We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Maxwell Henderson a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Maxwell, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.

During my freshman year of high school in 2012. Honestly, I took ceramics just to get my fine art credit out of the way early, because I didn’t care about it. I never thought art was for people like me anyway. Growing up in poverty, stressing over how to ration food stamps every month, and dealing with stuff at home, like witnessing drug abuse, art felt inaccessible and a bit elitist. And then, there was this whole racial identity issue — too often hearing ‘What are you?’ like people had the agency to dictate the validity of my Blackness. Internally, I let them.

But this is why I share a kinship with clay, because it’s too often ignored and literally stepped on. Making pottery gave me a sense of control that I never felt before. Pots taught me that I deserve access to beautiful objects that I wasn’t afforded to. Better yet, I have the skill sets to create them for myself and others. Through making, I learned that masking who I am is not only unnecessary, but harmful (though I still find myself doing it). Each day in the studio reaffirms that the nuance of my humanity deserves to be valued—by me, if not anyone else. Feeling that as a 15 year old is how I decided so quickly and so early on that art is what I need to do.

Maxwell, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

I guess I did that a bit in the first question.

My name is Maxwell Henderson. I was born in 1996 and grew up in Mesa Arizona. Again, I discovered ceramics my freshman of high school, and I’ve been working with ceramics for about 12 years now. I got my BFA from Arizona State University, my MFA at University of Nebraska-Lincoln, and I also studied for a year at Penn State in-between my degrees. I am currently a resident artist at Red Lodge Clay Center in Montana.

I mostly create sculptural vessels and glazed porcelain tiles. In my vessels, I painstakingly pierce thousands of holes into which I then insert thousands of hand-rolled sticks of colorful glaze. In the kiln, they melt and bend on top of each other while maintaining their individual form. My other focus involves my use of commercial porcelain tiles and a distinctive palette of bold, translucent overglazes that I have formulated through years of meticulous experimentation. This experimentation involved delving into esoteric articles on X-ray diffraction experiments on centuries old Japanese Kutani porcelain and deciphering complex technical language and chemical formulas. Once fired, they manifest in a vibrant translucency and a grounding fluid energy of colors that reflect natural phenomena, like Iceland’s volcanic rivers. Right now, these tiles exist as individual works, but my aim is to scale up production and begin larger installations that transform interior spaces into immersive experiences.

I think what I’m most proud of is transcending my circumstances. Making art a career isn’t easy for most, but it’s almost impossible for those who come from nothing. Everything I explore creatively are all rooted in the concept of “qualia,” the subjective quality of our conscious experiences that shape our humanity. Each object draws from what I notice in life in some shape or form.

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

Change entirely. I guess I can only speak on American culture. But I believe this collective way of thinking in binaries severely inhibits the liminality of being human. You see it in politics, and even art. Republican/Democrat, Artist/Craftsperson. All this does is strip away our autonomy, unique identities, and what it means to be human.

My friend, John Domenico, started a non-profit art collective in Denver called La Serra Collective. I believe adhering to perspective of the collective’s mission statement would likely resolve most of the issues we experience. The statement reads:

“Art should be for everyone. Art makes us feel connected and tapped into the underlying root system of human communication. Art inspires a sense of awe and wonder about not only our own human disposition but humanity as a whole. It builds on our sense of self value and engages us to think critically and independently. Art protests binaries, highlights nuance, and presents a view of the world based on quality – challenging and progressing our cultural value system. Art gives meaning and mode to life.

Too often, art is accessible only to those with a certain level of education or wealth. La Serra aims to transform the way we culturally understand art; breaking down social and financial barriers… We believe those ideas and experiences will equip us and our community to challenge and progress our culture in a direction that is better prepared to navigate the political, social and environmental challenges of our time.”

What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?

Unlearning resenting my circumstances and past. When I was at Penn State, I was having a particularly bad day and my professor Chris Staley said something along the lines of “when something bad happens, it’s valid to feel upset in the moment. Just know though that one day, this experience will inevitably lead to something positive in ways you cannot predict.”

That stuck with me.

It makes me think of who I’d be had I not made difficult decisions and endured barriers and uncertain circumstances. I don’t know if I’d want to meet the version of me that didn’t, because it’s these experiences that make me who I am.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @mh_pottery
• Email: [email protected]