Caz Azevedo
Fallen, 2017
​Ceramics, Intaglio prints, wood, wire, denim, cotton t-shirts, wheat paste, natural pigments, oil, acrylic, 108" x 47" x 32"

Fallen begins with research through a visual dissection of a personal observation, and exploration of intimate details of the object of my study:  the fallen tree.  What about this that draws my interests?  There is a majestic history that narrates a past told by my vivid imagination while reading the remains of redwood trunks along a random path one day. Perhaps it is the imprint of organic textures left by the once living cells that created this structure.  How does it compare to other existing forms that age with cracks, breaks, and rotting hollow holes as it lies in its own debris of dislodged particles.  How am I this tree?  I collect material and make pigments from the tree, dirt and surroundings from the site to be used within my work, and revisit the site often, establishing a relationship with the fallen trees and the space which for me now becomes a nostalgic setting.  I become obsessed with fallen objects that I come across and ponder the liminal act of falling.  By inducing a sense of falling through meditation, I replay a feeling of vertigo until my body tingles with a sensation of falling but by instinct I catch myself, grabbing a grounded object for balance.  To better understand what it is like to be the fallen, I lie on the ground as still and stiff as the lifeless tree without movement.  Later I appreciate the right to move free and not to be contained by motionless.
                In the end, this project is more than just about the fallen tree.  It perhaps speaks in relation of what it means to fall, much of the time by the hand of another, and left to be abandoned, or parted for some other type of distribution.  A tree that once stood tall in the forest falls, and the people wander if it made a sound.  I ask the people, if you fell, what sound would you make?  There are many who have fallen no different than this tree, yet many have been disregarded as this one has been.

Caz Azevedo
Withered Rose, 2017
​Natural pigments, ink, paper, cotton t-shirts, wood
​40" x 36"

Detail of ​Withered Rose

Withered Rose,​  was created in part as an experiment and study of the selected tree that I used for my representation of Fallen.  ​Pigments were taken from the tree bark and dirt of the site, and used with other natural materials to create the colors that were applied to a recycled wood panel, in which a custom frame was built to support the wheat-pasted strands of torn t-shirts, including them within the composition.  ​It is part of my continuing research of natural pigments and traditional application methods, yet with a contemporary hand.

Caz Azevedo
​Dirty Little Secrets, 2017
​ceramic 10" x 6" x 5"
​(20 pieces at average of  1.5" x 1.5" x 1" each)

There is great value in secrets and to trust another with them leaves the chance that they may still become exposed.  How does one share their most personal information with others without the risk of being shamed?  This project is formulated by twenty ceramic keepers of my dirtiest secrets written on paper and embedded into the clay before firing.  The evidence is burned in the kiln, leaving the essence of the forever disclosed secret within the rock-like vessel, the keeper.   I have placed my keepers in various locations on campus at the University of California, Berkeley, where they will remain to exist within the surroundings of the public.  Their locations are significant to my time spent at Berkeley;  the paths that I have walked, places where I have studied, and spaces where I have created art.  I invite the viewer to get nosey, if they are so intrigued, and seek out my hidden treasures.

The Process of the Keeper:
​Material came from the deepest areas of sink traps within the clay and glaze areas of the UCB ceramic lab and mixed with recycled porcelain and dried underglaze in order to form the secret keepers.   Secrets were then written on paper and embedded into the clay vessel where they burned away during the firing process, leaving only their charred imprint of their existence.