Story and photos by Kerry Gaynor/Murphy News Service

If you Google the name David Swenson, the results show you the chief investment officer at Yale, several hits for a yoga master, but none for the ceramicist with that name. That’s because he goes by Swen. With influences from music and a good sense of humor, Swenson makes accessible art pieces that are all his own.

To see the 31-year-old work is hypnotizing. He can take a big mound of clay and swiftly turn it into cups, bowls, swirled handles and more. He works, quietly narrating as he goes along and sometimes getting clay in his beard. Before you know it, there’s a fantastical piece of art in front of you.

“I like to run in screaming,” he said. “I think it’s important to take risks and roll the dice … fit things together that might not supposed to be together.”

Swenson said he started working in ceramics almost by accident, taking classes from a favorite professor at community college in Rhode Island, his home state. He ended up transferring to the New York State College of Ceramics at Alfred University where he graduated with a BFA in 2009.

Erin Paradis is a graduate arts student at the U and was finishing up her own BFA at Alfred when Swenson transferred in.

“I just remember being really blown away by the work that he was producing … He kind of came out of nowhere it seemed like … but you could sense his dedication and excitement in working with clay that you don’t feel from many people that intensely.” Paradis said.

In one session Swenson was making a very involved sculpture piece, a type of baroque-architecture-meets-sci-fi space-station. With a mixture of hand-built, thrown and molded pieces, along with dozens of handles bent and curled in different ways, he said it was an elaborate stand for a cup.

Along with strong influence from architecture, Swen has interesting ideas to conceptualize his pieces: sculptures that push physical limits; pots that need each other; a coffee mug you’re not completely aware of to be instinctively grabbed first thing in the morning. The latter of these is the hardest to make, he said.

After college, Swenson was accepted into the Fogelberg Fellowship Program at the Northern Clay Center in Minneapolis, which he chose over a paid residency in New York. To pull together money for the halfway-across-the-country trip, he sold music equipment. Then, all three of the jobs he had lined up in Minnesota fell through upon his arrival.

Art isn’t terribly lucrative, Swenson said, but through the power of word-of-mouth, he found other work, including negotiating his way into a teaching position at the Northern Clay Center. That, combined with construction work for his landlord in exchange for rent, helped Swen stay afloat.

Now, he’s still doing teaching, working with adults at the Northern Clay Center and a lot with students in high schools and after-school programs. Working with kids gives him a lot of inspiration and brings back playful ideas; they’re not scared of the physical limits of clay, not afraid if a piece collapses or falls over, he said.

“The kids need [the teaching] and the artist needs the support, too,” he said, adding that it’s fun for him to help people. “Art can be really intimidating if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

The level of accessibility in an art piece is something that’s very important to Swenson. Earlier this year, he received a grant to be one of three Jerome artists at the Northern Clay Center. The grant project gave him the opportunity to experiment with 3-D printing and combine two of his loves: art and music.

Using slip-cast clay bells, Swenson made a gigantic working synthesizer. Complete with big, cartoonish knobs, he wanted people to feel comfortable coming up and interacting with the art.

“I typically prefer funny art, something that’s not taking itself very seriously … It’s just fun most of it. I’m trying to lighten the spirt,” Swenson said.

Swenson’s studio is in Longfellow’s Bottle Rocket art space. The massive warehouse is haphazardly divided by makeshift walls and rooms. Past a T-shirt press program and the giant poster of a T-Rex, through the narrow plywood hallways is his shared studio space.

There he has throwing wheels, a kiln and a stockpile of supplies. And the rent is cheap, he says.

Although fun to make, Swenson said he’s not seeing himself in his current pieces, which are a lot more practical in nature, with intricate surface designs, some featuring chicken heads. Part of his struggle is making sense of who he’s creating these pieces for. He wants his creation to be an entryway of sorts.

“No matter what you do, you got to be into it … People can tell if they know you didn’t care about a piece,” he said.

With a style that is all over the place, it can be challenging getting his art into galleries and showcases. Recently however, he participated in the Midnight Brigade’s Stool Sample art show, an art show of literal stools. “Now that’s my kind of humor,” he added, laughing.

In the meantime, Swenson is playing guitar with a few local music ventures. He sees ceramics as a “punk rock art process,” using fire to make rocks and glass. For him, art and music go hand-in-hand.

This summer, Swenson will be in a workshop program at North Carolina’s Penland School of Crafts. He’s also tackling his to-do list, including creating an online media presence when he can show off his work.

“I probably think too much … but maybe that’s a good thing,” he said.

Reporter Kerry Gaynor is studying journalism at the University of Minnesota.