Lynn Peters

Lynn PetersLynn Peters is a professor of sculpture, ceramics and design, currently teaching at Moraine Valley Community College in Chicago, IL. Ms. Peters has worked in the art industry doing architectural restoration and in her own business making pottery for retail and wholesale markets. She studied at Sheridan School of Design, NY State University at Alfred and Rutgers University; and has completed traditional apprenticeships, both in production pottery making and mold and model making. Nomadic by nature, she travels and works between Toronto, NYC, and Chicago. My work is narrative ceramic sculpture that is wall mounted.
My studio is like a cabinet of curiosities, a kind of memory theater where I pitch campLynn Peters with open journals and images on the walls, tables and floor. From my archive comprising thousands of pages from countless sources, I create vignettes with vintage ceramics and maquettes that I arrange and rearrange in a Dada-Joseph-Cornell-like construction, that is in flux for a while. My written journals include records of conversations, capturing dialogues snatched at random. I document clichés and other phrases that are ambiguous, indirect missives commemorating the plainspoken, bootstraps wisdom of the pioneer spirit reflected in the early 20th Century. I’m particularly drawn to this era’s optimism that is so well described here:
The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are Lynn Petershopeless yet be determined to make them otherwise. For instance, in the piece Bliss, an ostrich, made of carved clay, is being ridden by a woman looking into a mirror (the original selfie), all enclosed with the carved banner which reads “Chair of Public Understanding”. My intention is to make fun of the social classes (the rank of “Chair” implies a person of substance, in this case the unlikely personage of a woman riding a large bird), our common inability to understand ourselves, but also, simultaneously, the opposite, a possible flash of insight as she “gets it”, or perhaps, even, a wry bit of humor at the inescapable quandary of being human.

Support us

Support Once


Support Monthly

$5.00 $10.00
$25.00 $50.00

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *