Meet Shelley Schreiber | Artist and Artists’ Studio Director

We had the good fortune of connecting with Shelley Schreiber and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Shelley, what’s the most difficult decision you’ve ever had to make?
One of the most difficult decisions I’ve had to make is to choose between two different career paths – studio ceramics or international studies. I’ve had to make that choice twice. Once when getting ready to go to college and again when I had established a career in the international arena. I lived in Mexico, was an intern in Washington D.C. on Capitol Hill. I completed a Master’s Degree in International Studies, studied and then lived in Chile working for Unicef, all the while keeping up my pursuit of ceramics. After Chile, I transferred to Unicef New York and continued to practice my art, taking classes and then working in a private studio.

Changes in my life at that time seemed to happen in cycles, so after working in New York for four years, I was faced with making a decision regarding my career path. After several attempts to move up within Unicef without success, I began to think about what life would be like with no roots. On the one hand, life was exciting: I felt lucky to be a part of a large and culturally diverse organization that did good things in the world. On the other hand, I loved ceramics and wanted to take the leap of faith to practice that passion.

After spending quite a bit of time mulling over what I was giving up and what I would gain, I decided to make the move into being a full-time ceramic artist. I left New York and my job in the international arena and moved back to my native Colorado to join a ceramics co-op. Fortunately—in some respects—I had blinders on; I didn’t think too long and hard about the financial consequences of this decision, but my move back to Colorado made the financial burden of following my artistic passion easier. And, to keep afloat I started teaching ceramics and managing a ceramics studio. Recently I have moved on to become a managing partner of a new working artist’s studio, all the while maintaining my primary motivation to work as a practicing artist.

Let’s talk shop? Tell us more about your career, what can you share with our community?
In many ways, my art career allows me to be creative, interact with other artists and resolve specific technical issues in consultation with others in the ceramics arena. In other ways, it has been a long, arduous struggle: Learning to market my work, and depending on others’ opinions and decisions in order to get into galleries and shows has been painstaking. I’ve learned that success doesn’t always depend on how much I enjoy what I do, how hard I work, how good the work is or my perseverance and passion. Others may not necessarily share my taste or aesthetic. I’ve lived through numerous rejections, which has thickened my skin. As I continue to work in this arena—and forgo the financial benefits from other types of jobs—I’m satisfied by the freedom of making what I love to make and finding kindred spirits who appreciate it. After many years of introspection, I’ve learned to understand and hone my creative style: clean lines, subtlety and complexity at the same time. I’ve worked a long time with porcelain and wheel-thrown work that leans towards artistic and decorative rather than functional. Lately, I’m leaning more towards exploring abstract figurative sculpture and balancing two distinctly different ways to express myself.

Another aspect of what I’ve been pursuing the past few years is to establish a creative workspace for other artists to follow their own artistic pursuits. It is both fulfilling and exciting to know this will come to fruition soon. On the verge of opening, I am working with another ceramic artist/partner to make this happen. It’s a labor of love, meant to create community and physical workspace for ceramists, jewelers and 2D artists.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
I think I’d probably take them to the mountains to go fishing. I’m a sit by the river kind of person – not into hiking to the tops of mountains. Maybe a few art shows, like the chalk art festival, open studios in Boulder and at Prism Workspaces, I’d also take them for good ethnic food. Indian, Thai, Italian, etc. and hanging out in a tea shop for a chat. I’ve gone to see TedX talks only once, but definitely worth it and I’d go again.

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
I started a life-long friendship with my ceramics teacher, Mark Zamantakis (who sadly passed away a few years ago) during my final year of high school, when I came in after school to learn to throw. The year after graduating, I bought my first wheel and visited Mark during his lunch hours. He had a small kiln room in the back of his classroom where he would sit on a stool, stare out the window, and watch the students doing crazy things on the school grounds while he ate lunch. We had a lot of good conversations there and many more over the years. We drank tea together in his kitchen many, many times. He was more a mentor of life experiences than he was a teacher of the technical aspects of ceramics, though he was always willing to help with that part of learning and to encourage me to do my best artistically. Before my time with Mark, he built a three-chamber (wood-burning) noborigama in Fairplay, Colorado that he fired in the summer with the help of past students, friends, and colleagues. I participated in these firings many times, always assigned the overnight shift to help keep the “guys” from over-stoking the kiln. Unbelievably, I didn’t get to stoke the kiln until I’d been a part of the firings for more than twenty years, and this was at the behest of a studio mate who advocated on my behalf to be able to do that. He was a bit old school in that respect, but with a good heart.

Another influential high school teacher, who taught me about attention to detail, was my drawing and painting teacher, Ed Marecak. He was a well-known pointillist painter, who loved to talk about being from Transylvania, and kept a list of excuses posted on his bulletin board that students had given him for not turning in their assignments. Mr. Marecak lived about a block from me, so we walked to school together quite often, and he talked about things like how painters who worked hundreds of years ago ground their own pigments to make paint.

Website: www.shelleyschreiber-art.com

Instagram: @slsindenver

Image Credits
Suzi Moore McGregor (photo of Shelley wheel-throwing). All other photos by Artist