Form + Function

The art of creation can be a full-body experience. It’s one of the aspects of ceramics that local artist Luke Bryant finds most rewarding — using his person to make something that can be enjoyed functionally for seemingly endless years to come. We recently sat down to talk to him about his history in the arts, his practice and how he approaches his work.

What began your artist journey?

I guess, growing up, I wouldn't say I was super inclined for art, but I always enjoyed it. I mean, I took the classes you had to take, and so I always had a good time, but it was just pretty basic stuff. And throughout elementary, middle and high school, I continued to do just that. I didn't really come from a super artistic family or anything, but they were super supportive. It wasn't until I would say maybe late in high school that I just filled my electives with art classes — I didn't want to take gym, so I just took more art classes and there were some ceramic offerings. I enjoyed them.

But from high school, I didn't think I would be doing what I am doing today. When I went to undergrad (at South Dakota State University), I started out as a horticulture major, so I wanted to do plant science, and that was 18-year-old me having to choose right away. I found after a year and a half, I enjoy plants and gardening more as a hobby than I do as a full-fledged career. So I was at the same time taking electives again as art credits. I took a couple of drawing classes and a ceramics class. I decided to switch majors and got my undergrad in studio arts. I took all the ceramics classes I could — that was kind of what I enjoyed the most at that time. But it wasn't until senior year that I was kind of twiddling my thumbs and thinking, “Okay, what am I going to do now?” There wasn't really an education path for me teaching at a high school. I didn't take art ed, so I had to ask myself, “What do you do with the studio arts degree?”

What was your artist track post-undergrad?

I went to grad school out in Bloomfield Hills, Mich., which is in metro Detroit. But I attended a really small art grad school of just about 150 students, Cranbrook Academy of Art. It included a K-12 boarding school and the grad school shared a small area of the campus. I really buckled down and two years of that was just spent doing a lot of studio practice. The way the program’s set up there is different from other graduate universities with art programs. Essentially there's no curriculum. It's more of a studio practice-based curriculum. So you walk into maybe a cubicle kind of space, and you have a desk and a shelf, and then you pretty much have to fill it with whatever you have, buy your materials and supplies and tools, and then you just start making work. There were weekly critiques and critical theory segments throughout the semesters, but most of it was just figuring it out — figuring out how to make work in an environment that doesn't provide you with it.

We had one teacher or one professor for the 16 of us first- and second-years, and he wasn't giving demos or showing us how to do this or that. It was more so that he was there to help guide critique, just facilitate the overall flow of that studio. And so I think I can attribute a lot of my efficiency or studio practice to the two years there, because it set me up to make in a space when you don't have anything provided to you or given to you.

Credit: Dan Thorson

What brought you back to Sioux Falls, and where did your practice get started?

I spent two years at Cranbrook, graduated and then moved back home (to Sioux Falls) in 2019. I was ready to get back to it. I would say it probably took a full year to get up and running to a point where I'd be making work — with ceramics, there's a high cost of equipment. I was fortunate enough to get my wheel for free, since it used to be broken and I fixed it. But then the biggest thing is a kiln, obviously. At grad school, we were firing in $60,000 kilns you could park cars in. And so I was used to a quiet life of luxury. What I ended up figuring out was, at the Washington Pavilion, there's open studio. They've got a cool clay studio down there. Mercedes (Maltese), who was the previous instructor, was really nice and was helpful to me. I was volunteering for her, recycling clay and such. She was trying to pursue other things and I thought, “Well, I could take over.” And so for the last two, maybe two-and-a-half, years I have been running the ceramic studio at the Pavilion, teaching classes, private lessons and then just facilitating the process of making work move through the studio.

Essentially, I make everything here (in my home), and carefully drive it all the way to the Pavilion to fire. But what's really nice about being back in Sioux Falls is, in the couple of years I’ve been back, I go to the openings at the local galleries and it’s helped me gain some momentum. I feel like I always have a project or working on a commission that someone's asking me to do. I had been unsure of coming back. What am I going to do in the Sioux Falls arts community? But now I don't really have that question. I would say I'm not fully sustaining myself or anything like that. I work two other jobs, but it's been really, really giving to me, I would say, which is awesome. And there's a lot of really awesome people that I could thank because of that. 

What drew you to ceramics as your primary medium?

I used to do a lot of drawing. But I’d say ceramics for me is more engaging. You kind of have to be fully present with it. There's no passive this or getting into that. It's very physical and I like that I have to actually use my body to make or produce things. I think it's very rewarding to have things that you can not just physically have as décor, but utilize as functional dinnerware. To me, it's great. Say I need a new planter — I'll just go make one. And so I feel like that's maybe one side of it — I see the physical presence and I get to enjoy and use it so much versus maybe a stagnant framed object on a wall or something like that.

I also think it's just ridiculously interesting. There are so many infinite things you can do with it. It's been around forever. It's going to be around forever. There’s such a crazy world of what you can do materials-wise, technique-wise, situationally — anytime I think I have something dialed in, whether it's a finish or a glaze, it's always a surprise. It can be frustrating, but I also think it's kind of exciting at the same time. It keeps me guessing. Keeps me wondering.

Credit: Dan Thorson

How would you describe your style and artistic sensibilities?

I think aesthetically I run into more earthy, subtle, muted tones. I'm not much of a glaze guy. There's a time and place for it, though. If you make a cup, you’ve got to glaze it, otherwise you're just not clean or water-tight a hundred percent. I like a lot of raw clay. To me, I care more about the clay than I do the glaze most times. I lean into a lot of functional forms. Most of my work I do on the wheel, and so it's typically symmetrical forms. A lot of those forms kind of derive into functional things. I'm not a sculptural ceramic artist. I don't make giant work. I'm also limited to a 28-inch by 26-inch kiln right now. So there are some limitations.

But I'd say mostly just subtle reserved forms. A big thing in my work that I see are things that inspire me that translate into my work as textural qualities. I just like working with my hands, and it's enjoyable to make things with the clay. Adding textural components, just even ridge lines or just the raw grittiness of the clay itself — there are subtle surfaces that I'm attracted to and I don't really stick to one clay body. I bounce around. Right now I primarily have two, a brown and a white, but I like to use other ones — when I was at school, I was using high-fire, porcelain stoneware kind of bodies.

Where do you find the most demand for your functional ceramics?

I just got done doing 40 ramen bowls for Bread & Circus. That was kind of fun. I've never done a restaurant commission before. Otherwise, I made a lot of work for my wedding, too. Seventy-five centerpieces, 180, take-home ornaments. I've got some stuff for sale at Rose & Eugene, too.

Credit: Dan Thorson

What inspires you to create?

I’m super into the work I created (for a recent exhibition). It was kind of a break from commission works. I bought 300 pounds of clay and what I was doing was just putting pieces of clay on the wheel and kind of making choices and trying not to repeat them. Normally I'll have an intention in mind of what I'm doing with pieces. Typically, I feel like I throw in silence. I just like the humming of this wheel and being by myself. It’s easy to concentrate that way.

Speak to your recent exhibition, “Cold Finish,” at SDSU.

The work was unfiltered in terms of forms, more so just very free-flowing, not having parameters set already. I think the forms are fun, unique, playful. I was messing around with stuff that I never mess around with — extruders, some slab work scraps, stuff like that. The finishes are just kind of non-traditional. In the pottery world, there are a lot of traditional conventions that you can lean on or look to or just have as guidance. But I also think it's kind of lame at the same time because it creates expectations of how things have to be or what maybe is expected. I like to mess around in between both those things.

GalleryLuke Tatge