I see clay as a material with its own will. It reacts, resists and forces me to respond. After years of working digitally, that feels liberating. I can act directly, without systems limiting my choices.
I build by hand because it gives me full physical control while still allowing room for unexpected moments. I keep traces visible because they show what has happened. Texture is essential to me. You see the surface of the work, but you also feel it.
My work balances between baroque excess and the raw mass of clay. The porcelain details reinforce that tension. The baroque side represents playfulness, abundance and the embrace of kitsch, as a counterreaction to smooth, minimalist digital aesthetics. The other side is the material itself: clay that cracks, dents and sometimes refuses to obey.
My starting point is always sculptural. Function can be part of the process, but it never dictates the form. Lamps and tables retain deformation, tension and material irregularity rather than industrial symmetry.
I am interested in the moment when control shifts into unpredictability. When a glaze flows further than expected. When gravity changes the form. These are the moments when a conversation with the clay begins. These shifts are not mistakes. They raise questions. Do I accept this interference. Do I let go. Do I correct it. Or is this exactly what the work needs.
My practice is a dialogue between intention and material, between ornament and raw energy, between precision and chance. The result is work that combines strength, texture and playfulness. Although the clay is dark and heavy, the pieces often feel light, joyful and alive. That tension shapes my visual language and makes each work unique.
