With Clay

COR Journal Volume 02.

With Clay

Earth—
it nourishes all life, and bears the weight of civilization.
To lift a handful of soil
is to touch the warmth of the ancient world.
Soft between the fingers,
it finds its shape in fire.
Clay, born of earth and flame,
shaped into vessels for water,
into li for cooking,
into dou that carries reverence.
It walked with early life into settlement—
first as sand-tempered redware,
fired at low heat,
rising with the smoke of hearths,
a quiet companion to humankind’s earliest meals and brews.

COR Sound (叙声 Xù Shēng)

Like bare feet upon gentle earth,
palms feeling the warmth of soil—
in slowness,
a quiet resonance awakens within,
soft and still.

COR Glyph (叙字 Xù Zì)

The oracle bone script characters for 豆dòu (footed bowl), 酒jiǔ(wine), 鬲lì (tripod),皿mǐn (vessel), and 土Tǔ (earth) echo like the voice of the land—bearing the weight of ancient labor, ritual, cooking, and reverence, they speak of the traces and warmth of early life.

Dou,
an ancient vessel with a lofty stem,
cradling offerings and reverence.
Its slender form, like hands lifting stars,
its bowl brimming with grains and heartfelt wishes.
At ancestral feasts,
it speaks of harvests and joy.

Wine,
Fiery and bold,
sealed in clay, mellowed by time.
It flows between ritual and revelry—
nectar for the heavens,
libation for the soul.
A single drop upon the earth
can stir the dust of memory,
and awaken the long-silent past.

Li,
With three steadfast legs,
it stands like roots of the earth,
anchored in the smoke of daily life.
Flames kiss its bronze and clay,
lifting ancient broths into steam—
a warmth that lingers,
through a thousand winter nights.

Min,
A silent vessel,
holding water, holding grain—
holding time itself.
The marks upon its walls
carry the hush of hands that once held it.
Each curve a quiet reflection
of tenderness in ancient days.

Tu,
The mother of all things,
gathering rain, cradling life.
To hold a handful of soil
is to touch
the warmth of the ancient world.

COR Dialogue (叙谈 Xù Tán)


As fingertips glide across clay, the folds of time and traces of memory quietly emerge. The encounter with ceramic artist Enriqueta Cepeda felt like
stepping into a whispered poem.
Her creations — asymmetrical vessels — speak a profound language of femininity, nature, and inner order. Each pinch and polish is a silent dialogue with the earth; each piece, a tender response between soil and soul.

Your works are mostly created using hand-building techniques such as coil building and pinching. What special significance does this approach hold for you?


These old techniques give the freedom to shape completely freely and give life to the objects. They become asymmetrical but at the same time they must have a balance. I never take commissions because I want to find the balance and try not to achieve a specific measurement. If I were to measure and work that way, it loses a lot of the feeling in the expression. There is a big difference between hand-building and turning or casting where you usually strive for a more precise shape.

When creating, do you strive for a certain sense of “perfection,” or do you embrace the spontaneity of the process?


I don't strive for perfection, more for balance and I let the clay control how it turns out and make the most of what comes out. There's a saying, theperfect imperfect. The Japanese ‘wabi sabi’ concept. Sometimes something unexpected happens when I'm working and it can give rise to acompletely new shape that I like and will work on further.

Your pieces exude a primal, tranquil sense of strength. How do you hope the audience interacts with or experiences them?


I think that comes from the balance that hopefully is in the asymmetry.
I see my vessels as art objects, not utility objects, but you can of course put a flower in a vase sometimes if you want (I do make them hold water).
But if you are going to get a vase for flowers, I think you should have a discreet vase and let the flowers “speak”.
I want my ceramics to be pleasant both to the eye and to touch with your hands.

How do you perceive the natural characteristics of clay? In your creative process, how do you engage in a dialogue with the material?


The clay is so amazing because it changes its character during the drying process. When you have kneaded the clay and start working, the clay is soft, when it starts to dry, you have to wrap it in plastic so that the drying process goes slowly and you can do different things with the clay at different stages of the drying process. During a certain period it almost has properties like wood. I sometimes use tools that are intended for wood then. When the clay is leather hard, for example, I can reveal the chamotte on the surface to obtain a rough feeling or burnish with a stone to make the surface shiny. The soft, shiny parts I will polish with beeswax after firing. I also like to use clay in different colors, white, black, red and sandcolors instead of using glaze. The clay has no limitations if you work at the pace of the clay, it is your imagination that sets the limit.

Is the relationship between humans and clay reciprocal? In shaping the clay, do you feel that the material is also shaping you?


Yes, maybe. I have probably adjusted my design/language a bit due to the possibilities that clay offers. If I were to work in another material, the design language would perhaps be different, but I love the properties of clay and want to work with it.



When working with clay, do you ever feel a sense of connection—to history, to nature, or to something beyond the present moment?


Yes, I think it is impossible not to think that people have worked with clay and shaped objects they need in everyday life throughout history. When hand-building was used,before the pottery wheel was invented, it was women's job to create what they used to eat, cook and so on. Later, when the pottery wheel came into use, potters became more of a male profession. In Latin America, for example, the wheel did not come until the Spaniards in the 15th century. People have always made different decorations on the clay, first with geometric patterns, later with different types of decorations using engobes, colored with different chemical compounds or different types of clay. I have looked a lot at the different ways people have decorated their objects. Smoothed, carved, etc. Yes, I can feel a connection to potters throughout history. When I work with the shape, I usually get into flow, as they call it, when time and space do not really exist, you get so into the work.


COR Matter (叙质 Xù Zhì)

Pottery script was inscribed onto vessels—sometimes scratched, sometimes carved—its marks rough-hewn, merging with the texture of clay.

Six thousand years ago, the Dawenkou people etched symbols onto their fine pottery: mountain-shaped lines, intersecting strokes, even figures resembling the oracle-bone script for “human.” These signs may have gazed at undulating mountains, marked clan belonging, or hinted at hidden orders
—inscriptions of ritual and mystery.

Long before oracle bone and bronze script, these pottery marks may have been among the earliest vessels of human thought. Simple incisions, a sleeping language in the soil, waiting for time to decipher the stories left unfinished.

COR Verse (叙句 Xù Jù)

捏一把泥土,捏出日与月,
窑火燃烧,化作人间光亮。

With a handful of clay,
the sun and moon take form.
Fired in the blaze of the kiln,
they rise—
as light for the human world.


— Zheng Chouyu, Clay and Fire

Clay, Fire, Script, Vessel —
in silence, all things find shape.

COR Journal by COR ORBIT Group