“To live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often.” The words of Saint John Henry Newman seem fit as the basis for a discussion of a philosophy that embraces the trials and imperfections that accompany one’s journey through life. We must bend and break in order to grow, for that is how the light enters the heart. This notion of the beauty found in brokenness is demonstrated in Kintsugi, a form of Japanese art that dates back to the 15th century.
This meticulous practice consists of mending broken pieces of pottery and ceramics together, not in the hopes of masking damage, but, on the contrary, illuminating their cracks and fragments. Kintsugi is traditionally done using urushi (a natural lacquer), to link the fractured pieces together, then dusted with powdered gold. However, there since have been several different techniques that have emerged, replacing missing fragments with other objects for instance. This practice is concerned with waste as well, acknowledging the history and value of things instead of discarding them.
Glen Martin Taylor is a self-made American artist I found via Instagram recently, whose work I find incredibly unique and striking. It can also be found now on his website. Much of his work exhibits themes of brokenness, fracture and mending which resonate with what is at the essence of Kintsugi. Works such as ‘The Long Kintsugi’ showcase how perfection is unnecessary, and arguably impossible, when one must heal.
In my opinion, his best collection is the ‘Vintage Ceramics’, which includes shattered pieces of old china plates and cups, mended together with rusted iron nails, silver solder or wire. Blending a fragile piece of ceramic painted with floral detailing, with the dark and rough materials, creates a sharp contrast, which paints a true picture of what healing is: imperfect. What this artist is then depicting is not an attempt to hide what is shattered or what has been mended, nor the absence of pain that it takes to do that mending. It differs from traditional Kintsugi in that sense; nothing is too polished or perfect. The scars are visible, and most of the recovery has yet to be done, but there is beauty in it all, regardless.
As well as this visual art, Glen Martin Taylor on occasion publishes a short poem in his Instagram captions, alongside a photograph of the work with which it resonates. The tone of the poem varies on the artwork, but always contributes to its mood, whether it be hopeful or despairing.
“i sat at the table with grief
and it left a hollow hunger,
listening for the echo of a love
that shattered the skin of my heart.”
The work displayed with this poem includes a meticulously painted china plate that is shattered in four parts and mended together with wire and other materials. In addition, a skull is attached to the plate, alongside three different forks. The lack of symmetry and coherence is fitting in its depiction of grief, as a complex, non-linear and painful emotion, that is often difficult to comprehend.
Although Glen Martin Taylor’s style is solitary in that the work may appear peculiar at first glance, it remains inspiring exactly for this uniqueness and poignancy. I can only hope to encourage you, as a reader, to seek out art that is sometimes strange and wild, for true connection and inspiration stems from exploration, which must be limitless.
