Shards

Dr. Jo Dahn explains the process

and concept behind her installation

I
Above: Shards (Detail). n June 2008 i installed a carpet of ceramic shards in the gallery at
Bath School of Art and Design (Bath Spa University, England). The
account that follows is a first reflection on its genesis, development
and production.
I was digging my vegetable plot when the idea began to form. Like all
city gardeners, I kept finding small pieces of ceramic. Blue and white,
polychrome, unglazed earthenware, bits of tile, pipe stems... fragments
from so many past lives. The pile grew steadily. After a while I went
inside for a break; idling with a cup of tea, I turned on the television. As
luck (or serendipity) would have it, there was a programme about the
exhibition of the Chinese Terracotta Army at the British Museum.1 An
archaeologist was holding a fairly nondescript terracotta shard with a
trace of red pigment on its surface. His account of how this fragment
had been pivotal in understanding the original colouration of the war-
rior figures was gripping. From that mere trace it was possible to draw
conclusions about how the figures would have looked when they were
freshly made. It also emerged that the Army was first discovered when
Chinese farmers who were digging a well came across piles of shards.
As the curator of the small gallery at Bath School of Art and Design
and Senior Lecturer in Ceramics History and Theory, I was about to
embark on an exhibition to accompany a Symposium whose overall
theme was the ceramic surface.2 I had not yet determined the nature
of the exhibition; now I began to consider it in earnest. Down-playing

90 CeramicsTECHNICAL No. 28 2009

the form, I reasoned, would bring the surface
into sharper focus. What about dispensing with
the form altogether and displaying shards in
the gallery? There have been precedents. Susan
Hiller, for example, produced an innovative and
influential arrangement of hundreds of Pueblo
Pottery shards, alongside drawings and photo-
graphs that showed how they had been collected.
As Moira Vincentelli has observed, ...the work
offered a critique of ways of understanding the
world through classification and organisation of
these tiny fragments of evidence.3
I conjured up visions of something less orderly,
though still contained: a carpet of fragments
from whose surface shapes, textures and colours
emerged, ebbed and flowed. Apart from the fas-
cination it would hold for a ceramics audience,
such a thing might coalesce into more than just
the sum of its (ceramic) parts and achieve a wider
appeal in terms of sculpture and painting. I liked
the fact that a carpet is readily associated with the
domestic interior, that the word carpet is both
a noun and a verb and that a carpet has a particular, almost intuitive, Above: Assembling the Materials.
geometric relation to the human form. I was also influenced by photo-
graphs of people walking on hot coals, where again a particular propor-
tion generally operates: big enough to test the walkers resolve; not so
big that they cant get off it in a hurry.
To form the sort of carpet I aspired to would require a huge number
of shards and I sent out an appeal for contributions:
I am working on an exhibition for the gallery at Bath School of Art and
Design and I'm writing to ask for help. I want to lay a 'carpet' of fired
ceramic shards. It's going to take lots of them to achieve the right effect
and ideally I'd like the carpet to be made up of pieces that come from all
over the place. Please send me a few of your breakages! Even just 2 or 3
bits would be a useful contribution.
[...] We will display a list of the names of all who send contributions.
Incidentally, the gallery is fitted with web cameras (http://gallery.art-
bathspa.com)4 so you will be able to see the carpet when it is finished
- which will be the last week in June 2008.
An important factor in considering the energetic response the appeal
elicited involves the notion of craft community. By this I mean a
shared commitment to working with a chosen material that amounts
to a kind of intensity, perhaps even an obsession. This notion of craft
community resonates with what Peter Hobbis called the craft ideal, We sorted as we smashed and
which sees human life as essentially communal and collaborative so gradually accumulated moun-
that individual crafts people are acting positively to serve the interests tains of broken pieces, graded
in terms of their suitability for
of others and the productive activity of each harmonises with the
base, middle or surface.
goals of all.5 Even though their own approach may be entirely tradi-
tional, in my experience many ceramists are willing to engage with prac-
tices that challenge conventional notions of ceramics, on the assumption
that such challenges have emerged from and are rooted in a fascination
with the material. The lively response to my call for shards supported
this theory and the very fact that people were willing to take the time

CeramicsTECHNICAL No. 28 2009 91


Above: Janet Hill and Martha Orr
begin the construction.
It is worth remembering that
the installation was constructed
in response to a university sym-
posium.9 In many ways, for an
academic such as myself, Shards
was like giving a paper. This was
my comment on the ceramic sur-
face and I hope that on the day it
wasnt really necessary to know
exactly how it was put together; I
like to think that it made a visual
statement and expressed some-
thing beyond all of these words.
92
to package and post their breakages to
me was immensely encouraging. They
sent pieces of ash glazed stoneware, of
printed earthenware, tiny fragments
of embossed porcelain, long thin
strands, scraps with painterly effects...
Every time I opened one of the parcels
I experienced a frisson of excitement.
Some came from well-known
makers, including Edmund de Waal,
Emmanuel Cooper, Paul Scott, Stephen
Dixon, Peter Hayes... Among my stu-
dents, these were christened celebrity
shards and they quickly assumed the
character of saintly relics (reminiscent
perhaps, of how the slightest sketch by a famous artist is revered). They
were passed around and scrutinised for evidence of glaze application,
print techniques, type of clay body I hadnt properly recognised quite
how much information can be gleaned from a shard. In some sense too,
handling them was a privilege: many ceramists, especially when they are
well known, are not willing to expose their mistakes. Not everything we
received was the result of a makers mistake of course. One single exqui-
site shard by Edmund de Waal, for example, was from an exhibition piece
that had been broken by gallery assistants during packing.
Even if hundreds of ceramists had sent several shards each, it would not
have been enough. We needed a great mass to cover an area that could be
called a carpet; in order to eliminate any possibility that viewers might
glimpse the floor underneath, we were aiming for a depth of at least 15
cms. I had two volunteer assistants, Janet Hill and Martha Orr, both about
to enter their final year of studying ceramics. They put containers in the
ceramics studios with notices requesting that from now on no-one should
throw anything away. Two other university ceramics departments fol-
lowed suit: the University of Wales Institute at Cardiff, and the University
of Glamorgan; in due course both delivered crates full of breakages. Every
so often the contents raised a chuckle, as when we discovered a box full
of misshapen ducks. Many students expressed approval that we would
be recycling their waste, but in truth, that was a secondary consideration,
although it has become more significant on reflection.
Some ceramists delivered their shards in person and the fullest story of
the installation would include the conversations that ensued: what went
wrong, the tone of regret, the frustration somehow embodied in the flawed
article; for though all brought objects destined for the dustbin, they were
often handed over more or less intact. Im not happy with this, someone
would say, please smash it. At first we were taken aback at what seemed
rather like catharsis by proxy, but we developed a perverse kind of con-
fidence and entered into an orgy of destruction. Indeed, our temporary
insanity attracted others and when the day came that we assembled our
materials in the gallery, we were surrounded by a horde of extras who
displayed a manic delight in reducing crate loads of pottery to rubble. We
sorted as we smashed and gradually accumulated mountains of broken
pieces, graded in terms of their suitability for base, middle or surface.
Not much more than a week before the installation was due to be
opened to the public the process of laying the carpet began. A fine
CeramicsTECHNICAL No. 28 2009
straight border was impor-
tant to contain and control
the variegated chaos of the
shards. We used a simple
rectangular wooden frame
screwed together at the cor-
ners so that each side could
be slid away horizontally
without disturbing the edges
of the carpet.6 (illus) The size
of the finished installation was
421 x 188 x 15 cm. Employing
a construction method akin
to dry stone walling, much of
the foundation layer and all
the bottom outside edges were built of biscuit fired red earthenware. Above: Shards (Detail). 2008.
We had received a crate-full and figured that being less slippery than
glazed ware, it would have more staying power. It also acted as an effec-
tive visual anchor, an aesthetic grounding. No adhesive of any sort was
used; treading the shards into the frame helped to bind them together
but the finished piece was a balancing act. The middle bulk of the carpet
was the mundane flotsam and jetsam of ceramics studio production: all
those experiments that didnt quite come off, as well as a vast quantity
of glaze tests. The top, most visible, layer consisted of all the celebrity
shards in amongst the widest and most colourful variety of surfaces
and shapes from the rest. During the smashing and sorting process my
assistants and I separated out anything and everything that caught our
fancy and reserved it for the surface of the carpet. The speed with which
we came to know individual fragments and remember their location
was a revelation.
Although it may look like barely contained chaos, there was little
accidental about the finished piece. Every inch of surface was brushed
free of dust so that it gleamed and what at first glance appeared
random did - I hope - reveal rhythms and occasionally motifs on fur-
ther contemplation. Emmanuel Cooper, for instance, has been a sup-
port and inspiration to many ceramists over the years. His shards were
laid in a rainbow shape. Stephen Dixon sent substantial remainders of
three plates, which were greeted with squeals by my students. Bearing
in mind how much his work was admired, I laid one of the plates on top
of the carpet and just tapped it with a hammer.
On the gallery wall I posted a list (in alphabetical order) of all who had
contributed shards. Students joked that henceforth they would be able to
claim that they had exhibited alongside all of the luminaries whose names
appeared. Further entertainment ensued when the installation was open to
the public, from watching visitors read the list and then attempt to locate
the celebrity shards. My assistants were sworn to secrecy.
Shards had a documentary aspect; it afforded viewers the opportunity
to survey a broad range of ceramic surface effects produced at a partic-
ular moment in time. It could also be regarded as a snapshot of my con-
nections in the ceramics world, since unsurprisingly I am personally
acquainted with many of those who contributed. Despite the fact that at
time of this writing the carpet no longer exists (we shovelled everything
into a skip on 29 August 2008), further layers of meaning continue to

CeramicsTECHNICAL No. 28 2009 93

 emerge.7 The mass of
shards evoked, how-
ever fleetingly, a sense
of the sublime and
perhaps there was, as
some viewers have
suggested, a relation-
ship with minimalist
sculpture, although
that was not a delib-
erate ploy during the
process of develop-
ment and construc-
Above: Shards. 2008. tion. It has also been pointed out that the Shards carpet can be situated
Photo by Martin Thomas. in a continuum of sculptural carpets, such as Felix Gonzalez-Torres
carpet of wrapped sweets (untitled Placebo 1991)8.
It is worth remembering that the installation was constructed in
response to a university symposium.9 In many ways, for an academic
such as myself, Shards was like giving a paper. This was my comment
on the ceramic surface and I hope that on the day it wasnt really neces-
sary to know exactly how it was put together; I like to think that it made
a visual statement and expressed something beyond all of these words.
Although the Shards carpet was my conception I knew how I
wanted it to look and I orchestrated its construction from beginning to
end ultimately its success was the result of a concerted group effort;
tangible evidence, I want to suggest, that the notion of craft commu-
nity is a sound one. I plan further explorations of this nature. I intend
to make a net or perhaps a suspended grid of buttons. Readers are
invited to send me one button each. It should have at least two holes in
it, should not measure more than five centimetres in diameter and can
be as simple (or as complicated) as you like. As before, we will display
a list of names of all contributors. Please post a button to: Dr Jo Dahn,
Bath School of Art and Design, Sion Hill, Lansdown, Bath, England,
BA1 5SF.

1. The First Emperor; Chinas Terracotta Army British Museum, London 13/9/07 6/4/08.
2. Idea and Act II Ceramics Symposium, BSAD July 27th, 2008.
3. Susan Hiller, Fragments installation 1978, in Vincentelli, Moira Women and Ceramics: Gendered
Vessels, Manchester University Press 200; p.257.
4. At the time of this writing, the web cameras have been removed as the gallery is about to be
relocated.
5. Hobbis, Peter The Value of Crafts in Harrod, Tanya (ed) Obscure Objects of Desire, London
Crafts Council 1997, p.37.
6. The frame was built by BSAD Ceramics Technician, Tim Wright, to whom I am very grateful.
When the moment came to remove it, I held my breath but it worked!
7. A skip is an industrial size rubbish container; I did keep a selection of the celebrity shards.
8. I am grateful to Moira Turner, PhD student at BSAD for alerting me to this work.
9. Idea and Act II Ceramics Symposium, BSAD July 27th, 2008.

Jo Dahn, PhD, is the gallery curator at Bath School of Art and Design and Senior Lec-
turer in Ceramics History and Theory.

94 CeramicsTECHNICAL No. 28 2009