My work began at a moment when I was looking for silence. I found it in clay.
My name is Renata Catena and I am still at the beginning of my journey in ceramics. I have been learning little by little, with my hands and with time, through attempts, mistakes, and small successes that keep me encouraged.
I come from a very busy life. I run businesses and social projects, but it was in ceramics that I found a different place. A slower rhythm. A more present kind of time.
Right now I am preparing, with great care, for a possible selection at the 55th Koguei Art Exhibition – Bunkyo, one of the most important exhibitions of Japanese-Brazilian art.
Just being able to prepare for it already feels like an honor. I am doing my best, slowly and with respect for the process. Sometimes simply putting yourself on the path already means a lot.
I have been guided with great sensitivity by my teacher Magali Ercolin, who taught me to listen to clay and understand that it has its own time.
For this moment I created two new pieces. They were inspired by the Japanese tea ceremony (Chanoyu), which has always touched me because of the simplicity of its gestures and the delicacy of what is essential.
The pieces are still unfired and drying naturally. Soon they will go through the first firing, when clay begins to transform and reveal its true texture.
The first vase, taller and more contained, is called Chaji. It has thin walls and a quiet presence. It represents preparation, restraint, and silent waiting.
The second vase, wider and lower, is called Chawan no michi, the path of the tea bowl. It is open and welcoming, with a slightly irregular rim, almost like an invitation.
The two pieces speak to each other. One holds structure, the other offers openness.
Beyond form, I have also been exploring materials. For these pieces I prepared a glaze made with wood ash and coffee. The final color is still a mystery, and I like that. Fire always has the last word.
Mixing, testing, making mistakes… all of this is also part of ceramics. There is something almost alchemical about it, but above all it requires patience.
Being in this process, even before knowing whether I will be selected, already feels like a gift.
Because more than showing a piece of work, it is a way of affirming a way of being in the world.