For more than 60 years, Alev Ebüzziya has been producing ceramic vessels glazed in a single color, with small bases that seem to float in the air. Although she doesn’t prefer being called a “master”, she is one of the most skillful names in ceramics and contemporary Turkish art. As soon as we see the bowls that Abidin Dino once asked, “What do you dare to put in these bowls, pomegranate seeds, ginger or bird’s milk?”, we realize that they are made by Ebüzziya’s hand. Behind this unique signature lies a passion and diligence that has perhaps been repeating itself for decades.
What is the secret of becoming a master over time?
There is no secret. You just need to work hard. No matter how talented you are, it is impossible to get anywhere if you don’t work hard.
One of your last exhibitions in Istanbul was “Repetition”, which you organized in the past years. Considering your artistic journey of more than half a century, how does “repetition” translate into life?
If I can still make another bowl today, it is a repetition. We can learn by repeating things over and over again. But this does not mean repeating the same thing. We can also think of “repetition” as doing the same thing in a different way.
You use the term production, not creation. What is the journey and production process of a single bowl like?
Yes, I have never called myself an artist, nor have I ever called what I do art. I always say that I produce work. As for the journey of a bowl; there is a production process that takes at least six hours with very intensive and heavy labor. With steps such as kneading the mud, preparing the bands, stacking them on top of each other, there is a tiring production phase that lasts for six hours. But I never complain about it being tiring.
When you don’t like a vessel, what are you doing with its?
I usually break them, but if it’s a bad job, I don’t throw them away immediately, because we can learn a lot from a bad job. Sometimes it is also good to be able to look at a bad work and say, “How did I do that?”, it is important to see our mistakes. But after a while I always break the vessels that don’t turn out the way I want. If I know I can do better, there is no question of settling for less.
What do you feel when you get the dish you want?
Definitelyi joy.
