Secret Still

I can count on one hand the number of potters and ceramicists I’ve featured over the last couple of years. It’s not that I don’t appreciate their work, I absolutely do, but that their work is more utilitarian, more hands on, which makes it simpler and yet more grand than my usual suspects. The work of San Francisco artist Diana Fayt actually incorporates enough illustration into each piece that I think it crosses far enough into the realm of “things I probably shouldn’t touch” that I am on firmer ground talking about it. Don’t assume that I mean art is anything that looks too delicate or expensive to touch. I think clouds are art. I am mostly and idiot and you really shouldn’t take me seriously.

Each of Fayt’s pieces is rough hewn, beauifully glazed, and features sketch-style drawings of various flora and fauna. I like her contrasting inner and outer glazes. They make each piece neutral enough to be displayed anywhere, but with enough of a color pop to still add some fun to a room. The best part of all: I can afford it. Mostly. I keep rooting all kinds of little plant cuttings that I have around the house, and maybe now I can plant them in something other than empty soup cans. I’ll finally be one step up from a hobo!

Diana Fayt

Most of the art that I find appealing is what is classified as low-brow art. That doesn’t imply that I’m a moron (although I’m sure the name was created to make most people feel that way), but rather that I don’t often get excited about art that requires more interpretation than is possible without a Ph.D. or art that could only be at home in a museum. There’s a reason for this: I don’t go to museums. I mean, I’ve been to them and I love them, but I don’t live close enough to any major museums to go often. What I do see often is my house. I see it every day. And most of my seeing it, the parts not concerned with TV, sex, food, or disgust with the state of it, is thinking about what I could do to make it look better. I’ve given up on my current house but I’ve been decorating my next one in my head, and so far it’s a nice place to live.

That’s why my taste in art is what it is. I like art that I can put in my house (the imaginary one). I like art that can live with me and vice versa. Welcome to low-brow though I hate using that term. The artwork of Lisa Congdon is wonderful, but it doesn’t ever need to be in The Louvre. It needs to be in my house. It skirts that gentle line between art and craft, between folk and garage. It makes me smile and feel warm and want to be wrapped in a blanket with only my head sticking out. I fucking love that. There’s dimension and well thought out color, as well as innocence and joy. There’s just no way to go wrong with that combination.

Peep her portfolio