Stephen Yates
"The final journey"
"My relationship with clay is the same as my relationship with Nature".
Throughout my life, I have always felt a deep connection to the materials and elements around me. This bond extends beyond simple appreciation; it’s a part of who I am. As I immerse myself in the tactile world of creation, I find that my experiences with different media reflect a larger relationship with the natural world. In this exploration, I discover the parallels and lessons that come from working with clay, reminding me of the beauty and complexity of Nature itself.
In April 2023, I lost my Mother, who was aged 95! Since my long two-hundred-and-seventy-mile hike back to my birthplace in Yorkshire from Portland, over a year ago, following the death of my Mother, I began questioning my heritage and where I had come from. I recently had a DNA test done and discovered that I am of Viking descent. This meant I started asking where my ancestors came from, and how they travelled to the North of England from Scandinavia. I asked the question, “Who do I think I am?”
Grief expands one emotionally.What transpires when we take a moment to slow down and truly focus on the world around us? During my walks along ancient walkways, in silence—something I often prefer since I frequently stroll with my dog Jack—I find that I can tune into my surroundings far more clearly than when I'm lost in my phone, immersed in music, or engaged in conversation with others. This act of observation transcends mere awareness; it allows me to fully experience everything, from the passersby on a bustling city street to the rhythmic sound of my boots against a rocky path, or the gentle caress of a breeze on my skin.When I hike quietly, free from my phone, it helps me reclaim a sense of calm after a hectic day filled with chatter, endless emails, calls, meetings, and the relentless notifications of our digital routines. This stillness also opens up my inner world, promoting mindfulness of my thoughts and emotions.
My father, a Coal Miner and quintessential Yorkshireman who never wasted words, used to remind me that we have two ears and one mouth for a reason: to listen twice as much as we speak. I believe he was onto something. When we silence our voices, we become better listeners.I find it fascinating that 'listen' is an anagram of 'silent'. There’s another one, ‘inlets’, which suggests a point of entry or a way to let things in. Isn't there something beautifully symmetrical in that? By embracing silence, we can listen more attentively and allow the world around us to seep in.My artwork has already changed.
I have been researching ancient local and Scandinavian Viking sites and their beliefs in preparation for an afterlife... my claywork has started to develop a series of Viking 'vessels' as objects for containing elements from the past. I have also delved deep into my early memories of childhood in Yorkshire and began creating objects from my past. My Coalminer Father's 'snap' tin, containing his favourite foods. Black pudding and bread, and dripping! He drank homemade lemon barley water from a special flask he carried on his pit belt!
As I continue this journey of self-discovery through clay and the silence of nature, I realise that the act of creation is not just a reflection of my past but an invitation to explore the depths of my being. Each vessel I shape carries not only the weight of my heritage but also the whispers of those who came before me. By honouring their stories and my own, I find a sense of connection that transcends time and space. In embracing stillness, I uncover the richness of my existence and the profound beauty that lies in listening to the earth, to my memories, and to the legacy I wish to leave behind.I am looking for opportunities to ask about my beliefs about the existence of an 'afterlife'. and to further develop my practice.
