inspiration, involvement in
the care and curatorial duties that maintain them and the ongoing study of the history, context and creation of the “well
made”.
From the time I was 16 and handled my first Michael Price California
Dirk and I also began to decipher the mysteries of the Japanese Sword, I made a
choice to have a personal space, an environment, that I could have a degree of control over. A personal space began to define itself as
one which allowed me an uninterrupted moment of calm, as well as being able
to give me inspiration and clarity. This choice created a space that fostered a dialogue that I continue
today. Most people label me a collector, this loses sight of a path my wife and
I have embarked upon. A way of living, into which we can retreat, a sanctuary
of hand made objects from which we can replenish and nourish our spirit.
For over 20 years I have made a conscious choice to own little, but to live with objects we find to have a sense of import or consequence. Our
house is the only controllable environment that we have, and we strive
to create a sanctuary from the stress and pressures of daily living. Within our home and
its few pieces of hand made furniture, prints, painting, pottery and metalwork, we are managing a space that allows us brief moments of
tranquility and clarity. The passion for living this way, in and around
objects we see as beauty, has become our reward and personal connection
to the works and talents of many inspired artisans, both living and dead, with whom we may have an ongoing and rich dialogue.
“The question, is not what you look at, but what do you see?”, this quote by Henry David
Thoreau crystallizes my belief in the constant dialogue between object and viewer. “Good work” is first and foremost
about this dialogue. The primary dialogue takes place between the maker
and his artwork; the secondary dialogue is between the object and the viewer. In an object that qualifies as “well made” the dialogue moves
through the maker, into the object, and to the viewer in a manner that
can not be explained, only felt. It is like standing in front of Monet’s
Water Lilly paintings or other masterpieces, the message, though at many
differing levels, is understood by all who come in contact with them. It
is in my mind, probably this dynamic that defines the object and all other objects that are of a like nature.
It is this dialogue, a very personal and often solitary experience that has forced me to live the way that I do. In this dialogue, I am
able to place an object within an aesthetic context, but also a personal
one within my own environment along with my interests and experiences from music and film to food, drink and literature. By creating this
dialogue, I can also help decide how I live, influencing moods, pursuits
and my personal creativity in my pottery and paintings.
Choosing things to live with is a very personal and rarely objective experience. I am guilty of responding to objects that I perceive as
“well made”, and consequently in time the level of dialogue I can have
with them is diminished. These were the wrong choices, things that I become complacent with or bored of. Things to look for should be a
constant source of information and emotion. Over time and exposure to new experience the greater the dialogue with a “well made” object
becomes. At 20 and now at 40, my ability to maintain a meaningful and
rewarding dialogue with arts and crafts has changed and matured. A knife, sword or other object owned at 20 can not maintain this level of
dialogue a piece acquired at 40 would take. Today decisions are made
more slowly, even though an object may speak to me immediately. With time my
ability to see within the object, beyond its technical craftsmanship, into it’s nature to transcend mere formality and function, has developed
and with new experiences will hopefully continue to do so. Today the works I am looking to live with reach beyond a high level of
craftsmanship and artistry, looking to push beyond the conventional and
add to the field rather than simply rely on those things, which have come before it.
Most objects that I respond to now are stripped of the superfluous, and stand firmly on the beauty of a distilled line. These objects,
whether chair or sword, reach for that indefinable “something” well
beyond the concept of function, existing form and the preconceived limitations of contemporary materials. Contemporary
Damascus and modern studio furniture are good examples of this new aesthetic.
The qualities of a “well made” object are subtle. Inherently they possess a mastery or near mastery of the material, process and art of the
particular pursuit. The simpler a “well made” object is, the more complex its definition becomes. Artists and craftsman after this “well
made” work, after gaining a level of technical virtuosity, strip away
these binding issues and in the conscious and unconscious mind, struggle
with the greater concepts of contributing to the art, context and the
act of creation. When all works well, as deigned by the gods, the luck of
planetary alignment or some other act of serendipity, an object is born
that bares it’s presence or spirit. I have encountered things, such as a
Japanese Tea bowl of the 16th century, which had enough presence to fill
a large gallery space. For this reason, museums carefully arrange their
spaces to avoid overwhelming their guest and burning them out. When these pieces are created, I believe a certain amount of the creative
spontaneity and tension is captured within the work suspending a moment
of the creation.
Spirited and empowered works, somehow possess a spark that captivates those who come in contact with it. It is in this way that the viewer and
viewed share a dialogue, a moment, that unfolds or unravels the nature
and intent of the object. It is through a sensitivity of concept, form,
material and process borne of humble and noble materials alike, which establishes the criterion by which an art/ craft is defined and driven.
Likewise those sensitive enough to perceive these subtleties are able to
enter into a lifelong dialogue with the works. Irrespective of whether
or not they own the work in question. “Well made” objects somehow contain an ability to open themselves and share their inner beauty,
meaning and complexities with those sensitive enough, and receptive enough to initiate, maintain, and continue a dialogue.
Through the internalizing process of creation and sharing the created, both craftsman/ artist and collector are plunged into a moment that
shares not only the present object, but also it’s foundation in the past, it’s context and presence in the moment and it’s vital role in
pushing the art into the future. A “well made” object maintains this
interest and dialogue. The dialogue is continuous and continues to
develop over time. These objects constantly reveal themselves, the longer they are lived with and around. In time you think you know all
the nuances of a piece, yet you are constantly made aware that there are
things you discover with each encounter. By bringing new experiences to
the table, as you grow, your perception of the details change and your
insights become more acute. Every day a new dialogue emerges, this work
is never boring. A good piece, ”well made”, will always meet your
aesthetic and emotional needs.
So, why collect, this is the personal, individual responsibility that needs to be answered. There are many reasons and definitions for
collecting or living with art and craft. In my nearly three decades of
“collecting”, I have found that the dialogue, curatorial responsibilities and a need to research and define an object’s context,
have driven me into the esoterica of metal, clay and ink. I believe that
this pathway has lead me to a more insightful and complete relationship
with my environment and hopefully in time will help me become not only a
better craftsman, but a more thoughtful and responsible “collector”.
Craig Bird
March 2000