Carol Bolt: How did you return to ceramics? (Saya’s degree is in ceramics from the University of Washington, although she has been working in mixed media installations for a notable time since.)

Saya Moriyasu: Every time I answer this it’s a little different—because it’s not one thing but rather lots of different reasons. It first started as an impulse buy of that kiln—I wasn’t working in ceramics at the time but then I started doing the tests for the King County show. I thought I would just use up my reserve of clay and supplies. I had that show scheduled far enough out, so I had time to experiment; I didn’t intend on exhibiting them. As the show came closer I realized I didn’t really want to do an installation in the way I used to. I felt like this was the work that was more focused on where I was at the time. It became the illogical logical next step.

CB: Even so it seems very genuinely connected to the installation work in its use of space and the physical connection to the body.

SM: I was really interested in the body. Although, each time I was doing an install I was getting physically drained. It made a lot of sense to make the shift into working where not everything had to be made in the space. By the time of the King County show “Crowded Craft”, I was moving from a singular big thing to the littler pieces, doing the painting and making layers of them. Also, in taking care of my sister’s daughter Abby. When she was born she was so cute—she reminded me so much of the little Asian cutesy stuff. In hindsight that was a transition.

CB: There is that kind of a pure joy about this work . . .

SM: yea, those servers, so many resemble Abby as well as other faces I am taken with. I love to go to antique malls, that’s one of the things I’m really inspired by- the lamps and the lighting. It is production yet it feels like it’s the only one in the world. That style, the shade makes it special. With “Crowded Craft” and this work my stipulation was that everything in it had to be figurative or functional, you know, something that would be in Grandma’s cabinet. And with this work it’s a type of consumerism, about “class,” choices and production. When I was little I would see “hand painted” on an object and I’d look for the brush strokes. It was like some kind of connection, thinking about people making the work.

CB: Tell me more about how you see consumerism, class, and the idea of production vs. mass production and how that translates in your work.

SM: Some people might not consider a lamp “Art”; I see that as a class thing. Something that functions and that’s beautiful—they might respond by saying: “oh that’s a lamp and I can buy that” but I also like to look at it as functional. Consumerism. The impetus was to make a mountain in the gallery, like when you go into a store and there’s the product all piled up and so: “here it is!” As a consumer you would get that shopping high—all these things that you want when there’s so much selection. I think that we are somehow looking for our “selves” in the products that we ultimately choose. In this culture “consumerism” can be seen as evil, but yet we love it. I love it. How could a visual person not love choice? It becomes a very personal decision even in the midst of mass-consumerism and production.

CB: You mentioned earlier about your work being informed by being part Japanese, would you talk more specifically about that?

SM: I was finding that all the things in the antique mall that I was attracted to were “Made in Japan.” I would turn them upside-down and it would say, “Made in Japan,” so often they would be a sort of interpretation of western consumer tastes or knockoffs of higher-end European ceramics culture, but the Japanese object would be considered the lesser of the things. A copy of something made to look “European” has a certain something. The eyes are a little bigger, the expression more appealing. Much like how anime is popular today. It’s that filtering process of how what is attractive is translated by different cultures. I was brought up with finely crafted things like carved Kannon sculptures and with the other side too: crocheted snowflakes and other “crafty” things. I was raised seeing the overlap of what was in between. We had beautiful hand carved sculptures, and then we would have a Styrofoam wastebasket that my aunt had made for me. I have kept all those things—the orange afghans included! Each of my sisters and I had different colors. I think the work that I’m making now is the reconciliation of those potentially disparate places.

CB: Are there particular artists’ work that you look at in preparation for your studio work or an exhibit?

SM: Oh yeah, I go to the Antique malls—I look at all my Asian art books, temple art and nature (her cat Scroggins jumped into her lamp right at this cue) but not a formal looking necessarily. It’s more our culture as a whole that is my direct source.

CB: As a fine artist making works that some might consider craft would you talk about how you see the ongoing craft vs. art dialogue?

SM: I like that clay is just dirt—I just embrace that assumed low-ness of it. I definitely think what I’m making is "Art" AND it skirts around that edge and I like that. But a viewer will bring whatever they will to it—some will think about it and others will simply enjoy the work.

CB: You are a combination of what might be considered “contemporary” and “traditional”—in a fast-paced culture how do you slow things down in the studio and in an exhibition to get your viewer to also slow down and look?

SM: Everything is so much quicker- the cycle of what’s “in” and what’s “out”—it all changes so fast. I choose the surface, the craftsmanship, also the use of expression to slow them down to look.

CB: How much or in what way do you think it would change the work if it WERE mass-produced?

SM: I think it would be fine—but that’s not how I would choose to make my main body of art. As a product maker that would be fine. Later this year I am planning to edition “The Ghost Banquet Server” and “Portraits of Ladies” and make them available through Platform. In a way my work is a reaction to artists who have chosen to find their materials already made or collecting them. I feel more empowered by my own mass-production in a non-mass production way. Why not actually make everything cause you know AS artists we can make anything so why not do that?

CB: You are very prolific, what sort of process do you go through to edit?

SM: Well, some things don’t even make it to the firing, then there are pieces that make it through that but still might not quite fit because of an expression or scale or just simply not feeling "right." Like the "Cowgirl" she’s a strong piece but I’m not sure.

CB: (Laughing) Is there any irony or intention to the fact that she’s the most "western" out of the group?

SM: (Laughing) No, there’s a lot of blondes in there too.

CB: Your studio is a homey-installation itself—it seems a whole expression of the work not just a place that you DO the work (Saya built her studio and it is completed by sleeping cats, macramé owls and a crackling wood burning stove in the winter.)

SM: It’s a balancing thing, I try to hide the tools because I like it girly but I need them so they are around. I could be in here everyday—I love it.

CB: If you had friends coming to Seattle, what would take them to see?

SM: Lately I like to go to Maneki and the Panama Hotel. But I really enjoy the Arboretum, kayaking and walking around Volunteer Park Conservatory, too.

All content copyright 2010 Platform Gallery LLC and the artists.