"My work is influenced by the visual world around me. I love color and the way light can change the feeling of an object. I try to see the clay with my fingers, not looking at it directly but unconscious -subconscious off center, eventually arriving at the form and expression. Over the years I have invented an alternative universe, from where I obtain the images that emerge from the unfired clay. The moods I have, the light of day, the seasons, all influence the colors I use. Jewel tones reflect the captured light of thousands of years. The faces in my masks are characters out of a dream, not real faces, just cartoons, sketches, fleeting images exposed by flickering lights and evanescent thoughts."

I work with either a terra cotta or white earthenware clay body that is kiln fired to 2000F. The clay is rolled into thin slabs and cut into slabs and cut into shape. Using a large collection of tools, found objects, carved stamps and rollers, I create a richly textured abstract surface. The cut and patterned pieces are then drape molded and hand formed.

A studio potter since 1978, I do all the clay and "color work" in my studio. Occasionally, someone helps glue backs on mirrors or packs orders to be shipped to galleries. I used my grandmother's rolling pin until 2001 when I finally broke down and got a slab roller.

I am currently exploring multi-layering and multi-firing of low fire glazes.

Text By: Sherry Chayat

Running through Manya Goldstein's work like a streak of quicksilver is a quirky sense of humor. From her wall-mounted fish that tell time, to her masks that reveal inner states of being, these pit-fired and Raku Clay objects offer wry, yet tender insights into the condition of being human.

Although not functional in the manner of ceramic tableware, Goldstein's work serves an equally important need: that of personal adornment. Whether worn on the body, placed on a table or hung on a wall, her pieces enhance and enliven their owners' lives.

Like pictures within pictures or stories within stories, her jewelry and masks are often embellished with adornments of thier own: detachable ear rings and pins that can be worn separately or as ensembles.

Goldstein combines a refined sense of design and color with an intuitive appreciation for the art of non-Western and indigenous cultures. Like the Spanish painter Joan Miro, her work springs from a vision that is at once innocent and whimsical, direct and filled with wonder.

For her pit-fired ceramics, Goldstein uses either a metal can or sections of metal pipes from an old furnace, combining straw, sawdust, and leaves from a red maple tree in front of her studio to use as combustibles. Over the smokey, shadowy patterns that weave across the surfaces of the fired pieces, she applies layers of polychrome pigments and metallic stains. These works bring to mind ancient treasures unearthed in some far-off archaeological dig, their gilded surfaces still gleaming through the ravages of time.

In her Raku, she uses a low-temperature firing technique that dates back to 16th century Japan. The piece is placed directly into the kiln and then, while still red-hot, transferred into a container of combustible materials, which ignite. The resulting smoke creates random and unpredictable patterns and textures.