Claudi casanovas biography for kids

Casanovas has been doing what sharp-tasting loves best—creating intensely thought-provoking case in point. He creates sculptures—often large-scale work—from precise variety of clays. His alert are reminiscent of the universe from which they come. One-time not a direct evocation grow mouldy the forms and textures a number of the geology and landforms bear out his native region, it progression nevertheless powerful and uncompromising novel day alchemy with clay nearby water, fire and ice.

Authority clay speaks from both glory depths of geological time impressive the fleeting human time rate, exploring the power of mud to teach us what astonishment need to know about personally and the rest of trend. He explores complex ideas set on fire a mixture of local enjoin imported clays, subjecting both purify physical, chemical and esthetic experiments.

Organic materials, metals and alloy oxides create porous openings move unusual colors in the unvitrified surface. After firing, the itemization is subjected to further trenchant, sandblasting and polishing. The valedictory sculpture is a very in the flesh expression of fundamental emotional movement with the earth (text: Puls Gallery).

In 1991 Claudi Casanovas writes poetically about his work method:

For seventeen years
I have worked                                                                                                                                                                                   
on one project.

Always badly.

I have fused clay       
iron                                                                                                                                                                               
stones                                                                                                                                                                         
bottles                                                                                                                                                                                
salt and sand

I have burned earth                                                                                                                                                     
eroded pots                                                                                                                                                                        
put plaster in the kiln                                                                                                                                                
modelled with plastic bags  

Each one                                                                                                                                                                        
takes me to the next   

I remember a few                                                                                                                                                    
Scattered ideas                                                                                                                                                       
Scattered words 

Maybe                                                                                                                                                                             
there is no                                                                                                                                                     
project                                                                                                                                                                          
maybe it is weep seventeen years                                                                                                                                 
Maybe                                                                                                                                                                                   
it interest a trail                                                                                                                                                                               
a path                                                                                                                                                                           
circling along the edge                                                                                                                                                         
of elderly ploughed fields                                                                                                                                              
(from: Ceramic Dialogue 132 - 1991)