Head of Ceramics, Sugar Maples Center For Creative Arts, Catskill Mountain Foundation
Monday, September 03, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Shot Service
Bruce Dehnert. "Shot Service." Stoneware claybody produced in North Carolina by Takuro Shibata. Wood-fired. Pink shino. Wood tray by Ellie Richards.
Tuesday, July 03, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Wednesday, May 02, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Friday, January 06, 2012
"Saint They"
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Thursday, December 01, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
GT2400's
Monday, May 23, 2011
"Rawlins"

"I don't know. It was my first game. Kinda freaked...walkin' up this wet, concrete ramp. I think it had just rained one of those early spring rains. Maybe I could see my breath in the tunnel. The white tiles on the walls were clean and there was the smell of Pine Sol and it knocked me out of my thoughts a bit 'cause it smelled real, where nothin' else was."
"What else?" I asked.
"Don't know what I was expectin', but as the field came into view, that soap smell just sorta mixed into hotdog, you know...and I remember to this day wonderin' where I was? And my shoes so tight and forearm's frozen stiff and I'm lookin' around and honest to god I didn't see no people...'cept some kids, boys mostly, hangin' over the green infield wall, and some old Black guy in a white, starched shirt sweepin' some stairs down 'long the right field line. And I'm thinkin', as the sound of a whole jumble of metal cleats is startin' to occur to my ears, "...where are all the fuckin' people?""
"Really?"
"Mmmh...yep. I thought the place'd be packed."
There it was. He paused, and was looking just past me as if recognizing some thing in the distance, and all of a sudden, in a split second, a train was upon the house with such fury that the translucent curtains holding back the August sun blew inward as the air in the room seemed to be sucked away in a vacuum. We sat, chained by the monstrous noise.
At one point, he turned his head lethargically toward a glass of brackish water vibrating on the table nearby, but seemed too paralyzed by the endless roar to do anything about it.
Finally, the train was gone as inexplainably as it had arrived, leaving behind the sound of something steel hitting something else steel, then drifting off methodically, gradually until pretty much disappeared and we could talk again. The curtains rested as I fought the urge to look around his quiet room to see if anything else had moved.
I'd forgotten what I'd come to ask.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Thursday, October 07, 2010
Untitled
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Red Room
Bruce Dehnert
'Red Room' Detail
The New Dowse Museum. Wellington. New Zealand.
“Towards the end of the day the clouds opened up and it began to snow heavily and unexpectedly. I remember looking at some blossoms nearby. They appeared to be of a tropical origin and were strikingly beautiful under a growing mantle of fresh snow. The entire scene seemed to be surreal, ironic, contradictory and quintessentially New Zealand.”
Monday, September 27, 2010
Monday, September 13, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Lecture At Chatham Historical Society
Bruce Dehnert. Lecture on Chinese Export Porcelain in the collection of Chatham Historical Society. September 18th, 2010.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
"Nocturne Cherry"
"Lofoten Cream"
Monday, May 24, 2010
Gethsemane's Reflection
Installation at Richard Stockton College
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Ishmael
Monday, May 17, 2010
There Are Two Stories

Abraham had a son with an Egyptian slave, Hagar. The boy's name was Ishmael. At the time, Abraham was nearly one hundred years old. Later, Abraham's wife, Sarah, gave him a son whom they named 'Isaac'. Upon Isaac's weaning, Abraham sponsored a feast, and at that celebration, Hagar supposedly mocked the boy from a distance. Enraged, Sarah ordered Abraham to "get rid" of the woman and her son.
Wandering in the desert with the youngster, Hagar soon depleted the skin of water Abraham had packed for their journey. When the boy began to cry, an angel representing God called to his distraught mother. "What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Lift the boy up and take him by the hand, for I will make him into a great nation."
While the stories of Judaism and Christianity have treated Ishmael as an iligitimate child, he is portrayed in Islam as, simply, a rightful son of Abraham.
Much later, in the pages of a great American novel, a whaling ship of some magnitude leaves Nantucket. The ship's captain, Ahab, with all the bearing of a man who'd lived his life on the angry seas of the North Atlantic, would meet his life's greatest challenge in a white whale that lay waiting in the deep. Herman Melville
(1819 - 1891), who sailed from Fairhaven, Massachusetts on the 'Acushnet' in 1841, would tell the story of this sublime conflict between Man and his own nature in the book, 'Moby Dick'. The narrator of the volume? The ostracized exile, Ishmael.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Ishmael Sent Away
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Hade's Revisitant

My studio work involves "utilitarian" and "sculptural" focuses. Each does what the other cannot.
I can reduce my recent sculptural work to the bare threads of writing. Starting with the premise that biblical stories are 'constructs' in need of characters developed through the usual means of narrative, I've chosen various cathedral floorplans and motifs as armatures. Direct references to these architectural devices might fall away as the process of construction proceeds. Ultimately, in my sculpture I want to present a reflection on the human condition that provides a conflict between Enlightenment and Reason.
Rarely on firm ground while working, it's important to me that I be unsure of "where to next?" This way options remain available and the fragmentary nature of the work literally becomes reflective of my state of mind.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)