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| photo by Emily Free courtesy of Carla Potter |
 Water works: Carla Potter, right, poses this summer with her then unfinished piece "Gushing Clown," from her "Shaping Desire" show, now at the Alaska State Museum through Nov. 18. "Layers of Desire," left, and "Forbidden Futility," center, are also on display. |
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The notion of sea creatures as fertility symbols is older than Aphrodite, so sculptor Carla Potter makes archetypical sense with the title of her latest show, "Shaping Desire."
Its centerpiece is a wedding cake 48 inches high and 25 inches in diameter. Mussels sprout from the top of the three-tiered sculpture, and barnacles, used like sugar confections, spell out words. It's called "Layers of Seduction."
"I wanted to express the vitality of a marriage or a relationship," Potter said. "The cake is inhabited by this octopus that's grabbing everything and pulling it into it. It's also about how procreation is our hope because it projects us into the future."
Potter's style of working with clay uses water and sea-life imagery that reflects her experiences growing up in Southeast Alaska.
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Art
Exhibit: "Shaping Desire."
What: A solo exhibit of ceramic sculpture by Alaska artist Carla Potter.
Where: Alaska State Museum.
When: Through Nov. 18.
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"I really became aware of the fact that it was a great resource for imagery and ideas for forms and color and expression for me," said the sculptor, whose show is in its last week at the Alaska State Museum.
The figures on another piece, "Cake Topper," are based on an ancient Greek statue of Apollo and offer a reference to homosexuality.
"It's part of life, it's part of nature, it's part of everything, and so the cake is reaching to bring (homosexuals) into this culture of marriage," she said. "But they're thigh-deep in swirling water to indicate their lack of control over that."
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| Brian Wallace / Juneau Empire |
| "Layers of Desire" is also on display. |
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Another piece, a perfume bottle, is oversized and overstated "because these things are marketed as being so vital to being attractive," she said.
A cluster of clay octopus eggs hangs on a strand in the corner of the museum. The piece, "Aurora's Hope," reflects the profusion of life.
"Octopus lay their eggs and hang them in these strands of hundreds and hundreds of eggs, and then the female octopus guards them for six months and starves to death, basically, in the process," Potter said.
"I just think it's really a noble creature and that's why I use the imagery of the octopus a lot in my work. They're amazing animals," she said.
If Potter's work centers on water, so do her emotions.
"Sometimes it's flat and calm, sometimes its raucous and wild, and I love to swim and be in it," she said. "So I realized it was really me expressing something about my environment, but also my emotional state."
After receiving her degree in Studio Ceramics at Humboldt State University in Northern California, Potter returned to Alaska and continued her work.
She's had eight solo shows in Alaska and has participated in 13 group shows throughout the Pacific Northwest. She received a Rasmuson Individual Artist Fellowship and spent 18 months in residence at the prestigious Archie Bray Foundation in Helena, Mont.
"I got to work and watch all these incredible professional people from all over the world making their work, and it really gave me a respect for myself and what I do, " she said.
Potter not only learned from the masters around her; she was able to share what she knew with her peers and be recognized for it.
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| Brian Wallace / Juneau Empire |
| "Forbidden Futility" is also on display. |
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As a teacher, Potter has worked as an artist-in-residence, believing that students need exposure to working artists.
"I feel like some of our best and well-trained artists need to work with young kids because if (the students) don't have experience with somebody that really understands and has a passion for what (art) is, they don't get as good of an education," she said.
Looking ahead, Potter is excited about her newer work: cluster pieces. She has spent hours casting hundreds of rounded forms, sanding and firing and re-sanding them.
"There's just something about those diaphanous things in the water," she said, alluding to sea squirts. "They're full and bursting with water. They keep their form suspended and keep their shape and there's just that relationship of something that grows in these clusters.
"It's like clusters of humanity, so I relate to them as little societies," she said.
• Teri Tibbett is a writer, musician and photographer living in Juneau.
