By hand: how one man shapes vessels and notes
By Jenaye Antonuccio (photo by Sherry DiBari)
Jeremy Wright tells a story -- with his hands.
“I tell my story through music and clay and art,” explains Wright, an artist and musician. “There is not just one medium to say it through.”
Whether manipulating the physics of clay or playing out songs by ear, he has an idea what he’d like to convey, observes what he sees and hears in the world around him, and then adds his own story.
“Molecules of clay are all connected – it is like pulling a chain to circulate those molecules to add strength to your pot,” he says. “Musicians listen and hear emotion in their song and harness it, making a sound sculpture. But it is all connected to a huger world of the person -- where that person has been, where that person has collected all their information and brought it into this.”
He recall that as a child, he was often drawing and engaged in mechanically-minded tasks. Discovering the potter’s wheel and the blues, he eagerly learned more about both through hands-on, old-fashioned methods – observation and experimentation.
Wright remembers, “I would go for it, because I was having fun experimenting.” He notes, “If you hold yourself back, you are not going to learn.”
His natural propensity forged a path of creating that, through many turns, would eventually lead him to Athens.
While living in Maryland, his uncanny abilities caught attention of master pottery teachers, which lead to apprenticeships. Coupled with that were several invitations to play with blues greats. One such example: Wright’s playing impressed harmonica teacher Walt Linager (the class was playing A harps, and Wright only had a C – yet somehow he duplicated the notes) to such an extent that he invited Wright onstage while performing with legendary Piedmont-blues style guitarist, Etta Baker, who died in 2006.
“She played like a 16 year old with her hair on fire - her fingers were going crazy,” remembers Wright. “I was standing there, playing the harmonica, chugging along. When I came offstage, I felt like I wasn’t even touching the ground. Later, she shook my hand, gave me a hug, said I was good and hoped I kept up with it.”
That he did, but he also kept up with his other love.
For three plus years in Athens, he has chosen to hone his craft in ceramics – as a student and a teacher. He earned an associate arts degree in art marketing and design from Hocking College last June. His senior show featured combined techniques - Iroquois jugs with manipulated clay false facemasks rising out of the form.
Currently enrolled in the general art program at Ohio University, he is ready to apply for inclusion into ceramics specialization this spring. “School has taken me out of the norm – my own norm,” says Wright. “I’ve done things for so long in my art world, that I need this break from my traditional settings and solitude to be with other artists.”
Wright espouses the idea that his secrets and techniques aren’t meant to be kept. Having taught numerous workshops and classes, most recently at the Dairy Barn this winter, he says he enjoys teaching. “I want to show and share what I know - I am always more than happy to help people get to that next level.”
According to Wright, teaching kids means being ready with the next step before their short attention spans are lost. Adults need to be reminded of possibility. “When you see the little epiphany in their head as they learn a new technique,” explains Wright, “It is in that instant where art lives - in that infinite possibility. It is very exciting to help them to get to that point.”
When he centers clay on the potter’s wheel, Wright says anything can be made from that foundation – all forms open up the same way. Pulling up the walls, Wright asks himself, “What kind of vessel am I making?” Take, for example, a mug. “What are people really looking for when they reach for their favorite mug? If it is not there, you look for the next best one, or the next best one.” He continues, “So, it becomes a ritual in your life - the beginning and the ending of your day. You take that first sip from your favorite mug, and somehow you feel just a little bit better.”
Spring’s warmth means that most Saturdays, Wright explores his love for music at the Athens County Farmer’s Market. Amid abundant produce and bustling shoppers, Wright plays guitar, Native American flute, harmonica, and is also skilled with a set of “rhythm bones”. Bones were originally fashioned out of animal rib bones to produce a clackity-clicking rhythm. Wright, after witnessing their effect at a blues concert, crafted his own out of red oak and cherry wood. Then, he learned to play them while taking long, long walks, meting out new rhythms along with his footsteps.
“The farmers market is a wonderful atmosphere,” he says. “People park their strollers in front of me, a few parents hang out. I try to keep variety in my repertoire so that I can sit there for three hours and not play the same song.”
Wright sells his wares and his CD of original Native American flute compositions, called “Breath for Creator”. But for him, selling is not the end goal. “Sure, it is good to make money and be comfortable,” he says, “but if you are not comfortable in your heart and your soul, it’s not worth it. You have to follow what you love.”
Wright, with ancestry of Northwest Plains Cree, says he sees his creations as expressing his roots, being a vessel through which tradition is summoned and cast forth into the pieces. “I lead with my heart,” he notes, “and try to figure out what it is I want. And that is art, that is what I followed - making things.”
