Marianne Chénard - Céramiste

Cube | 2019

ceramics
18 x 20 x 21 x inches

Cube | 2020

ceramics
28 x 24 x 24 inches

My values, attachments, and sensibility to nature come with being aware of the impact humans have on their surroundings and the crisis emerging from their actions towards it. I soon realized that if I wanted to make art about human’s connection with nature and to bring attention to issues of climate change, I couldn’t continue blinding myself to the effect of my own art practice on my subject matter. Accordingly, I have decided to transform my relationship with the material, I considered waste in my studio practice. I first made a cube with all the discards of the year 2019, after recycling and reusing all that I could. I needed to visually and physically understand my waste production as an artist. I decided to repeat the act every year to promote and integrate a more sustainable practice. This decision guided me towards working with natural materials and to better evaluate the firing and materials involved in working in ceramics, the making of tangible objects, and my impact on the environment.

I started working outside

Drawing. Pine Trees | 2020

inkjet print on watercolor paper, kaolin, porcelain aged in the forest for 1 month. photography 44 x 63 inches, raw clay sculpture 36 x 24x 24 inches

La forêt est dense. Les fougères et les arbustes forment une masse, un mur vivant. Je cherche un point d’entrée, un sentier crée par un chevreuil ou une clairière tel une porte qui me permettrait de m’aventurer loin de la structure du chemin. Je marche. À ma droite, la masse s’ éclaircit, je m’approche et entre dans une grande forêt de pins. Les arbres sont solides, calmes et droits. La lumière pénètre à peine entre l’amas d’aiguilles ne laissant pas de place au jour pour quoi que ce soit d’autre puisse y pousser. Les teintes de gris dominent le paysage, c’est triste. C’est silence. Je marche entre les arbres. Le temps ralentit. Je m’ assois sur le paillis d’aiguilles qui s’assouplit sous mon poids. Je me sens petite. Je me sens protégé. L’odeur de la mousse, de la terre, des aiguilles et des feuilles moisies est forte. Je vais revenir ici.

The pine trees are tall, still, solid, and planted in a row. I entered the composition through the fallen tree on the right. To emphasize the dominant presence of the large trees and my body’s relationship to them, I drew a line with clay at my height. I approached each tree with the same brush strokes. It was time consuming, physical work. The physicality of the gesture connected me to the labor once exercised to plant these trees, which belong to the state land of Alfred, NY. The marking of each tree revealed their individuality and their united presence in the forest ecosystem. The white mark contrasted the monochromatic grey colours of the scenery. The drawing made by my actions flattened the image while creating a perpendicular line to the many lines made by the vertical trees. There were only glimmers of light entering the forest. The smell of dead leaves and pine needles was strong, making kin with silence to calm. The wind suddenly rose; Rain was coming. My drawing was slowly washed away by the rain. The work disappeared, leaving almost no trace. My ephemeral intervention illustrates a relationship with the natural element, which are the pine trees, the clay, and human beings. The trees stand still, in an organized matter, spaced like soldiers waiting for action, perhaps reminiscent of the human who planted them. My mark, the clay, was foreign to the forest. It evoked both singularity and unity, and so the entanglement of oneself with the natural environment and the past, the present, and the future.

Drawing. Fire | 2021

inkjet print on watercolor paper, wood, porcelain.

photography 43 x 67 inches, circle 72 inches in diameter.

Il fait froid. Le ciel blanchâtre se marie avec la neige de la colline y effaçant l’horizon. On y voit à peine les traces de coyote qui traversent le champs. C’est silence.J’entends chacun de mes pas qui échoent dans le vaste paysage. Je dépose méticuleusement chaque morceau bois sur la neige. Je répète le mouvement jusqu’à l’obtention d’un large cercle. Je suis seule. Les heures passent. Je finis et j’allume enfin la forme que je viens de créer. La force de la combustion me repousse. Je me dépêche à m éloigner du brasier ardent. Le son intense du feu perce le silence de l’hiver. L’odeur de fumé envahie l’espace. Je regarde, j’écoute.

The contrast between the warm colors of the burning fire with the whiteness of the hill and sky is striking. The sound of the combustion breaks the silent winter afternoon. I stand still observing the movement of the flames. The smell of the fire takes over the glacial air. I feel the energy from this strong element. I take clay that was buried in the forest for the making of the piece Drawing. Pine and pinch it with my hand, leaving an imprint, making a gesture. I throw the clay pieces in the fire. I draw with the flame. I repeat the action over and over. Some specimens retain the coloration of the flames, some from the heat, some crack, shatter under the pressure of the water expelled too quickly from the matter. The action of making handfuls of clay fragments echoes the repetitive actions of placing the wood pieces carefully in a circle, but foremost these mark-making anchors the act of creating. The clay which was once imprinted by the smell and the organic matters of the forest is being imprinted again by the wood in a different way, by its combusting, generating energy and power. The image of the circle brings forward the idea that this project provides an intersection for multiple cycles, one being a human relationship with the matter and elements; another is the cycle that the forests impose onto the clay.

Drawing. Glacier | 2021

inkjet print on watercolor paper, food-grade salt, beeswax, water, soda ash.
photography 36 x 72 inches, circle 72 inches in diameter.

Le vent est glacial. La marée est basse. En se retirant le fleuve a déposé de gigantesque glaciers sur la berge formant des crevasses et des plateaux glacés irréguliers. Cela fait maintenant plus de deux semaines que je visite cet endroit régulièrement et à chaque fois la composition des glaciers change. Je m’aventure avec précaution dans ce paysage fragmenté. Je dessine un large cercle avec du sel marin. Le temps presse la marée monte et bientôt ce sera trop dangereux et je devrai retourner sur le quai.

I draw a circle with salt on a large piece of ice, a small ice burg that’s beached when the tide recedes. The salt melts, slowly returning to the sea where it was once harvested. It breaks apart the ice creating micro fragmentations. This phenomenon evokes the way in which these giant ice burgs were placed in this landscape, and how the water carried them. They collapsed under the water current, broke under the pressure, and traveled with the tide. Through the movement of the tides, the water draws with the ice fragments. Every day the composition changes. The circular composition references the ecosystem and the cycle of the tide.

Drawing. Portal | 2021

inkjet print on watercolor paper, kaolin. 42 inches x 48 inches

Je marche sur les berges du fleuve au niveau de Kamouraska. Je suis native du bas St-Laurent et j’y retrouve une paix et un sentiment d’appartenance. Le soleil brille.. La marée est basse. Tout est calme. Les glaciers intimidants m’empêchent de m’aventurer au delà de la rive. Il fait un froid glacial. Je connais bien cet endroit. J’adore m’y baigner et y faire des feux de camps durant les journées chaudes de juillet. Cela fait maintenant deux semaines que je viens m’y promener, observer l’action des marées et des vents. La ligne de glace formée par l’eau montante est précise et droite. Le contraste entre les rochers et les glaces est extrêmement prononcé.

I know the lines of this landscape very well.I was born in this region of Quebec, Canada. The natural frozen horizon generated by the tide is so crisp, it feels almost clinical. I draw a large rectangle on the rocks using kaolin.The clay freeze almost automatically creating crystals.The mined imported kaolin, foreign material to this environment, becomes a metaphor for my presence, a poetic acknowledgment of humanity within the natural space. How much can one introduce into an ecosystem without wrecking it, destroying it? There is a balance between inclusion and disruption.

Drawing. Vertige | 2021

inkjet print on watercolor paper, kaolin. diptych 35 x 41 inches each.

Le temps et gris. Je regarde la pente abrupte créer par cet amas de roches aux abords du lac. Je dessine une ligne droite avec du kaolin. Je monte, je redescends, je monte, je redescends, ceci des dizaines de fois. Mon corps se fatigue brouillant ma perception du haut et du bas de la colline. Je prend un pause. Je regarde.

A steep hill made of rocks connect the grey sky to the almost identical colour of the icy lake. I make a cut in the landscape by dusting kaolin on the rocks. I walk the line back and forth for hours. It is exhausting. The physical gesture of drawing with clay connects me to the abrupt landscape. My perception of what is up and down blurs from the effort. I am disoriented. Wind comes. My drawing slowly is blown away by the element. The work disappeared, leaving almost no trace. My ephemeral intervention illustrates a relationship with the natural element, which are the rocks, the clay, and human beings.

Drawing. Corridor | 2020

inkjet print on satin photo paper, kaolin. diptych 36 x 43 inches each.