Artists

Celeste Needham

Deeply affected by my surroundings, I am unable to go for a walk without stopping to pick up sticks, rocks, seeds. There’s a quality about natural objects that has had me collecting them for years. I typically announce my discoveries. “Look everyone, chestnut sticks!” and hold them up for all to see. The things I pick up evoke memories, words, emotions, things which turn up in my work.

People are often amused that it would intimidate me to paint and use colour, but that I’m not afraid to pour metal or fire glass at high temperatures for days. Ironically, I’m more comfortable doing so. I love the unforgiving nature of the materials I work with; how far I can push them? It’s interesting to be able to cast an object in glass, giving it a density that removes the “preciousness” associated with the material. The penetration of light being the only give away: people will ask, “What is that made of?” I strive to take rugged materials and present them with sensitivity, mystery. A robin’s

nest, one of nature’s delicate structures, cast in bronze, with detail fine as grass. The look of the piece belies its metal composition: one is surprised on touching or holding it, at its weight and strength. That something so seemingly delicate could hold such power. It’s the contradictions that are so intriguing. 

I am not always focused on what I’m trying to achieve so much as the way of getting there, and making sure that it is how I felt it to be. The idea of the viewer feeling something and interacting with the pieces for the first-time, is as intriguing as the initial discovery where they began. I enjoy process, and experiencing the birth of the piece as each step is completed. Completion, despite its rewards, can be a struggle. It’s like saying goodbye to a good friend. My work is feeling as opposed to intellectual or metaphor. Look at it. What do you see? That’s exactly what it is.