CLAY IN THE CITY

New York in Clay: A Blind Potter’s Journey

I recently spent time in New York City on a ceramics-focused inspiration tour, visiting a wide range of galleries, shops, and studios that celebrate both historic and contemporary approaches to clay. As a blind ceramic artist, I experience ceramics through touch — discovering the shape, weight, and texture of a piece with my hands. This trip offered a deeply meaningful way to engage with ceramics across cultures and centuries.

A number of spaces focused on historic and ancient works. In one memorable gallery visit, I was invited to sit while an array of ceramic objects was brought out to me — including ancient pre-Columbian vessels, a sculpture of a horse with a Chinese rider, and a turtle-shaped ink dropper. The generosity of that tactile experience was unforgettable. One contemporary Chinese platter stood out for its richly layered texture, which I could explore entirely through my hands.

Other stops celebrated the intersection of design and ceramics in more experimental ways. One gallery, known for its bold and curated aesthetic, surprised me with playful pieces — including a stuffed rhinoceros and even a cast bronze matzah that made me smile. The work pushed the boundaries between object and art in unexpected, often whimsical ways.

Another highlight was engaging with the work of Yanagihara Mutsuo, whose ceramics struck a balance between refined form and emotional resonance. His pieces felt grounded yet expansive — and the time spent exploring them alongside my mother made the experience even more meaningful.

In a space dedicated to tea culture, I encountered an array of tea bowls and ceremonial vessels — each one delicate and reverent, inviting slow attention and quiet reflection. Their fine craftsmanship and fragility brought a sense of stillness.

Some of the most compelling moments came from encountering contemporary sculptural ceramics. One installation spanned nearly thirteen feet of organic wall tiles arranged in a fluid, tactile composition. Another exhibit featured candelabras with heavy, dripping glazes and raw, jagged forms — objects that felt as if they'd been pulled from a cathedral or a dream.

Perhaps the most unique opportunity came when I was able to touch ceramic works decorated by Picasso and Chagall.

While the vessels themselves were made by artisans, the hand of the artist was present in each etched line and brushstroke. Tracing a carved goat’s head or the outline of a woman’s figure gave me a powerful sense of their gesture and artistic intent

This journey through New York reminded me how alive ceramics can be — not just in their appearance, but in how they feel and speak through touch. I left inspired not only by what I discovered, but by the conversations, kindness, and deep sensory engagement that unfolded along the way.

I return to my own studio recharged and ready to explore new directions, carrying the memory of these forms in my hands.

Cheers,

Don Katz