Vallauris: The Emergence of a Popular Modernity. From Collection to Exhibition

The Meaning of Art

I shall start from the assumption/proposition that the meaning of a work of art is not 'in' the work itself, and is not accessible to us provided we acquire the 'correct' information (the 'truth of/about the work'); but, rather, that meanings change according to the time, the ways and the context/s in which the works are displayed, seen, apprehended and experienced.

I believe, rather, that 'meaning' (the so-called meaning 'of' the work) is — as in language — 'differential'; i.e. it arises from the interaction between an art work and all the others in which it stands in relation: physically (in a museum display or in storage) or in the mind (in the same category in which it is apprehended). 

Put more concretely the meaning of a work arises from the dynamic relations and interactions in which it stands with other works, and with us, potential viewers: in complex, 'open' semiological relations: 

 

Art Ceramics from Vallauris (1950-60s):

Thus, every curatorial juxtaposition between two or more works can generate specific, 'open' visual propositions in each of us, and elicit different responses, according to our resonance with 'the world of the work'.

Collecting

The motivation for collecting works of any kind can vary. Cost can determine our purchases. Thus, the hunt for 'bargains' at car-boot sales can generate accumulations of mediocre objects, which the collector overvalues; becoming, in the process, impervious to real quality.

A second motivation involves assembling a selection of art objects representative of the field as it is documented in books and public collections. According to this approach, the collector aims to gather as many works from the corpus that has been singled out by the cultural establishment as 'significant'. This amounts to re-writing a compact history of the art collected with objects. The amount spent on each object corresponds to its market value as set by auctions.

A third approach (facilitated by limited finances) focuses on quality, irrespective of reputation and official value of the works. It is by far the most adventurous approach, for it leads to discoveries. Unsigned pieces encourage this approach; for the induce us TO LOOK and focus on the form and materiality of the objects; instead of just 'ticking the (institutional) boxes'. 

I started collecting Vallauris ceramics to explore the rise of popular ceramics in the postwar decades: as a an expression of an affordable Modernity that could, potentially, reach into every home.

After mapping out the field  — with the help of the few precious publications available (J-C. Martin, A. Lajoix, P. Staudenmeyer…) — I set out to collect samples of the variety of styles and approachesthat I could afford; encountering in the process works that had escaped cultural mapping and resisted my attempts to identify their makers. 

Puzzled by some arbitrarily inflated prices for some mass-produced items by Roger Capron, intended for tourists, I steered away from conventional aesthetic hierarchies and set out as to ask again the question: 'What are we looking at?', to retain some objectivity in the face of fashions and auction results.

The recent decision to start selling my art collection on ebay, after a fifty year's life of collecting, led me to re-appraise these ceramics at the time of pricing them in the face of conventions.  

Exhibiting…

The idea of curating a ceramic exhibition by instigating a dialogue between two or more pieces — from different  countries, periods, cultures and styles — opens up 'new possibilities of being' for the works, and new modes of interpretation/appreciation for viewers; without  seeking to impose a final 'truth of the work'.

Vallauris: two strands of decorative ceramics from the same culture:  

Left: Laribé (Biot Pottery), Amphora-shaped vase (jand turned earthenware). 1950s.

Right: Bottle-vase in the shape of a face. Earthenware. Monogram. Vallauris. 1950s-60s.

Whereas, externally, the amphora on the left invites to be read as a vase; on closer observation, we note that the opening is too narrow to accommodate flowers and to enable the easy transfer of water; ie to function as a vase. What we are looking at, rather, is an object that stages the vase function: not functionally by aesthetically. 

Its heavy weight makes it suitable for use as a garden ornament. 

The piece on the right combines the form of an antique flask (which it could still be used as), with a stylised human face. Here too, the function of container only serves as a pretext to enhance the aesthetic function.

As part of the Vallauris post-war ceramics revival, several potters (Fernande Kohler, Alexandre Kostanda, Le Grand Chêne, etc.) made works that, whilst mimicking functional forms, 'deconstructed' them; making them unusable except as objects of contemplation.

 

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Ceramic Conversations

 

The blue vase (above left), by Paul Millet, was made in his Sèvres studio, at the beginning of the 20th century. Although inspired by eighteenth century Chinese or Japanese porcelain, its departure from the widespread taste for ornate decoration at the time, enabled it to express ceramic Modernity among progressive collectors. (Modernity as the 'regeneration' by other traditions; but at the opposite of 'chinoiseries' and other form of exoticism): by its refined, 'pure', lines and its subtle blue glaze resulting from the potter's ability to control the reactions and the effect of chemical oxides during firing.

 

Stylistically, it appeared 'Modern', because it echoed Adolf Loos's motto: 'Ornament is crime'.

Facing it, on the right, in the same cabinet, stands an unmarked Italian vase or lamp base, from the 1950s or 60s, in a style that stands half-way between the figures of Marcello Fantoni and the abstract concretions of Lucio Fontana.

In its rawness, it also recalls the creations of 'Art Brut', and may be read, in this context, as a 'deconstruction' of the vase on the left. By contrasts, it seems to celebrate the 'materiality' of ceramics instead of  taming it; clay and oxides. 

These two emblematic works open the exhibition by mapping out a field in which ceramic experimentation explored the medium: between illusion and materiality.

In France, unlike in Britain, the ceramic revival that followed the comparatively late collapse of the rural, semi-industrial potteries that, for centuries, had provided cooking and other kitchen wares, sprang from those same traditions, which it re-interpreted. The work of Robert Picault evidences this trend: producing ceramics that could be used both in the kitchen and on the table, without any embarrassment.

Using the same clays, materials, kiln and firing techniques as his predecessors, Picault started from that very legacy which he revitalised; taking it into Modernity.

Made obsolete by the spread of stronger and cheaper industrial ceramics, produced in large factories such as Longchamp and Sarreguemines, and with the introduction and spread of aluminium in the manufacture of kitchen wares (milk pots, coffee pots, cooking pots, frying pans, etc.), the old potteries 

 

 

enjoyed a new lease of life at the hands of enthusiastic graduates who, like Picault (below) took them over to produce attractive usable decorative ceramics for the mass market.