Green River Project LLC
Time-Life Building, 2021
Aluminum
29.5 x 80 x 36 inches

Green River Project LLC — the ever-inventive design and making studio of Aaron Aujla and Ben Bloomstein — is a frequent exhibitor with Object & Thing, bringing their bespoke approach to each presentation. For this installation, they met with Gerald Luss at his New York City home and studio, and created a response to his inspirational life and work. One rectangular table in aluminum — 122 pounds of it — is a response to the architecture of the Time-Life Building (1959), where Luss completed his most well-known interiors. The choice of aluminum, a commonality that ties all of Green River Project’s contributions to the exhibition, evokes the modernist yet lavish atmosphere of mid-century Manhattan (and it’s worth noting that it was only in those years that monumental construction in aluminum became commonplace). The pair of sconces included at Luss House were designed for the restaurant Dr. Clark in New York City.

Green River Project LLC
Aluminum Round Table, 2021
Aluminum
48 in diameter x 29.5 in height

Green River Project LLC — the ever-inventive design and making studio of Aaron Aujla and Ben Bloomstein — is a frequent exhibitor with Object & Thing, bringing their bespoke approach to each presentation. For this installation, they met with Gerald Luss at his New York City home and studio, and created a response to his inspirational life and work. One rectangular table in aluminum — 122 pounds of it — is a response to the architecture of the Time-Life Building (1959), where Luss completed his most well-known interiors. The choice of aluminum, a commonality that ties all of Green River Project’s contributions to the exhibition, evokes the modernist yet lavish atmosphere of mid-century Manhattan (and it’s worth noting that it was only in those years that monumental construction in aluminum became commonplace). The pair of sconces included at Luss House were designed for the restaurant Dr. Clark in New York City.

Green River Project LLC
Aluminum Chair, 2021
Aluminum
31.5 x 16.5 x 20 inches

Green River Project LLC — the ever-inventive design and making studio of Aaron Aujla and Ben Bloomstein — is a frequent exhibitor with Object & Thing, bringing their bespoke approach to each presentation. For this installation, they met with Gerald Luss at his New York City home and studio, and created a response to his inspirational life and work. One rectangular table in aluminum — 122 pounds of it — is a response to the architecture of the Time-Life Building (1959), where Luss completed his most well-known interiors. The choice of aluminum, a commonality that ties all of Green River Project’s contributions to the exhibition, evokes the modernist yet lavish atmosphere of mid-century Manhattan (and it’s worth noting that it was only in those years that monumental construction in aluminum became commonplace). The pair of sconces included at Luss House were designed for the restaurant Dr. Clark in New York City.

Green River Project LLC
Aluminum and Leather Lounge Chair, 2021
Aluminum, leather
25 x 31 x 48 inches

Green River Project LLC — the ever-inventive design and making studio of Aaron Aujla and Ben Bloomstein — is a frequent exhibitor with Object & Thing, bringing their bespoke approach to each presentation. For this installation, they met with Gerald Luss at his New York City home and studio, and created a response to his inspirational life and work. One rectangular table in aluminum — 122 pounds of it — is a response to the architecture of the Time-Life Building (1959), where Luss completed his most well-known interiors. The choice of aluminum, a commonality that ties all of Green River Project’s contributions to the exhibition, evokes the modernist yet lavish atmosphere of mid-century Manhattan (and it’s worth noting that it was only in those years that monumental construction in aluminum became commonplace). The pair of sconces included at Luss House were designed for the restaurant Dr. Clark in New York City.

Green River Project LLC
Brushed Aluminum & Bamboo Sconce, 2021
Aluminum, bamboo
18 x 9.5 x 7 inches

Green River Project LLC — the ever-inventive design and making studio of Aaron Aujla and Ben Bloomstein — is a frequent exhibitor with Object & Thing, bringing their bespoke approach to each presentation. For this installation, they met with Gerald Luss at his New York City home and studio, and created a response to his inspirational life and work. One rectangular table in aluminum — 122 pounds of it — is a response to the architecture of the Time-Life Building (1959), where Luss completed his most well-known interiors. The choice of aluminum, a commonality that ties all of Green River Project’s contributions to the exhibition, evokes the modernist yet lavish atmosphere of mid-century Manhattan (and it’s worth noting that it was only in those years that monumental construction in aluminum became commonplace). The pair of sconces included at Luss House were designed for the restaurant Dr. Clark in New York City.

Kiva Motnyk
Afternoon Light - Multi, 2021
Framed piecework fabric panel made from French seamed silk, naturally dyed and hand-woven Korean pojagi silk, hand appliquéd North Indian silk, cotton velvet, Belgian linen, open weave linens, mixed hand-embroidery and naturally dyed remnants
95 x 65 inches

Since 2014, Kiva Motnyk has been the head of Thompson Street Studio, drawing on a background in high fashion to create textiles infused with natural dyes derived from foraged plants. Her pieces incorporate naturally dyed fabrics from her own dyes as well as collected antique linens, silks and mud cloths from around the world. (She has a particular love for textiles that already include collage elements, like Korean pojagi and Japanese boro.) Motnyk has created five new works for the presentation at The Gerald Luss House, including three tapestries placed over each of the bedrooms beds, a patchwork piece folded as a hand towel in the bathroom, and – most spectacular of all - the aptly titled Afternoon Light – Multi, a hand-pieced fabric panel stretched within a wooden frame that fills the main bedroom window. It infuses the space with the transcendent polychrome of medieval stained glass, while also establishing a sympathetic conversation with Gerald Luss’s gloriously externalized modernist architecture.

Kiva Motnyk
Botanic Study - Indigo, 2021
Tapestry made from pieced Belgian linen, silks, antique Japanese boro and African mud cloth, naturally dyed indigo textiles and mixed antique remnants with 100% organic cotton batting
112 x 92 inches

Since 2014, Kiva Motnyk has been the head of Thompson Street Studio, drawing on a background in high fashion to create textiles infused with natural dyes derived from foraged plants. Her pieces incorporate naturally dyed fabrics from her own dyes as well as collected antique linens, silks and mud cloths from around the world. (She has a particular love for textiles that already include collage elements, like Korean pojagi and Japanese boro.) Motnyk has created five new works for the presentation at The Gerald Luss House, including three tapestries placed over each of the bedrooms beds, a patchwork piece folded as a hand towel in the bathroom, and – most spectacular of all - the aptly titled Afternoon Light – Multi, a hand-pieced fabric panel stretched within a wooden frame that fills the main bedroom window. It infuses the space with the transcendent polychrome of medieval stained glass, while also establishing a sympathetic conversation with Gerald Luss’s gloriously externalized modernist architecture.

Kiva Motnyk
Pastoral Landscape - Soft Neutrals, 2021
Tapestry made from pieced Belgian linen, antique and contemporary silk, African mud cloth, hand-loomed and embroidered north Indian tapestries mixed with novelty French interiors fabric and hand-woven Korean silks with
100% Belgian linen backing
92 x 92 inches

Since 2014, Kiva Motnyk has been the head of Thompson Street Studio, drawing on a background in high fashion to create textiles infused with natural dyes derived from foraged plants. Her pieces incorporate naturally dyed fabrics from her own dyes as well as collected antique linens, silks and mud cloths from around the world. (She has a particular love for textiles that already include collage elements, like Korean pojagi and Japanese boro.) Motnyk has created five new works for the presentation at The Gerald Luss House, including three tapestries placed over each of the bedrooms beds, a patchwork piece folded as a hand towel in the bathroom, and – most spectacular of all - the aptly titled Afternoon Light – Multi, a hand-pieced fabric panel stretched within a wooden frame that fills the main bedroom window. It infuses the space with the transcendent polychrome of medieval stained glass, while also establishing a sympathetic conversation with Gerald Luss’s gloriously externalized modernist architecture.

Kiva Motnyk
Line Tapestry - Neutral, 2021
Tapestry made from seamed antique Italian silk, Belgian linen, appliquéd north Indian silk, African mud cloth, hand embroidered north Indian silk, antique Japanese printed silk, naturally dyed mixed remnants and Korean hand-woven and dyed silk
92 x 86 inches

Since 2014, Kiva Motnyk has been the head of Thompson Street Studio, drawing on a background in high fashion to create textiles infused with natural dyes derived from foraged plants. Her pieces incorporate naturally dyed fabrics from her own dyes as well as collected antique linens, silks and mud cloths from around the world. (She has a particular love for textiles that already include collage elements, like Korean pojagi and Japanese boro.) Motnyk has created five new works for the presentation at The Gerald Luss House, including three tapestries placed over each of the bedrooms beds, a patchwork piece folded as a hand towel in the bathroom, and – most spectacular of all - the aptly titled Afternoon Light – Multi, a hand-pieced fabric panel stretched within a wooden frame that fills the main bedroom window. It infuses the space with the transcendent polychrome of medieval stained glass, while also establishing a sympathetic conversation with Gerald Luss’s gloriously externalized modernist architecture.

Kiva Motnyk
Tea Towel - Multi, 2021
Tea towel made from Belgian linen, silk, antique Japanese indigo botanics, African mud cloth and open weave yarn dyed linen and cotton velvet
50.5 x 21 inches

Since 2014, Kiva Motnyk has been the head of Thompson Street Studio, drawing on a background in high fashion to create textiles infused with natural dyes derived from foraged plants. Her pieces incorporate naturally dyed fabrics from her own dyes as well as collected antique linens, silks and mud cloths from around the world. (She has a particular love for textiles that already include collage elements, like Korean pojagi and Japanese boro.) Motnyk has created five new works for the presentation at The Gerald Luss House, including three tapestries placed over each of the bedrooms beds, a patchwork piece folded as a hand towel in the bathroom, and – most spectacular of all - the aptly titled Afternoon Light – Multi, a hand-pieced fabric panel stretched within a wooden frame that fills the main bedroom window. It infuses the space with the transcendent polychrome of medieval stained glass, while also establishing a sympathetic conversation with Gerald Luss’s gloriously externalized modernist architecture.

Johnny Ortiz
Shallow Vessel 1, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
15 in diameter x 2.75 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Vessel 1, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
11 in diameter x 3.125 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Bean Pot, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
9 in diameter x 5.5 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work – literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” found in his home state of New Mexico. When he first discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first burnishing the pots with rough sandstone and then smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Shallow Vessel 2, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
12 in diameter x 2.25 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Shallow Vessel 3, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
10 in diameter x 1.75 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Petal Bowl 1, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
8.5 in diameter x 1.25 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Vessel 2, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
5.5 in diameter x 2.5 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Vessel 4, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
3 in diameter x 3.25 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Plate 1, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
10.25 in diameter x .5 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Plate 2, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
7.5 in diameter x .25 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Petal Bowl 2, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
7 in diameter x .25 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Plate 3, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
5.75 in diameter x .25 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Rose Bowl, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
5.25 in diameter x .75 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Palm Plate 1, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
4.5 in diameter x .25 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Palm Plate 2, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
3.5 in diameter x .125 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

Johnny Ortiz
Vessel 5, 2021
Micaceous earth from Northern New Mexico, sanded with local sandstone, burnished with a river stone, pit fired with red cedar during the February 2021 Snow Moon and cured with elk marrow and beeswax
3 in diameter x 1 in height

Artist and chef Johnny Ortiz digs deep in his work — literally. His primary ceramic material is micaceous “wild clay,” harvested in his home state of New Mexico. The micaceous clay he uses is from the same terrain his ancestors, Taos pueblo, have dug for hundreds if not thousands of years. When he first re-discovered this resource, his first instinct was to leave it in the ground: it seemed, he says, “too stunning to do anything with.” But he gradually came to grips with it, seeing in the clay a means of connecting to his own ancestral past, as well as to present-day aesthetic possibilities. He makes the material his own through an elaborate series of procedures, first sanding the pots with rough sandstone and then burnishing with smoother river stone, pit firing them with red mountain cedar he gathered from the mountains he inhabits, and finally, “curing” them with elk marrow and beeswax. This presentation at The Gerald Luss House, undertaken on the heels of Ortiz’s stint as a guest chef in the nearby Stone Barns Center and Blue Hill residency program, includes vessels fired during the 2021 Snow Moon.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

Ritsue Mishima
Torre 1, 2007
Glass
3.38 in diameter x 3.38 in height
Contributed by Alison Bradley Projects

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

The Jōmon pots of ancient Japan are thought to be the oldest of all ceramics; and in some respects, over the course of millennia, they have never been surpassed. They are often crowned by complex structures that scholars liken to flames – though in fact, we have no idea what they are meant to convey. For the Japanese artist Ritsue Mishima, who works between Kyoto and the historic glass center of Murano, near Venice, the mysterious Jōmon wares are an unendingly rich source of inspiration. She inverts the material polarity of the historic pots, rendering the forms transparent, while retaining their muscular gestural quality and evocative abstraction. Her practice involves collaborating with the glassmiths of Murano and always working with clear glass. At The Gerald Luss House, the sculptures land with the impact of meteors. Yet they also find subtle resonances with the expansive glass walls of the house, and the natural environment beyond. Her assured and formally precise vessels for chanoyu (tea ceremony), rarely exhibited outside of Japan, are also placed throughout the house.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired black stoneware vase with khaki ash, oribe, ash and oxblood glazes
16 x 10 x 10 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Gas fired porcelain vase with a celadon glaze interior, ash and oxblood glaze exterior and kintsugi
14.5 x 8.5 x 8.5 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain vase with a celadon glaze interior; khaki ash, oxblood, ash and oribe glaze exterior and kintsugi
10.5 x 7 x 7 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain vase with an oribe glaze interior; oribe, ash, oxblood and white flashing slip exterior and kintsugi
10 x 7 x 7 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2020
Wood fired porcelain vase with ash and oxblood glazes and kintsugi
10 x 7.5 x 7.5 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain vase with tenmoku and khaki glazes
7.75 x 6 x 6 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain three spout vase with ash, oribe and oxblood glazes
8.5 x 7 x 4 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain three spout vase with ash, oribe and oxblood glazes and kintsugi
9 x 7 x 3.5 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain double vase with ash and oribe glazes
7 x 6.25 x 1.25 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain double vase with khaki ash, ash and oxblood glazes
7 x 6.5 x 1.25 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain vase with khaki ash and oxblood glazes
7.75 x 5 x 5 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain vase with tenmoku glaze interior and white flashing slip exterior
6.5 x 4.5 x 4.5 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Gas fired porcelain vase with tea dust glaze
6 x 4.5 x 4 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain vase with oribe, ash and oxblood glazes
6.5 x 4.5 x 4 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain vase with oribe, ash and oxblood glazes
7 x 4 x 4 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Gas fired porcelain vase with khaki ash, ash and oxblood glazes
6 x 5.5 x 4.5 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain square vase with pink shino, oxblood and ash glazes
6.5 x 4 x 4 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Gas fired porcelain vase with tea dust glaze
5.5 x 5 x 5 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain three pipe spout vase with oribe, oxblood and ash glazes
6 x 5.5 x 3 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain triangle faceted vase with ash, oribe and oxblood glazes
7 x 2.75 x 2.75 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain triangle faceted vase with oribe, ash and oxblood glazes and kintsugi
7.5 x 3 x 3 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain triangle faceted vase with oribe, oxblood, ash and shino glazes
7.25 x 2.75 x 2.75 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain triangle faceted vase with oxblood, ash and shino glazes and kintsugi
7 x 2.75 x 2.75 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain triangle faceted vase with oxblood, ash and oribe glazes and kintsugi
7.25 x 3 x 3 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain ovoid vase with khaki ash, oribe and oxblood glazes and kintsugi
7 x 4.5 x 2.5 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain faceted vase with ash, oxblood and tenmoku glazes
6.5 x 3 x 3 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain square vase with ash and oxblood glazes
6.5 x 3.5 x 3.5 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain dish with khaki ash, ash and oxblood glazes
9 in diameter x 1.5 in height

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Wood fired porcelain dish with oribe, oxblood and khaki ash glazes
9 in diameter x 1.5 in height

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Terracotta planter
15 x 14 x 12 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Frances Palmer
2021
Terracotta planter
14.5 x 11.5 x 11.5 inches

Oxblood and oribe glaze; porcelain; wood and fire. These are the principle ingredients that combine in Frances Palmer’s two large-scale vases at The Gerald Luss House. Bigger than her usual scale, these noble pots fairly burst with life, even without the quince blossoms that she has brought from her Connecticut garden to put into them. Give yourself the exquisite pleasure of attending closely to their surfaces: the slip-sliding color of Chinese glazes moving into one another, the roseate glow of the wood-fired white porcelain where it’s exposed at the base. Don’t miss, either, the other smaller works that Palmer has brought to the proceedings – among them triple-spouted vases reminiscent of 17th century Delftware tulipières. There could be no more satisfying juxtaposition than these earthy objects and the modernist rigor of the house: like Gerald Luss, Frances Palmer really, really knows how to live. It’s a joy to behold.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
16.9 x 9.75 x 4.6 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
20.6 x 6 x 5.5 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
20.8 x 6.5 x 5.7 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
9.45 x 15.75 x 4.5 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
14.3 x 6.5 x 5 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
7.6 x 11 x 3.8 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
6 x 7 x 7 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
5.5 x 10.6 x 10.6 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
7.8 x 11.4 x 10.7 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
10.6 x 10.5 x 11.4 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
10.25 x 11 x 11 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.

Yoichi Shiraishi
Untitled, 2021
Ceramic, porcelain and soil
7.6 x 10.5 x 12.25 inches
Contributed by GALLERY crossing

To make ceramics in Japan is on the one hand entirely natural – it is after all one of the nation’s great artistic traditions – but also, for the same reason, an almost unimaginable challenge. With a legacy of so much beauty, depth and invention, what more is there to contribute? Every generation, every new potter, must answer this question. Many today find their path by going the long way around, finding a totally new way to give shape to clay. Case in point: Yoichi Shiraishi. Still young by the standards of the discipline (he turns forty this year), he makes his objects by first pulverizing blocks of clay-rich soil, then reconstituting them in molds, leaving the organic grain of the material intact. This process involves almost no direct contact with the clay, a striking departure from the medium’s usual investment in tactility. It does however connect to another vaunted Japanese ceramic ideal, the embrace of irregularity and accident. Shirashi brings this out further through firing at a high temperature, purposefully destroying the integrity of the molded form, and allowing the soil to express different colors based on its impurities, and form a rich texture of wrinkles and cracks. The final effect is ruinous, as in a dilapidated or collapsed building, but also has the resolution of an instinct followed to its ultimate conclusion. This is Shiraishi’s first presentation of work in the United States.