RELIC: Imagined Artefacts of a Lost History 

Some of the these pieces are available for purchase - please email me for more information.

A collection of imagined objects, simple forms in rich, earth-toned clay, hand built with basic tools, using techniques that haven’t changed for millenia. Relief motifs are carefully designed for each form, then cut by hand and painstakingly applied. A sense of the symbolic, unglazed clay like carved rock, hand smoothed surfaces with the trace of movement. A vernacular that feels specific and indigenous, but tethered to no place or time. 

The pieces in this collection are handbuilt in red stoneware, burnished inside, fired multiple times, and finished with natural waxes. Some marks of making are still visible, from fingers, tools, and the firing process. Each piece is signed with a scratch/cut maker’s mark on the base.

BACKGROUND

The RELIC project has been brewing for many years. It is rooted in my childhood fascination with archaeology - my imaginings of the romance and excitement in unearthing mysterious objects. Also my wide-eyed sense of the enigmas of ancient history - a confused but enticing jumble in my young brain, snippets of fact blended with myth and folklore: towering cities lost to dust, cryptic chanting in woodland glades, witchcraft and sun-worshipping, standing stones and cave-dwelling monsters, mirages and ghost ships, herbalism and runes. I imagined the lives of Mayans and Narnians, Vikings and Kelpies, of daily life in Mesopotamia, Middle Earth, Doggerland and Atlantis. ‘Real’ history seemed as intriguing and exciting as the fictional ones - lucky as I was, I didn’t always know the difference and the world seemed full of secret magic. 

As I grew older, I learnt about seasonal rituals, and their links to the past. My primary school celebrated Mayday in a whirl of blossom and strange dancing; Spring was here, it was fresh and beautiful and made complete sense to celebrate. My sister's birthday is the winter equinox and I learned it was a special time - of transformation, reverence. I learned too that the moon’s changing form meant something - not just of the Universe and it’s colossal moving bodies, but for the earth, of Harvest and Wolves, Blood and Hunters. 

This real life magic and ritual felt like it was connected with the ancient past, and woven through with the mythical. It all seemed to me, and still does, some of the truest and best of human things, ritual and connection, meaning and celebration, gratitude and mourning. All bound together with water and smoke, moonlight and blossom, rock and thunder. As old as time and across all borders, without language but full of poetry. I wanted to capture these ideas, these feelings, in my work. 

I’m an avid museum goer, as happy examining a few dusty cabinets in the corner of a library as exploring a grand institution. I love to see what has been found, how and where, what is known of it, and more than anything - to wonder and muse on the gaps, the unknown. That which is left to be catalogued and displayed is so often made of clay. One of the first crafts, and the longest lasting. These pieces of the past, physical traces of those long gone, seem to hold an echo of those lost lives, an intangible sense of the human that made it, or used it, owned it, perhaps treasured it. 

I have wanted for a long time to make objects like the ones I saw in museums. Not a pastiche, not something that looked like these things, but something that felt like them. That felt timeless and resonant. That made you wonder - has this just been dug up? That made you ask whose it was and how they used it. Who made it, where, and how?

The visual language for RELIC has evolved gradually over the last few years. I was clear that I didn’t want to purposely emulate a particular cultural style, (though there are of course references and connections). In between other projects, I’ve experimented and iterated. In recent months the threads have gathered and a collection started to take shape.

If you have a question about the project, please contact me on lisaommanney@gmail.com