Lucia Pizzani

My family lived in Margarita for years, so I spent long periods there. I had researched that community, drawn by their ancient pottery tradition, all led by women from one generation to the next. Oral knowledge is stored through clay from the Cerro de Santa Cruz, a nearby mountain; pieces are fired on bonfires with terracotta tiles and wood. Currently, the workshop is also a school, with the support of NGOs such as Artesano Group and Hacedores de País, and I had the chance to both teach and learn while I was there this summer. The new generation of makers, mostly young men, are led by Juan Jose Bermúdez.
This experience permitted a deeper understanding of the materials and process. The imagery that I have been developing connects with old ways and symbols, for instance, from figurines made by one of the grandmothers and older alfareras.

As a way of mirroring my condition as a migrant, the works for Frieze have been done in these 2 countries: Venezuela and the UK, as the clay is made from soil that ties it to the idea of territory, as well as cultural references from both places. I have produced the new totems at Whichford pottery, a workshop that has been running for two generations. It is a beautiful example of the tradition of pottery in this part of the world. In these sculptures, I have imprinted corn as a symbol of the Americas and taparas, a type of squash from my home country. They also have drawings that emulate roots, branches and fruits made with black slip. For these works I think the brushwork is much more important than in previous ones; it felt to me as if I was doing a three-dimensional painting.

Vessels allow space to exist inside and around them. Historically, they were made to contain water, drinks, seeds, and other vegetables. I relate to that and imprint some of these vegetables on the surface of the works. Some works are more of a medium scale, resembling the shape of a seed; the oval for me is an important universal form present in almost all the points of entry to the body. The eyes, the mouth, the vagina also have an ovoid shape. The new Flora Totems have freer shapes; imagination can take you in different directions.

Yes, it was intentional in tying them to the idea of identity. The emblems were symbols of a family or group, and these works materialise identity as they have been imprinted with prominent symbols such as the corn. At the same time, they live in a non-definitive place. Clay was one of the first materials where humans manifested material culture; if I had to define my identity or sense of belonging at present times, I would have a much harder task at hand. These Totems are receptacles of a layered identity, a more multiple one.

There is a particular sculpture made in two halves, one from each place. The head is from terracotta done at El Cercao, and the body is from English black clay. It acts as a bridge of time and space, which for me is almost an amulet or mixed-spirit figurine. The idea was to represent the spirit of plants and using dry vegetation as part of the sculptures, such as acacia and mahogany seed pods.

These were part of a body of work I used in a video piece and a series of photographs titled Las Cáscaras. This means the shells and is part of an ongoing theme I have been developing of a second skin. Ideas of protection, an outer membrane, regeneration and transformations in natural processes are all part of this theme. What happens inside a cocoon is quite sci-fi; it's like going inside a pouch, melting and becoming. The moment of birth is also quite complex. In another video work, I documented 12 monarch butterflies being born and their first flight, positioned as a clock in a circle. They are born with super-squished wings and struggle to come out. To be trapped or covered by these containers, the textiles, cocoons and the body itself can be a metaphor for a possible libration, for growing and transformation. Particularly for women, the performers inside the works were all women, and my job is very much embedded in an eco-feminist ethic.

I studied visual communications in Venezuela and conservation biology at Columbia University in NY before completing my MA in Fine Arts at Chelsea College in London.
The studies in conservation complemented the work I was doing as part of the environmental movement in Venezuela. We had projects with communities in the Amazon, the Andes and Margarita Island, and participating in them was an even greater learning experience. We dealt with endangered species, scientific investigation and sustainable development through farms and other initiatives. All the knowledge and a lifetime passion to integrate and communicate these themes are essential in my work and practice.

Being from a country like Venezuela brings with it constant uncertainty and fear. Recent presidential elections and the resulting protests and repression have deepened the political and economic crisis. This teaches you to concentrate at a level where you can actually be an agent for change and think and work towards a different future through advocacy and community projects.
I have been thinking for years about the environmental crisis we face, but after Covid it was a turning point as it was felt globally and is a direct consequence of it. Climate change has been giving proof of a great imbalance, a disruption of natural cycles that took thousands of years to evolve. I talk about that through my work, as in my participation at Planet B: Climate Change and the new sublime curated by Nicolas Bourriaud in Venice in 2022.
Some installations have been done in Botanical Gardens, such as my Seres Vegetales project in Oaxaca, which was developed during the Casa Wabi residency. I’m also currently exhibiting at the Harewood Biennial in Leeds at the walled garden planting the 3 sisters' way (corn, beans and squash) as part of a group of sculptures with live plants, arboreal fragments fallen in the state grounds and ceramic pieces. This ancient way of planting from the Americas is cooperative, benefits the soil, and constitutes a perfectly balanced diet with vitamins, carbohydrates, and protein for humans.

As I was saying, the idea of a second skin is always present in my work.  when I saw the Amate paper in Mexico, made with the skin of trees, the bark very noticeable in the lines and texture, I fell in love with it. It took me a couple of years to understand and learn how to incorporate it into an artwork, as it is precious and has a fantastic history. It was used by Mesoamerican cultures to create their Codices, and when the Spanish colonisers arrived they banned the production of paper. They continued to produce it regardless, and it is still used today in rituals and for their craft, which are still full of symbols and meaning. I did collages with them about the spirits of plants, like the Ceiba, a sacred tree in Central America. Others were more hybrids with animals and plants, all from the canopy of trees in South America. So, the trees became both the material and the subject.