The Quirky Uncanny: Ceramic Sculpture by Klara Kristalova

Klara Kristalova, The Sleepless (2011), glazed stoneware and porcelain

Klara Kristalova, The Sleepless (2011), glazed stoneware and porcelain

Between my new enthusiasm for Robert Gober and recent introduction to Gregor Schnieder’s Dead House u r, I am full up on the uncanny, whether you consider it “the name for everything that ought to have remained hidden and secret and has become visible” or the familiar made strange through repression (for both ideas, see Freud’s The Uncanny). Sweden-based artist Klara Kristalova creates ceramic figurines of people, animals, and the hybrids in-between that call on the lighter, quirkier side of the uncanny, where the strange and secret might yet be a friendly force.

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Birdwoman, 2013, glazed stoneware

Kristalova’s  playful work suggests childhood fairytales and fantasies come true, but with a disturbing erosion of natural boundaries and identities. I saw work by the artist recently at the Norton Museum, where the images below were taken, but the artist is represented stateside by Lehmann Maupin gallery. These works recall, in form but also in whimsy, Meissen porcelain figures writ large. I really enjoy the tactile quality of the material itself, and how the handmade aesthetic suggests these subjects are somehow personal to the artist. At the same time, each figure seems to contain its own animus, so that I empathize all the more with its uneasy relationship to this world.

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Excuse my language (and blame the Met)

but the Met has discovered the orginal ‘dickhead’. As I said, excuse the language. But it’s not my language, it’s on this plate. Look closely at the head.

This Renaissance Italian plate from 1536 is inscribed:

OGNI HOMO ME GUARDA COME FOSSE UNA TESTA DE CAZI
(Every man looks at me as if I were a dickhead).

Part of the exhibition Art and Love in Renaissance Italy, this example makes me wonder what exactly the curators are trying to communicate about love. The rest of the exhibition is safer, with some more stereotypical Venus and Cupid paintings and less phallic ceramics.
I would speculate that there are some angry females on the staff at the Met, except really, when else could you slip such an amusing piece into a show? Unless they devoted a show to phallic art, and goodness knows with all those Greek vases there is more than enough material. It makes me wonder what else the Met have stored in dusty corners of their warehouses.