Camilla Hanney's feminine forms subvert the fragile association of porcelain

‘I love the fleshy nature of tentacles and how they can change their size and form – they’re a way of talking about the body in a sort of visceral and alien way,’ says Camilla Hanney, who often integrates them into her porcelain sculptures. ‘I think about clay in a similar way – in its wet stage it also has those qualities, but once you put it in a kiln, it becomes rigid. I’m interested in trying to diminish that rigidity.’

One piece, Mother, Madonna, Monster, embodies this notion of fluidity – it’s an installation of porcelain female figures she has been adding to over time that comments on how women have been depicted in art through the ages. She has imbued these characters with a sense that they could climb out and live a life of their own.

Another collection of work, Sweet Temptation explores the relationship between bodies and domesticity. It comprises a series of decadent but precariously teetering cakes and fragments of body parts that the artist made in her kitchen during a lockdown.

‘I didn’t have my usual tools so I started using baking utensils,’ she says. ‘It struck me how similar clay and pastry are – in the act of rolling, decorating and putting it in a hot oven, and how both are kind of repulsive in their raw state. It occurred to me that we go to such efforts to neatly package and present food in ways that are artistic and pretty, and we also do that with our bodies.’

Hanney’s practice has always incorporated making, an initial fascination she attributes to her interest in the labour-intensive work many women in Ireland, where she grew up, were historically compelled to undertake – lacemaking was a source of income for poorer families, and women who were perceived to have sinned were frequently confined to workhouses where they undertook tasks such as needlework. ‘I’m interested in forgotten histories and creating connections with them in our current times,’ she says.

During her undergraduate degree in Dublin she was drawn to ephemeral, found materials (she completed a residency after graduating in which she created the appearance of an ornate carpet in an abandoned apartment using dust and ash) and to textiles. It was when playing with the latter after moving to London in 2017 to study fine art at Goldsmiths that she found her way to clay: she dipped lace gloves and doilies into porcelain slip and then fired the results so the fabric burned away, leaving her with fossil-like impressions of these objects.

Her work changed thematically, too, going beyond its overt references to Irish history to become more universal. It also became less didactic, as she sought to allow the work to speak for itself rather than through extensive explanatory text. Her central interest now is in the female body – the meanings attributed to it and the constraints that bind it. The sculptures she creates are an effort to shatter these associations, by symbolically subverting the feminine, dainty, fragile qualities of porcelain.

Personal references remain, however: a series of works called Mary in Metamorphosis nods to the quaint figurines of the Virgin Mary that she saw on mantelpieces growing up. ‘These genteel figures are there to emit a sense of virtue, but I have created female forms that are more true to women of our time and that give them more agency,’ says Hanney of her figures, which are draped in snake-like forms. ‘I was trying to play with the dichotomy between the Madonna, who is celebrated for her chastity, and the temptress.’

Another sculpture, a coiled pot in black porcelain, is a depiction of Medusa, a character often referenced when describing powerful women as frightening. Instead, the artist chose to emphasise Medusa’s protective qualities in the form of a vessel: ‘Her face is kind of smiling, embracing that monstrosity or rising above it.’

A bursary from Arts Council Ireland in 2020 allowed Hanney to move into her own studios in Greenwich, London, and devote herself to the meditative act of making at a time when so many continued to be stuck at home. The next step, she says, is to move up in scale, taking inspiration from large sculptures by the likes of Rachel Whiteread and Rachel Kneebone to challenge the medium of porcelain even further: ‘I’d like to create monumental works that still maintain a sense of fragility, which is difficult to do.’

The Royal Society of Sculptors' Gilbert Bayes Award exhibition was on view at Cromwell Place from 16 to 27 March 2022