Toronto-based artist Wendy Walgate is definitely educated in the arts. She received her BFA from the University of Manitoba, where she studied ceramics and printmaking. At Cranbrook Academy of Art she earned a MFA in ceramics, and then did a masters in the history of art at the University of Toronto. Well, all of that hard work definitely paid off because her work is absolutely stunning! Her ceramics have been exhibited (and purchased) all over the world—Toronto to Montreal, Brussels to Dubai, Miami to New York, and countless other stops along the way.
JC—When did you know that art was the right choice for you?
WW—During my first year at University of Manitoba, my rather stern drawing teacher had us do gesture drawings of a model. He marked this series of drawings and, a couple of weeks later, I walked into his classroom and my drawings, alone, were pinned up on an entire wall. He told the class that this was the way to do a gesture drawing. That certainly validated my choice of taking art.
JC—Why are you an artist?
WW—Because I can’t do anything else. For financial reasons, I’ve done administrative work, service work, film industry work—and nothing lasts for long. The only place I can sustain my interest, a feeling of accomplishment, and longevity is in the studio, making things.
JC—Is there a particular artist that you admire?
WW—The German artist Katharina Fritsch is my idol. I love the monumental scale and striking color of her work, along with the iconic objects she produces.
JC: How long have you been working with ceramics?
WW—I’ve worked with clay for thirty years—moving from stoneware to porcelain, then to earthenware. The lower firing temperature of earthenware allowed the use of vibrant colors and thicker, more spontaneous construction (that wouldn’t blow up in the higher temperatures firings!).
JC—Have you ever experienced a creativity-halting block?
WW—Oddly enough, I’ve being going through a big block over the last year. The style and technique used in ceramic work seems to be too repetitive now, and I feel that this series is finished. To move forward, I closed down my ceramic studio for a year, and now I’m renting in a collaborative space with other artists and starting to paint. I’m excited because I don’t know what the end result will be—it’s a mystery, and it’s hard to do. That’s probably a good thing.
JC—Did your inner critic have anything to do with this block?
WW—Once my inner critic gets going, there is no escape. Yes, when my ceramic pieces started to become familiar and too studied, the voice started: time to change—and how to do that? This dilemma went on for a couple of years until I acted, shut down my ceramic studio, and spent some time thinking about what to do next.
JC—Will your paintings be similar to the look and feel of your ceramics?
WW—Many of my ceramic pieces are about storytelling, particularly early children’s fables, Aesop, etc. The use of animals in my work is part of my interest in animal welfare and vegetarianism. Today I am thinking more about landscape, sky, and openness. After years of tightly packed work, I want to have expansion and breathing room in my paintings.
JC—Do you have any tricks you use if you’re having trouble with a piece?
WW—I usually start with color—either grouping monochromatic hues together or scattering many bright colors on the table in front of me. My ceramic pieces are built incrementally, and the gradual addition of colors on top of each other is a really exciting development to watch.
JC—Do you ever equate your self-worth with your artistic successes?
WW—Because I was older when I took the MFA at Cranbrook, the progression of my work was the most important thing to me. I had worked at many jobs and studios before I had the opportunity for graduate study. Getting into exhibitions and having my work noticed by galleries came naturally after my work reflected a mature and solidified idea.
JC—What is your advice for handling criticism?
WW—Go with it, and try to understand why it’s being said about your work. I’m no genius and my work is only a reflection of my quirky insides—you just can’t take offense at what others think.
I’m no genius and my work is only a reflection of my quirky insides—you just can’t take offense at what others think.
