Female War I Am Pottery 01 2015 Apr 2026

In January 2015, a small studio on the edge of a coastal town became the crucible for something fierce and fragile: Female War I Am Pottery. Not an exhibition so much as a statement, it gathered women makers whose hands remembered both tenderness and conflict. The title—at once declarative and oblique—invites a listen: “Female. War. I am. Pottery.” Each word a shard, arranged until a shape emerges.

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Artists in the show took materials as language. Reclaimed clay from demolished kitchens carried stories of meals and arguments; slip cast pieces borrowed molds from domestic ceramics, then distorted them so a teacup became a helmet or a milk jug grew a slit like a mouth. Text appeared as incised lines—snatches of overheard phrases, names, the word "enough" repeated until it dissolved into texture. Some pieces incorporated metal: wire sutures sealing a fractured rim, rivets holding together a rim like armor. Others embraced fragility—paper-thin porcelain stretched so light it trembled beside a rough, unglazed bowl heavy with damp. female war i am pottery 01 2015