Lucia Mondadori

I grew up on a magical island in southern Brazil. My parents had moved there from the big city in the 80s. The island was home to a mix of fishermen, surfers, artists and intellectuals. The great wave-sculpted granites were like sacred totems, sung by local poets, as well as our playground. At 13, I was painting postcards, like small windows opening onto an imaginary world. At 16, I became an artist's apprentice, trading my help for materials and a corner of the studio. That's where I made my first female figures, sculptures of pregnant women in clay.

But art, with all its uncertainties, scared me. So I double-majored in Graphic Design and Literature, studied film in New York, worked in a publishing house and spent several years creating window displays for a major brand.
In 2016, life took me to Paris in search of a new direction and some crockery for my new home. When I couldn't find what I was looking for, I decided to make my own. And so, on an inspired whim, I dived into the world of ceramics, making it both my profession and my passion. The most precious thing for me today is to reconnect with the young girl who once fashioned clay sculptures in the corner of a workshop.

The world of Sessùn, with its aesthetic approach and commitment to authentic values, strikes a particular chord with my own creative vision. I have always been attracted to Sessùn's sense of harmony between simplicity and elegance, attention to detail and the pursuit of quality. There's a deep connection with nature and a genuine appreciation for craftsmanship, which are essential aspects of my own work.

Organic forms and raw materials are at the heart of my research and work. My process begins by abstracting the curves of the human body and other living forms, such as a root or a sea creature. I draw and model them in chamotte stoneware. I then take the pieces through a series of stages, like drying, sanding, glazing and high-temperature firing.

Each piece is revisited several times over the years. With each version, the curves are refined and studied differently, giving each piece its own unique character. The pieces have names and symbolic meanings, although I enjoy letting myself be moved and carried by what each one inspires. It's a slow, meditative process where I am totally anchored in the present.

I work exclusively with stoneware, also called sandstone, especially chamotte stoneware. It's a very mineral, stone-like clay that invites you to touch it. The pieces seem to call out to be handheld, and I love the raw strength which draws us to them. The transformation of earth by fire is such a vast world in itself that one could devote several lifetimes to it. I prefer natural earth colors to highlight the texture. I am currently working with oxide juices. It's a technique that enables me to color my pieces without losing the original texture of the material. This way, I can preserve the aesthetic and tactile character of each piece.

Intuition plays a central part in my creative process. Quite often, I spot my sources of inspiration once the pieces have been created. For example, the raw curves and textures came to me on a trip to Brazil, walking on my childhood beaches, along rocks carved by the waves.
Works by masters such as Jean Arp, Barbara Hepworth and Brancusi have had a profound effect on me. I regularly take the time to study and marvel at their forms. Recently, I've become particularly interested in the abstraction of living forms and those sculpted by time.

This summer, I visited LUMA Arles for the first time, and the venue itself was a real coup de coeur. Among the many exhibitions, the one by Brazilian contemporary artist Erika Verzutti really resonated with me. I was fascinated by her infinite totem poles and objects reminiscent of a cabinet of curiosities. Her use of clay and bronze lends a timeless, organic dimension to her creations. I'm delighted to see materials returning to the core of contemporary art.

I'm about to expand a series of sculptures I started a few years ago. I was told that they evoked symbols from an ancient alphabet, and I really liked this idea. As I am often taken up with commissions, I hope to be able to devote myself fully to this project and succeed in exhibiting a body of work. I've also launched a series of workshops around the sculptural vase, as I enjoy passing on know-how and exchanging ideas between enthusiasts. Working in the studio can sometimes be quite lonely.