Respect for the material is key to her work. Study, passion, research, and creativity are fundamental to Nina's artistic project, a young ceramic artist from Milan. From a formless, soft material that must be skillfully handled, she creates a shape that one wonders how it manages to "stand up."
Hi Nina! Can you tell us about yourself?
Hi Luce, my name is Nina, and I'm a self-taught ceramic artist from Milan. I don't have a purely artistic background; I took a few courses in London and worked in a ceramic studio in Kuala Lumpur.
I create wheel-thrown vases using natural clays and rocks that I collect and process by hand.
My work is about material research, the aesthetics of a place, and an autobiographical archive of travels to places I've visited that were significant to me.
Research and experimentation with non-commercial materials are what interest me most. Currently, I'm working with clays collected in Lombardy and rocks from volcanic islands.
You say it so naturally, but what does it mean to collect clay?
There's a lot of clay everywhere. In Italy, almost the entire Apennine range is clayey, as are some areas of the Pre-Alps. It's simply a rock that, through various geological processes, when sufficiently crushed, becomes a fine powder that is plastic when wet. So when I say I collect natural materials and use non-commercial clays, it means I study a geological map or various scientific or archaeological research to understand where clay material might be found. Then, I simply collect it with a trowel, process it, which means sifting it, and rehydrate it so it becomes a plastic material that I can use on the wheel.
Where does the name "Unurgent Argilla" come from?
It was 2019, I was in London, and I started this project. I was there for a doctorate that I'm still pursuing, and I felt the need to do something with my hands. Something that was truly linked to knowing how to "make." My previous jobs were bureaucratic and office-based, and I felt particularly alienated.
I wanted the name to reference the Italian language. I chose "Argilla" because it was the word that connected me to my homeland, and then "Unurgent," which means "not urgent." Let me explain: ceramics are slow, and I like this certainty. You can't make it faster than it is; it needs its own time, it needs to be layered in terms of material, in terms of processes. I find that "urgency" is a very overused word. Ceramics require stability and durability; it is based on consequential relationships, on continuity, and on the layering of gestures and elements. Urgency, on the other hand, has a very different, sudden, co-present dimension that abuses our attention. Usually, you have to rethink it later.
Why clay and not something else?
I chose ceramics somewhat by chance; this project with clay arose from the need to "make" something thoughtful, concrete, and transformed with my hands. I've always been interested in the material itself. I come from a mountainous area and have always collected rocks. My uncle is a geologist, and when he returned from his travels, he always brought me rocks as gifts. There has always been this connection with the "earth" and geological interest.
Tell us about your inspiration...
I'm inspired by raw materials and the places where I collect them. I like the idea that clay is unassuming and can be found right under our feet, almost everywhere. I want my vases to be a direct reference to the place they come from and the material they are made of. I try to process the material as little as possible and let it be as little abstract as possible, allowing it to speak for itself.
What I create is a kind of archive, which is also somewhat autobiographical, because they are earths and rocks from places where I have lived or that have some symbolic relevance for me. I want to be as honest as possible with the material and its origin, its history, the work and process needed to transform it into an object with a defined shape and presence.
How long does it take you to make a vase?
It takes a couple of weeks to process the material, to sift it and rehydrate it. I work it on the wheel, and depending on the size of the vase and the difficulty, it takes about an hour in two sessions to make it. On the second day, when the clay is almost dry and holds its shape, I trim it and stamp my signature "UA" under the vase, along with information about the clay I used and where I collected it. The vase is named after the place where I collected the clay: Pantelleria, Stromboli, Lanzarote, etc. It dries in five days, a week at most, and then if it's a natural clay, it fires only once, reaching temperature in the kiln for 24/36 hours. If I also need to use a rock, I fire it once first, apply the rock, and then fire it a second time.
Why do you only make round vases? And where did you make the first one?
In ceramics, the round shape is a very classic form that has been revisited through different geographies, histories, and cultural periods. Technically, it's quite difficult, but for me, it was the simplest way to show the material for what it is.
I was in Kuala Lumpur when I made my first spherical vase. The shape is inspired by Korean 'mungers', because my teacher was Korean. These are round vases, much larger, white in color, and have a more rigorous shape than the ones I make.
Which piece best represents you?
It's definitely a round vase. Probably one of the last pieces from Pantelleria, which contains this volcanic sand of basalt and rhyolite that has melted into the clay body. I like how they turned out; they are so imperfect yet at the same time perfect in their form.
The two Pantelleria vases, though made with the same material, have different shades. How is that possible?
I collect the material and process it by hand in small quantities, so from each single material, I can make two, at most three vases. They are all different, even if spherical, because the material, being non-commercial, has a lot of personality. I tend to give it a shape, and it responds as it wishes. So even if I make two vases with the same material, these two will be different.
Your Life Motto?
“I would prefer not to.” It’s a refusal from a scrivener to a Wall Street lawyer. He responds to any bureaucratic, work, or urgent request with this super simple phrase that completely disarms him.
What are the strengths of your project?
I think I've found my path because, for the first time, I feel like I don't have to compromise who I am. I want my work to be honest, simple, almost a bit austere, not tiring to the eye, and not ironic, pop, or too loud. Working with earth also has a very strong political dimension, but I am only beginning to understand the often problematic implications of working with natural resources, clays, and minerals, even when done locally and on a small scale. In the future, I would like to work more on this aspect.
The cognitive aspect behind the material, which is almost scientific and experimental, is the part of the work I love most. Before I can use a material, I have to test it, understand what happens at different temperatures, if I mix it with others, if I leave it completely pure, or if I break it down into fine powder or granular powder. The chemical, technical, and geological knowledge of ceramics is very interesting.
What did you dream of as a child?
I dreamed of doing a bit of everything, from architect to astronaut. I don't come from an artistic background; I graduated in economics and worked at the UN and in non-profits for several years.
What's your daily uniform?
I mostly wear a pair of jeans that are covered in clay by the end of the day, bearing all the marks from throwing on the wheel. I like the seriality of work and studio uniforms, which then become a unique canvas with the signs and wear of every gesture and every clay I use. I'm currently working on a project to use clay as a pigment and textile dye, inspired precisely by the stains on my pants.
