Jeffry Mitchell
Man and Pet
Two benign ceramic figures smile sweetly upward in Jeffry Mitchell’s Man and Pet. The man wraps his small companion in a hug, his arms extending in round arcs all the way to his feet. Though the expressions are strikingly similar—suggestive of Rockwellian Americana—the pet seems somewhat more genial and familiarly fuzzy than its owner, whose saurian pupils lend his face a reptilian air that belies his warm grin.
The Seattle-based sculptor Jeffry Mitchell creates cartoonlike creatures from low-fire earthenware. Their sympathetic expressions and modest size, combined with Mitchell’s style of globular, additive assembly, makes them seem accessible and charming, as if they want to be held. They are reminiscent of characters from Peanuts or The Flintstones, but they also draw on art historical tropes as potent and ancient as sex and religion. Beneath their unassuming facades they harbor a generous heap of musing, tongue-in-cheek critique.