COCOON [Co' coon|\ kəˈkun ]

A CONVERSATION WITH THE ARTISTS OF FELT + CERAMICS

Sharon Ho and Christa Smith of Felt + Ceramics studio are proof that dedication to and reverence for a chosen material leads to profound artisanship. Christa, a longtime islander, who has been spinning and dyeing wool since her early twenties, found felting in her late thirties and began sculpting the material without the use of stitching. Sharon is an artist working with ceramics, photography, and assemblage, initially in Singapore before making the decision to live on Orcas Island eight years ago. Although they barely knew each other five years ago, Sharon and Christa admired each other’s work and were inspired by the idea of opening a shared workspace on what they called “a whim.” That whim has led Sharon and Christa to create a series of stunning works at Felt + Ceramics studio, where hundreds of visitors have had the opportunity to observe their process and view their work in person. When Ōde co-founder, Sara Farish, and I sat down to conceive this book, we dreamed of having these two artists and friends collaborate on a project to highlight in these pages. Their unique and visually alluring exhibit, COCOON, was birthed from that idea and is the first time they’ve collaborated on a specific theme. We stopped by their studio on a rainy Friday morning to chat about their new collection.

ŌDE: A cocoon can mean so many things to so many different people. I have an inexplicable fear of moths, so for me, a cocoon can be a frighteningly claustrophobic proposition.

SHARON: The symbolism of the cocoon [and the chrysalis] has rich relevance at many different stages of our lives. For me, personally, it’s not scary, but has to do with the unknown and giving up control to that unknown.

CHRISTA: I think it also represents the process of going inward to shed layers and find potential. A unique individual expression that is newly manifested. In a sense, our island environment allows for this. 

SHARON: We had asked a lot of people about what Orcas Island meant to them when we were contemplating creating works for Ōde. When people described living here, they used phrases like: in a bubble, protected, sheltered, a new start… What I sensed was that many people come here and see the chance to reinvent themselves or transform their lives.

CHRISTA: That’s what sparked the idea. So much of the process for these pieces was about transforming the original material, adding layer upon layer to discover or invent something, then removing some of those layers to create the metamorphosis you want.

ŌDE: What a fantastic metaphor for life.

CHRISTA: I totally agree. The cocoon really is a perfect symbol for personal process and growth.

ŌDE: Supposedly, a caterpillar actually disintegrates in its cocoon, but all its essence remains there. That essence then transforms into a moth or butterfly. So many fellow islanders and artists describe destroying things from their past to find their new selves.

SHARON: We also have a protective quiet on this island that can be important to the artistic process.

ŌDE: As you brought up earlier, the letting go of control can be transformative, especially in art. Although to what degree one should let go, the balance of control or thinking vs. feeling, is something that all artists constantly battle.

SHARON: As a ceramicist, I accept that I can’t really totally control the clay. I know the form that I’m heading for, but I never know exactly where I’m going. It’s literally nothing but mud in front of me. After I play with it, shape it, I put it in the kiln, and the intense heat vitrifies it, transforms it once again. But honestly, whatever comes out of the kiln is always a surprise to me. I will never be able to completely predict the outcome.

CHRISTA: What I love about working with textiles, especially felted wool, is that the way I perceive a piece constantly changes. To the point that sometimes, I’ll take a previous piece and add more layers to transform it into something else entirely.

ŌDE: Sharon, I love that you have these unexpected stitches incorporated into some of your ceramics for this collection and how that addition is perceived in so many different ways by people. I saw them as sutures, keeping things together. Most likely because a loved one recently had to get stitches.

SHARON: My mom was a seamstress in Singapore, so I’ve always been drawn to sewing. I love that the stitching has evoked a visceral reaction from people who’ve seen them.

ŌDE: Do you think that working in a dedicated studio, especially one in the heart of Eastsound, has elevated your art? SHARON: Absolutely. Having space is freedom.

CHRISTA: I was working out of my home before with kids, and that was such a challenge. On a practical level, a studio allows me to do more. On another level, it inspires me to focus on my art. Sharing a studio space with another artist keeps me inspired and I love seeing how our works play off of each other.

ŌDE: Your studio is an open one. What’s it like to create art as locals or strangers mill about you?

SHARON: I enjoy interacting with people who walk in, and I appreciate their questions. My favorite thing is hearing the personal stories that are prompted by the art in our studio. There was a Waldorf teacher who said one of my ceramics reminded her of a song from her childhood, and she proceeded to sing it. Recently, a man played his harmonica for me. I even had a customer who was moving off-island leave me Persian jewelry that he hoped I could incorporate into my art someday.

CHRISTA: A few years ago, another islander brought me medicinal mushrooms known as Turkey Tail. It took me two years, but I found a way to incorporate them in my piece entitled: “Night Whisper.”

SHARON: It’s inspiring and reassuring when people interact with the art. That means at the very least that they are having a reaction to it, it moves them. And, that moves us.

More photos in Ōde.