Zsolt Faludi Ceramicist

If I am working with clay anything can happen

Making has been part of my life ever since I can remember, which is a pretty long time. It comes as second nature to me! Consequently, I don’t do preparations, don’t draw, make no plans whatsoever; I don’t get inspired by nature, am not trying to rediscover my identity, draw attention to history or uncover past injustices, and I don’t aim at any influence on the current goings on, etc. – clay for me is a self-closed system. I just seem to get down to it and make. You could say I am a ‘zombie maker’. But in that case, you could also ask, ‘what happens to the work?’ Does that make it entirely empty, meaningless, itself a sort of ‘zombie-made’? Paradoxical though it may sound, however, I would say that the work isn’t less as a result, but more. When the onlooker looks on she may find that the work acquires its own independence, finds its own ground, and from out of its self-subsisting being an entire world is opened. How does that happen? I don’t really know, but my guess is: by the grace of the gods.