Eastover Park is a charming green space in Charlotte, with winding paths encouraging strolls and bike rides into a forested area surrounded by wetlands. In the corner of the park sits the Mint Museum Randolph, home to the exhibition Shinichi Sawada: Agents of Clay. Sawada’s small, ceramic, fantastical creatures are adorned with meticulous spikes and textures, giving them a unique, almost otherworldly appearance that would be fun to search for in the verdant landscapes of the greenway’s Briar Creek.
In the serene and methodical world of ceramics, Sawada stands out as a unique figure whose works speak volumes without uttering a single word. Sawada’s sculptures are a fascinating blend of raw emotion and intricate design. They’re a mesmerizing fusion of various creatures, combining elements from mammals, fish, birds, and insects alongside the artist’s fantastical creations. Walking through the show, I was repeatedly reminded of a miniature version of Groot from the Marvel Universe, with his woody bark-like skin, glowing eyes, and sturdy torso. Like Groot, Sawada’s works strike a balance between menacing creatures and gentle giants.
Sawada’s ceramics often boast multiple faces, an abundance of eyes, and intricate patterns of incised lines, bumps, and protrusions. These features give his creations a totemic and mythical quality, bridging the gap between the natural world and the artist’s imagination. His process involves the delicate application of ‘thorns’ onto the main body of the sculpture, a task he performs with precision and without hesitation.
Born in 1982 in Shiga Prefecture, Japan, Shinichi Sawada’s artistic journey began in 2000 through the Nakayoshi Fukushikai Welfare Association, a program designed to assist neurodivergent individuals in finding employment and fostering independence. Sawada divides his time between the ceramic studio and the organization’s bakery, working on his ceramics twice a week. His unglazed works derive their color from the ash settling on the surfaces and fusing with the clay, a technique rooted in the millennia-old tradition of wood-burning Shigaraki kilns. Each sculpture undergoes a rigorous finishing process, firing consistently for three days and nights. The kiln, which takes a week to cool, imparts unique colors to each piece, ranging from gray to black to red, depending on their placement within the kiln and the interaction with ash.
Drawing inspiration from traditional Japanese imagery and his mountainous surroundings, Sawada’s creations reflect his environment and cultural heritage. There is a profound sense of solidity in Untitled (172) (2020). The face exudes power and wisdom, reminiscent of a Chinese parade dragon. Its bushy hair that usually flutters sits flat like thorns and is always alert. Instead of the contrasting gold, red, and white hues, this dragon is coated in a deep dark black. With a matte finish, the black feels soft, but its cool undertones lend the piece a more mysterious and potentially dangerous presence.
Untitled (66) (2017) has a ferocious and energetic appearance. The figure’s prominent, glaring eyes are large and round; their emptiness is piercing, exuding a predatory intensity that sends shivers down one’s spine. It feels like a beast perpetually on the hunt. There is this blurring of the line between a wild creature and a monstrous figment of our fears, and once you get past all the twisted horns, scaly skin, and mouth half-empty with jagged teeth, their presence is oddly endearing. This singular creature contains multiple faces with a multitude of eyes, creating a patchwork of unsettling gazes that follow every movement. Not far away is a rough, uneven tree trunk, Untitled (166) (2010) with humanoid features but a woody, bark-like texture. The character’s ancient, weathered appearance speaks of centuries of wisdom and gentle strength. While generally peaceful, it feels it can become fiercely protective if its forest home is threatened.
While I loved Sawada’s work and am forever grateful for the Mint Museum bringing this exhibition to the South, I have a grievance with the installation. Granted, the works are small, but the museum’s choice to confine each figure within its own plexi-box detracts from the full potential of the artworks by isolating them and diminishing their collective narrative power. This approach creates a disconnection, making the display feel clinical and distant. The barriers create a visual distraction that disrupt the appreciation of Sawada’s intricate, detailed sculptures. A more open and integrated display would have allowed for closer interaction with the pieces, enhancing the viewer’s experience and honoring the raw, organic nature of the works.
Agents of Clay celebrates art’s transformative power and the human spirit’s boundless creativity. Sawada’s unique sculptures, with their intricate designs and rich cultural references, offer a window into a world where the natural and the fantastical coexist perfectly. The Mint’s presentation, co-organized with the Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis, marks Sawada’s first solo museum exhibition stateside, an overdue triumph considering his inclusion in the 55th Venice Biennale in 2013. I appreciate the Mint for being ahead of the curve. Sawada’s legacy as a master ceramist and a powerful voice in contemporary art will undoubtedly endure, inspiring future generations of artists and art lovers alike.
