Belarus artist Alex Perlin and I collaborating in the studio on our work, “Pagoda — Lost in Translation.”
May 24, 2026
Since I last checked in a few weeks ago, it feels like a lifetime of creative process. Residencies tend to ramp up the intensity, and those of us that belong to the International Academy of Ceramics (IAC) had a May 20th deadline to get photos for the catalogues of our new works out. Kilns were humming and spray guns glazing. I actually spent 13 hours glazing on my own last Wednesday in what was likely one of two insanely beautiful blue-sky days – and the rest of the residents went to a swimming hole. But I have my Ocean Fields ready to show, in the end 27 pieces. The saggar clay is beautiful, but it crumbles apart, I will toss it in the wood kiln firing happening next week. I had originally thought to play with cyanotype image transfer on porcelain, alas my tests have failed, and this will be something to pick up in my new studio in the fall.
One of the highlights of the last couple of weeks has been a collaborative work with Alex Perlin, an artist from Belarus, who has spent a considerable amount of time in China – so much so that he speaks Chinese fluently. IAC members were invited to do an additional piece to exhibit for a Clay for Peace project. Alex’s studio is virtually next to Kay and me on the fourth floor of the residency building, and we worked on every single aspect of the project together. Alex knows all the local clays and the way they fire and behave with each of the in-house celadons. He’s a sculptor, and has a solo show on here right now. He had never done press-moulding. I had never glazed celadon. In the end, our work, “Pagoda – Lost in Translation” is a visual representation of the voice-print of the sound “Lost in Translation” turned on its ear so that the pattern appears like a pair of Chinese pagoda. We are all finding our way through so many nuances and not so subtle hurdles that get lost in translation here.
Pagoda — Lost in Translation
Last Saturday was one of the blue-sky days, and it was my 58th birthday. There are 14 of us here, and everyone came together for cocktails and snacks on our balcony. It was a boisterous gathering with Duran Duran serenading us. Some new local friends, Hasan and Maimoona came, as did a few of the Centre’s staff. The last time I felt so feted was my 50th birthday on the banks of the Humberside Park. Feeling grateful for community. People gifted me exotic fruits and scrumptious gluten free snacks. My roommate Kay surprised me with a celadon monkey – my Chinese zodiac, and the studio was decorated with balloons while Kay took me for a lovely late lunch.
The day before my birthday, Kay and I gave the artist talks in our shared communal kitchen area. I feel like I’m learning so much from the other residents – popping into their studios to see what they are up to, to bounce around ideas. I’m about to try glazing greenware with celadon because Yasmin from New Zealand tried it, and was really disappointed with the tightly knit lattice of the celadon that resulted, but I love it! I’m working on sugar cane fields with voice prints – anticipating about three meters of wall-work. I’m slip-casting seven pieces at a time, two to three pours a day, using local clays, marbling in a less fussy way than I have in the past, making “branches.” I’m planning to once fire and as is my instinct, allow most of the clay to speak for itself – peppering it with some of the fabled Longquan celadon.
It's been a joy to work with the sifu’s here – Master Lau presides over the glazing and kiln room area, and Master Jin is the chief chemist, guarding the recipes for his patent celadons, but always cheerful and happy to help. I have to say that AI speak mode translator is a God-send. I’m picking up some phrases here and there – but more from Alex than anyone else. Starting to make relationships with the people I see every day. The woman who makes my noodles in the morning, the sifu’s, the local kitties, and one or two fishermen.
Exploring exhibition options!
I’m still enjoying morning walks in the cool before the heat and humidity set in. It’s less than five minutes to get to the river’s edge in a quiet part of the river where local fishermen gather with waders in the water. I am doing my own chi gong in the shade when it’s not raining. The feel of the place is so different than the workaholic pressure of North American cities. Occasionally the culture park is full of school children, and one day a grade 11 class came and set up to paint all over the park. It feels like EVERYONE is out enjoying the evenings, walking, playing badminton, walking their dogs, playing with their kids, doing calisthenics, or aerobics or tai chi on the street. It’s a sleepy town, by Chinese standards, yet the people have soul, and there’s a feeling of welcome and playfulness. There is definitely a curiosity about us as foreigners, who generally travel in small groups or a pack. We have been stopped several times to have our photographs taken and selfies with people on the street. Young people and old alike. Everyone wants to know where we are from, we are the United Nations of ceramics: Canada, New Zealand, UK, Australia, Korea, Argentina, Brazil, Belarus, Russia, Spain, Serbia, Singapore.
That’s it from home away from home. One month to go – but all has to be packed and shipped well in advance, and I plan on a visit to the province’s capital Honguao on the way to Jingdezhen.
Heidi
