Sea treasures: an interview with Debbie Weinstein - Interview - Cover Story

Arts & Activities, Feb, 2004 by Harriet Gamble

Debbie Weinstein is a southern Florida ceramic artist who proudly admits that "you can take the girl out of Florida, but you can't take Florida out of the girl." Born and raised in the area, her love of the sea--the sun, the beach, the water and the colors--is reflected in her work. A working artist and a teacher, Debbie combines her devotion to clay and nature in her art.

In the interview that follows, Debbie shares her history, her evolution as an artist, and thoughts about teaching and making art.

H.G. How and why did you get started in art?

D.W. I can't really pinpoint the moment when I found art; it has always been a part of my life. When I was a child I always found things to play with to keep myself busy. When I was about 5 years old, my older brother and sister got a miniature-sized pottery wheel--and I was amazed by it and completely enthralled--but, unfortunately too young to use it. So instead, I would play with the clay! It was better than making sand castles at the beach; it stayed together as it dried. I admit that I was in love with Play-Doh[R] too--the smell, the way it worked, and like most of my generation--the taste.

H.G. Did everything come as easily to you as art?

D.W. Not at all. When I began school, my teachers realized that I was not grasping reading as the other kids were, and they placed me in special classes where l learned to read through color-coding sounds. Today. I would be diagnosed as dyslexic, and my lack of focus would be called ADD. However, in the mid 1970s, there were not labels at my school--I was just another kid in this new program with eight or 10 others learning to read in another way. By the time we were in the fifth grade, most of us were reading at a college level.

H.G. You were very lucky to be in such a progressive program. What about art classes in your school?

D.W. My primary schools had art education, and I fought to get into them. Classes were always crowded, and kids wanted to play--but I wanted to be there because I loved the idea of making things. I was always able to focus on projects--learn new things all the time--grasp how things worked together. I learned that everything was connected through art of one sort or another.

H.G. Were your parents supportive of your love for art?

D.W. Absolutely. When I was about 8, my parents started taking me to a paint-your-own-pottery place on Saturday mornings--which I did until I was about 12. I learned to clean greenware and to use ceramic tools; I learned to use underglazes and stains; I learned about firing and some basics about underglazes and glazes. Finally in high school, I was able to take a ceramic class--first in 10th grade and then again in my senior year. We had no wheels at my high school, but we were able to hand-build. I learned to love and hate hand-building--all at the same time.

H.G. And after high school, what then?

D.W. I started at Broward Community College, and after a few grueling semesters of psychology classes, I realized I harbored a deep hatred of Freud. I decided to take a throwing class and fought to get in without the normal prerequisite hand-building class. I was a "natural" thrower--it came easily to me, and I was able to center the clay my first day. I was totally seduced by the wheel. I wanted to do everything. I went through my power-throwing period early--the need to throw a 50-pound mass of clay into a vase or plate--so I was able to go on to other things and ideas. I went on to get my BFA at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston and MFA at Kent State in Ceramics.

H.G. Your focus has always been clay?

D.W. Although my primary love is clay, I am also infatuated with nature. I am fortunate to have grown up in South Florida and to have lived my first 23 years in perpetual summer. Things are different down here--the culture is a rainbow of colors, sights, and tastes. As children, we spend virtually 10 months of the year with little to no clothing on and learn to swim and love the water at a young age--I was just a year old. We are surrounded by water and tropical flora--to not take notice would be a crime. My parents started escaping to the Florida Keys when I was a child--and we learned to snorkel--the reefs were so alive then. While I was going through school, I was able to go on one-week trips to the Keys and to participate in Sea Camp and Sea Base--two programs designed to teach kids oceanography and biology through experience. Aside from exploring reefs and swimming with sharks and barracuda, we also dissected sponge and starfish and put them under the microscope--those images are still with me today.

H.G. But you left Florida for school. Did you miss it?

D.W. Imagine my surprise when I went to the Northeast for school and encountered the changes of seasons and all the new color schemes. I was intrigued by snow, but it was also horrifying to me--white stuff everywhere for nine months! Of course, there was something wonderful about experiencing spring, the renewal of life. I did appreciate the discovering of filings like ice storms (beautiful but so treacherous) and the fact that blueberries grow on bushes. In grad school in Ohio, I learned all the important things like kiln building and glaze calculation but I also learned from my professor--Kirk Mangus--how to put my car in four-wheel drive and drive it through snow!