Do not touch!

The sign “Do Not Touch” is something you expect to see in a museum or a gallery with delicate art, not at a ceramics market—and certainly not at the stand of an artist who has created everything by touch. And where was this warning sign placed? I’m ashamed to say it was at my own stand during Keramisto last September. Of course, this sign was meant for sighted visitors, as they can sometimes be a bit less delicate in their touch. Still, for me, it was a sign that I hadn’t really considered the touchability of my work. The concept and the visual image in my mind are central.

This became even clearer when a number of blind and visually impaired people asked if they could come and experience my work, which in this case meant seeing with their fingers. I immediately said yes, but shortly after, my mind short-circuited. A small explosion of question and exclamation marks went off in my head. Their assumption—and mine—was that my ceramics would be easy to feel. But is that actually the case? I had never thought about it. My design takes shape in my mind, my hands act as tools in its execution, registering what happens to the clay and adjusting the design accordingly. Apparently, I am a strong visual thinker, with a dominant focus on visual perception.

The question now is whether the story I want to tell can also be understood through touch. Is the language of touch strong enough to stand on its own? Do I myself speak the language of touch well enough?

The question from my visually impaired fellow human beings has made me think. I want to give touch a greater role in my work—but how? What are the rules of tactile aesthetics? I’m realizing that far less research has been done on this compared to visual perception, like the Gestalt principles that explain how visual stimuli are organized in the brain. Some of those principles may apply, but they don’t answer how to deal with certain characteristics of touch, such as temperature, texture, and vibration. It’s time to give my body more space and learn to speak the language of touch.

Annemarie, listen to your hands—they say more than you think!