Rising Stars: Meet Jonathan Kaplan

Today, we’d like to introduce you to Jonathan Kaplan.

Hi Jonathan, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
I have had a career as a ceramic artist for 56 years. I have followed my muse for a long time and have been lucky, very lucky.

To be able to maintain such longevity, I can think of three words that have guided me throughout these years… purpose, perseverance, and persistence. In a culture and society that really minimizes the importance of art, especially in something as singular as making pottery, how do I continue to stay interested?

What has sustained me for such a lengthy duration? I have always had a curious mind, have always been good with my hands, and have been able to stay involved in my field by never losing sight of the objective or the goal. That purpose or objective could be regarded as always doing good work.

Defining “good work” is of course highly subjective and relative; making good work has nourished and propelled me to define myself in a much wider context.

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story. Has it been an easy path overall, and if not, what challenges have you had to overcome?
Perseverance and persistence involve continuing to work through all obstacles and complications, finding solutions to the many problems that can occur when when working with clay.

It is also the tenacity to stive towards goals be they short term or long term. Making ceramics is kind of an outlier in our culture. While every object that we encounter daily was once handmade, very little is left in our world that can maintain such an identity.

Forging a career dependent on the sales of handmade ceramic ware requires dedication and commitment.

Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe you can tell us more about your work next?
My career as a ceramic artist encouraged me to always think outside the box, or in the case of ceramics, “outside of the container.” I have been involved in ceramics every day in a variety of ways. Making work is not only the activity of shaping clay but also of what is behind and surrounds it to give context to the work.

What are the concurrent activities that propel me to continue to make work? There are many tangential ways that have kept me involved in ceramics. They all involve clay, some directly and some indirectly. In 1988 I decided that I need a break from making ceramics and the show and exhibition circuit. I moved to Telluride Colorado and worked in the ski and bicycle industries. I was a certified bicycle mechanic and segued quite easily into that business. I quickly learned the necessary skill set to work servicing skis.

My experience in trade shows from my previous ceramics business enabled me to easily deal with customers across the counter in ski shops as I knew how to listen. After a sojourn in Telluride, I moved to Steamboat Springs and continued to work in the recreation business. I learned that for me, while skiing has and still is a part of my life, there was little future in those industries as I did not love them.

What I did find was that I still loved ceramics. I leased some industrial space in Steamboat Springs and returned to doing work. I decided to follow what I knew about selling what I made by returning to the trade show circuit. But what I did not know was that the market for handcrafted ceramics was leveling out from its heady days and, really, was declining. What to do? I had some skills in making ceramic reproductions/duplicates and making plaster molds, and in a short time, I had a factory, machinery, and employees.

I spent 16 years as a small batch manufacturer in ceramics for many clients from a diverse customer base. I built an active business that left little time, energy, or “brain space” to develop my own work. It was time for another change, and I closed the factory and moved to Denver. I was lucky to find an old warehouse in an up-and-coming art district in need of a complete renovation. I designed a new live-work space, and I also developed the front part of the building into the Plinth Gallery, an exhibition space for contemporary ceramics.

I had time, space, and, yet again, the desire to reinvent myself. For the last 16 years, I have been a working ceramic artist and gallery curator. However, I have also had another tangential career as a writer. I had always written about ceramics, and I was first published in ceramics periodicals in the 1970s, writing technical articles and critical essays. I soon realized that I had a voice, and it was not difficult for me to communicate ideas. Writing essays on specific issues in ceramics was easy for me.

About eight years ago, I thought about writing a book. I did not know, or could not know, the amount of time, organization, and effort that was required. I also kept putting off the actual writing. The book was in my head. In the beginning years of my career, I became quite skilled on the potter’s wheel. When I had my ceramic factory, this was not a viable way to produce volumes of ware. One of the most productive ways was to slip-cast pottery using plaster molds.

The clay is prepared as a liquid and poured into the molds, allowing for precise reproduction of an original shape or form. If you have 12 molds, you can make 12 identical copies. I have used this method of making work in my factory as well as my own ceramic work. I am a self-taught mold and model maker and have been involved with this process for many years over my lengthy career. The accumulation of knowledge for personal use and advancement is only beneficial for one individual.

Sharing what one knows in a variety of ways can help a greater number of people. I have always shared my knowledge through teaching workshops, but this reaches perhaps 10-20 people yearly. But what if I were to disseminate information on a more global basis? Passing on my accumulation of knowledge, skills, and techniques seemed to be a logical next step. If I did not pay it forward when I left this life, it would all die with me, so I decided to write a book.