Akira Satake:
For me, the act of creation is a collaboration between myself, the clay and the fire. Collaboration means finding what the clay wants to be and bringing out its beauty in the way that the beauty of our surroundings is created through natural forces. Undulations in sand that has been moved by the wind, rock formations caused by landslides, the crackle and patina in the wall of an old house; all these owe their special beauty to the random hand of Nature. The fire is the ultimate random part of the collaborative equation. I hope the fire will be my ally, but I know it will always transform the clay in ways I cannot anticipate.
Barbara Zaretsky:
I’ve always been facinated with textiles and the influence they have on our culture. Inspired by the things around me—color, movement, light, nature, architecture and design—I am moved to create art for everyday use. Functional textiles can enhance our lives in subtle yet powerful ways—from expressing who we are to communicating emotion.
Brian Boggs:
At The Boggs Collective it is our passion to create beautiful furniture. Surrounded by beautiful and well-managed forests, we begin the creative process by selecting the right tree for your table or chair. Inspired by the forest itself we strive to create our work with a balance of sustainability, integrity, and art. Think of this as putting the tree back together so that in its second life its beauty and durability are honored. We do this to ensure that our clients receive the finest furniture our hands and hearts can produce. This is our way of celebrating life.
Barbara Fisher:
I’ve always been fascinated by what I can’t see. In a way it is ironic that I became a painter, rather than a philosopher or a psychologist (I considered both…). I learned the basic skills as an art student, but as I began to find my voice as an artist, I found that my proclivity to look inward overwhelmed any interest I once had in painting from life. I read a lot of philosophy and religion, looking for connections and clues. I explored mythology, symbolism and mysticism in different cultures – always curious about how the human impulse to create a visual language figured into a tradition. I read Jung, Gurdjieff, Aurobindo…trying to find some understanding of what all these unseen forces were. Always asking, could I, in some way, depict these ideas in paint? What does “mark making” mean to me? Could I discover and make sense of my own unique visual vocabulary ?
I’ve always been fascinated by what I can’t see. In a way it is ironic that I became a painter, rather than a philosopher or a psychologist (I considered both…). I learned the basic skills as an art student, but as I began to find my voice as an artist, I found that my proclivity to look inward overwhelmed any interest I once had in painting from life. I read a lot of philosophy and religion, looking for connections and clues. I explored mythology, symbolism and mysticism in different cultures – always curious about how the human impulse to create a visual language figured into a tradition. I read Jung, Gurdjieff, Aurobindo…trying to find some understanding of what all these unseen forces were. Always asking, could I, in some way, depict these ideas in paint? What does “mark making” mean to me? Could I discover and make sense of my own unique visual vocabulary ?
As I have watched my work evolve over the years, it has changed structure and format many times, stretching and morphing from series to series. But no matter what the paintings look like at any given time, these fundamental questions remain: how do forces interact with each other beneath the surface of what we see? Is each person’s perception of this unique? Can I really “paint what I see”?
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