Edmund de Waal
door into the dark, 2022, Porcelain, marble, gold, aluminium and glass, 21 x 92.7 x 10.2 cm; Photo: Stephen White & Company
‘Across the Porcelain of Evening’
Commentary by Laura Popoviciu
‘A title is a sort of letter of promise in a pocket’, writes Edmund de Waal (2014: 214). Entitled door into the dark, this work anticipates an encounter with something promised. And it unfolds gently like a five-page letter.
Contained within wall-mounted vitrines, black porcelain vessels dance around ebony coloured marble and golden tablets. Within this display lie pauses, rhythms, longings, repetitions, silences, breaths, hesitations. Should we continue? How can we go on? Do you not know that…? What then?
Such rhetorical questions also form the basis of chapter 6 of Paul’s letter to the Romans where the apostle guides his hearers on a journey from death to resurrection with Christ—just as de Waal’s porcelain (as dark as a midsummer night’s sky) yields to the inspiriting disclosure of gold.
How do we make the transition from sin to grace?
For de Waal, letting objects be in the shadows is essential. By observing how shadows move around objects and have the power to transform them, darkness itself is redemptively active.
Once filled, each shadowy vitrine becomes a space for contemplation. And as our eyes move around the work, we ourselves, in viewing it, become a little like the raw material from which its vessels are made: first formless; then taking on a multitude of shapes before the potter at the wheel. Gently kneaded clay, lightly touched by the artist’s hands, washed by water like a baptism. For this mysterious process of transformation to reach completion, the shaped clay must be placed into the kiln, while the artist begins a vigil of waiting.
Made in 2022, door into the dark was part of an exhibition at Waddesdon Manor, UK, whose title was inspired by a line from ‘The Eighth Duino Elegy’ by Rainer Maria Rilke: we live here, forever taking leave (Mitchell 1989: 197). Perhaps there is hope in this transient presence: a ‘letter of promise’ in the pockets of our hearts. The discreetly placed golden tablets lend an aura to the vessels which could be an intimation of glory.
‘The bat quivers across the porcelain of evening’, Rilke concludes (ibid: 195). In doing so, it stirs the very air which the golden morning light will eventually pierce. It is into this state of complete stillness and darkness, like a vigil during the Easter liturgy, that Paul’s letter also speaks, reminding us that Christ’s death is a promise of resurrection.
References
Conversation with Edmund de Waal, February 2024
De Waal, Edmund. 2014. Edmund de Waal (London: Phaidon)
______. 2019. psalm (Venice: Jewish Museum and Ateneo Veneto)
______. 2022. we life here forever taking leave, exhibition leaflet (Waddesdon: Waddesdon Manor)
Mitchell, Stephen (ed). 1989. The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke (New York: Vintage International Edition)