Katie CoughlinBrooklyn, New York


Katie Coughlin was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. She took her first ceramics class at the age of 14, starting her obsession with clay. She attended Alfred University and received a BFA, with a concentration in ceramics, in 2010. That summer she had the opportunity to intern at Anderson Ranch, followed by a 3-month travelling stint of Europe. She then moved across the globe to Juneau, Alaska and worked at The Canvas, an art center for adults with developmental disabilities. She was then awarded the 2011 Long Term Residency at the Red Lodge Clay Center and has enjoyed being in the mountains for the past year.

Through the aesthetic of the handmade I attempt to create objects that stem from a notion of beautiful delicacy and refinement. Questioning simple materials: clay, wood, and cloth, individually and in relation to each other, I strive to create objects that prompt nostalgia. Yearning for the romance of bygone eras, I try to access a world, which no longer exists except perhaps in a few inaccessible and forgotten spots. Our existence is a story made up of past happenings, leading us to remain with memories that capture and purify images and sensations. Preserving life through the people we meet and the fragments of thought they leave behind, we hold on to memory in order to move forward. Instigated from a nomadic lifestyle, the constant disruption of relationships and the presentation of ourselves to the world, I question the fragile balance of remembering. Exposing an atmosphere of familiarity, yet still invoking curiosity to comprehend what is in front of oneself, I explore the simple expression of complex memory, thought and experience. Memories are desirable manifestations because complete access to them is unattainable. I am intrigued by this inaccessible part of the psyche- the place where your imagination begins and conscious thoughts end. The mind is a place where one is able to keep secrets, travel, envelop and protect oneself.
Stemming from my childhood memories of the library as a safe haven and the romantic nostalgia created when invited into someone’s own private collection, my need to make has been indulged with the creation of a private anthology based on my own thoughts.