When internationally recognized Jalisco ceramicist Jorge Wilmot Mason talked of the halcyon stretch he and others in Mexico shared — the 1950-1960 era of surging creativity — he termed those days “another world.” It was an era when Octavio Paz stunned Mexican society and attracted international acclaim with his analysis of Mexican character, “The Labyrinth of Solitude,” when Carlos Fuentes did the same with his novel “The Death of Artemio Cruz.” Mexican culture in all its forms seemed to catch the world’s eye.
Wilmot, who died January 12, was part of that cultural surge. He was born, 1928, in Monterrey, to a well-to-do family. In the early 1950s, he attended the School of Plastic Arts at the ancient and prestigious Academy of San Carlos in Mexico City. He chafed under the classical pedagogy of San Carlos, and by 1953 was in Europe, studying at the Instituto Franco-Italiano in Paris. From there he went to Basel, Switzerland, for further training. In 1957, he was working for ceramic companies in Monterrey that tended to be interested in adopting his innovative designs and techniques, but not in promoting him. In the early 1960s, he was in Jalisco, exploring Tonala, a suburb of Guadalajara known from pre-Hispanic times for its vast fields of clay that was ideal for making low-fired ceramic utensils: comals, jugs, plates, bowls, cups, storage receptacles, etc.
Another innovative ceramicist, Ken Edwards, from Kansas City, Missouri, had recently arrived in Tonala, and the two briefly became partners. Both were drawn by the centrality of pottery making in Mexico’s long history. But it had become apparent that both the practicality and the artistry of Mexican clayware had become stalled in a repetition of past utilitarian and ornamental design. Even local aficionados complained that claywork had no particular vision, with most potters merely repeating what their grandfathers had taught them. In particular, there seemed no impulse to adopt ways to make their product more durable. No one was producing (longer-lasting) high-fired ware. Wilmot and Edwards sought to change that while incorporating traditional artistry.
They made an unlikely pair. Wilmot, short and tidily attired, a precise man, preferring more neatly organized surroundings than most Tonaltecan ceramicists. Edwards had been working with Mexican crews and was used to old-time pottery making habits. Tall, goateed, hair untidy, as was his usual attire, Edwards found life a disorderly mix of hilarity, absurdity and iniquity. His sense of humor embraced wit and whimsicality, droll sarcasm, an irony of extreme obliqueness and slapstick. Thus, he found conventional society’s “pretense” of well organized progress, practically and morally, something of a myth, soothing...but.... Yet he understood other people’s — and his own — quest for the utopian dream.The Wilmot-Edwards partnership did not last long. Yet they both believed that, for all its historic grandeur, Mexico’s ceramic artisanship and production had fallen on bad times: it was now infrequently combining, as it once prolifically did, growing aestheticism and utility: “...(A)rticles used for domestic needs, work, decoration, rituals, play, festivities, dances.”
They set out to remedy that. High-firing was the solution. It allowed for more versatile enduring artful invention, brilliant colors, shimmering finishes. And once the practical advantages — the gifts of versatility and endurance — were recognized, Wilmot and Edwards believed (correctly) aesthetic reinvigoration would follow.
Importing equipment for this technological advance was expensive, the cost of getting stuff through Mexico’s quixotic aduana (customs) often prohibitive. Much of the equipment was made by Wilmot and Edwards and their workmen — a trial and error process. Like many U.S. citizens intending to stay in Mexico at that time, Edwards had been making a living teaching at the highly thought-of Instituto Cultural Mexicano-Americano. Like many artists and writers, artisans in Mexico existed on thin resources. Thus, costly informative visits to the U.S. were seldom undertaken. Wilmot later often mentioned this rough process. A 1994 article on him in a Mexican newspaper was titled “Jorge Wilmot, el autodidacto.” Wilmot and Edwards were teaching themselves what would work and what didn’t.
Edwards’ workshop during this time was usually dense with expletives as another attempt was made at negotiating the delicate maintenance of temperature in a large gas oven and the steady movement in and out of the kiln of home-made metal racks rolling on (seldom level) rails, piled with just-shaped forms.
Both Wilmot and Edwards experimented with new decorative art as they wrestled with the practical technology sought to develop high-fired stoneware. And both created a series of one-of-a-kind plates often painted with narratives. Wilmot created many that represented religious moments and personalities. Edwards soon moved toward designing “dining ware.” But many of his customers wanted to purchase his products not strictly as place settings but as decorative wall hangings, they saw them as ideal and colorful presents — a taste of Mexico — for relatives and friends. This demand grew. Thus, as much of his dinnerware was being shaped, he had the foot (base) of each plate and platter pierced with two small holes making the pottery ready for hanging.
Edwards’s concept of merchandising was highly individualistic. In the mid-sixties, when my wife and I first met him, it was during the rainy season. The address we had led us to a high side-street wall with two large black metal doors. There was no hint that this was a workshop, or a commercial ceramic outlet. I knocked, then pounded. No response. It was raining. I pushed one of the big doors and it swung open. No guard dogs. But in front of us, in the rain, were long rows of stacked marvelously painted ceramic plates, saucers, platters, pitchers, jugs, vases of uncountable sizes, beer mugs, decorative pieces of multiple species. They had been there for some time. Everything was full of murky rain water. That first meeting led to discussions on merchandising.
Suddenly, there was a burst of Guadalajara-area art galleries opening, many of them decorated with Tonala ceramics. Soon, Edwards built his El Palomar workshop and ample display rooms at 1901 Tlaquepaque Boulevard.
At about the same time, in the close-by pueblo of Santa Cruz de la Huerta, an uneducated producer of hand-made sewer pipe, Candelario Medrano, was making “curious,” and “improbable” sculptures: Lions, roosters and owls with “savage” human faces, as well as fat double-decked boats and tall church buildings populated with somberoed men, reboso-clad women, mariachi bands and animals. Soon, through the auspices of aficionados, these ceramics and their creator were being praised by the art community in North America, and Europe. One foreign customer brought him a sleek poster announcing a show of his work at the Museum of Modern Art. Candelario had no idea of where New York might be. Undoubtedly far away (muy lejos”). His work was called by one Mexican critic, “grotesqueries...yet whimsical.” Like his sewer pipe, which he continued to make until attention slowly turned into income, all his work was low-fired. That meant transporting them abroad required special care.
Wilmot took a number of beginning ceramicists under his wing, providing personal and pedagogical advice and professional support. Edwards did much the same thing. He early on recognized the talent of today’s international star, Sergio Bustamonte. He was instrumental in organizing Bustmonte’s first one-man show in a small Tlaquepaque gallery — despite what the internet says.
Wilmot and Edwards were key figures in creating the Museo Nacional de la Ceramica in Wilmot’s former two-story Tonala home.
Wilmot retired in 1998. Edwards, like Wilmot, unhappy with what was happening to the Tonala area, moved to Guatemala in 1997. There, he continues to create and produce new ceramic designs and motifs.
The work of both of these masters continues to attract the attention of international aficionados and collectors of Mexico’s highest quality ceramics.