Movement and the Language of Fragility: The Ceramic Sculpture of Joana Aleixo

Movement is the starting point of Joana Aleixo's sculptural research. With a background that bridges visual arts, dance, and architecture (PhD), the artist explores the relationship between matter, space, and the sculptural act. The sculptural act emerges from a distinct perception of movement that sculpture acquires.

Working primarily with ceramics, her practice is grounded in an experimental process that directly confronts the expressive limits of clay, while embracing its fragilities. Cracks are not flaws, they are part of the whole. She seeks the moment when balance appears on the verge of giving way, and when the rigidity of the material yields to movement.

Through this process, the sculptor embraces fragility as an identity and transforms it into strength and sculptural language. Pushing the work to its limits becomes an act of liberation (physical and emotional).

Could you introduce yourself and tell us about your journey as an artist? When did sculpture become your primary form of artistic expression?

My name is Joana. I studied and worked in architecture for nearly 20 years, including academic research and a PhD in Architecture. Alongside this, I have always drawn, painted, and danced.

About three years ago, I decided to finally dedicate myself to what I had always wanted to do: fine arts. I initially planned to focus on painting, which I have never completely stopped doing. But at a certain point, I remembered how fascinated I had been by ceramics as a child and went to learn more about it.

I immediately felt that working with clay came very naturally to me. As I created new pieces, I realized that dance, spatial thinking, three-dimensionality, and sculpture were deeply embedded in who I am, and were shaping the way I approached the material. I believe it was at that point that sculpture became my primary form of artistic expression.

What is your educational background? Where did you study art or sculpture, and which teachers, artistic movements, or experiences had the greatest influence on your development?

I studied art in secondary school, where I had the opportunity to explore various artistic mediums, and later studied Architecture. My architectural education developed and refined my ability to conceive and work with space, and I believe spatial and volumetric thinking is very present in my work. But equally present, if not more so, is dance, which has shaped my perception of the body and its relationship with the space around it. I believe this awareness contributes greatly to the organic language and sense of movement in my sculptures.

When I began my sculptural practice, I discovered Loïe Fuller and immediately identified with her work. Her pursuit of movement representation, through dance, became very important to my own exploration of form and artistic expression in sculpture.

In sculpture, my greatest passion remains Rodin. The way he studied and captured movement was so masterful and fascinating that he continues to inspire me constantly. I also particularly admire Kurokawa Toru, Yukiya Izumita, Ulli Zerzer, and Adrian Bates for the way they explore and express the material, as well as their approach to scale, which has expanded my understanding of the possibilities of ceramic sculpture.

What first attracted you to three-dimensional form, and what can sculpture communicate for you that painting or drawing cannot?

The possibility of going further; the fact that sculpture allows me to approach a reality and then move away from it, go beyond it, transcend it, and challenge its limits. Sculpture allows me to explore materiality in all its dimensions, to express who I am, and to create an extension of myself through the process of shaping the work.

I felt this need in painting as well, which may be why I began introducing wood into some of my canvases, combining it with oil or acrylic. The wood establishes a rhythm within the composition while also introducing a sense of three-dimensionality. But ultimately, it was not enough.

Movement appears to be central to your work. Many of your sculptures seem to twist, unfold, rise, or expand through space. What does movement represent within your artistic practice?

Yes, movement is very central to my work. The strategies I apply to my sculptures, whether repetition of elements, the interplay between solid and void, apparent imbalance, twisting, contrasts, and so on, emerge intuitively as ways of expressing movement. But the movement I seek is never purely formal or without meaning.

What I want the viewer to perceive is, in many ways, an extension of the movement I experienced while interpreting a particular subject, and of the movement that emerged through the dialogue I gradually developed with the work itself, with the surrounding space, and ultimately with the viewer. In that sense, the process can feel almost like interpreting a choreographed dance, where movement is not simply represented but translated into another form.

I would say that movement is what drives my practice. It is transferred from me into the sculpture and, hopefully, from the sculpture to the viewer.

Your abstract sculptures often consist of repeated or layered elements that resemble folds, pages, waves, wings, or organic structures. How did this distinctive sculptural language develop?

I have always been fascinated by texture and contrast. Working with very thin, repeated layers initially allowed me to create surfaces in which repetition itself became a form of texture.

The texture created through repetition gradually became an integral part of the sculptural form, contributing to the organic character of the sculptures and, importantly, to their sense of movement.

From this initial exploration of thin layers, I gradually began to work with larger elements, sometimes positioned close together, sometimes further apart, and connected only at certain points. This led me to think of negative space as an active component of the sculpture. The empty spaces are not simply what remains between the elements, but something that shapes and controls the form as much as the material itself.

There is an interesting tension between strength and fragility in your work: some forms appear monumental, while their thin edges and layered structures can seem extremely delicate. Is this contrast important to you?

Definitely. In my experimental process, I confront the expressive limits of clay through extremely thin slabs, micro-fissures, and apparent imbalances. This allows me to capture the moment when material tension transforms into sculptural expression, suggesting lightness and an organic quality. The tension between strength and fragility begins here. I explore fragility as an identity, seeking to show that within it lies a real strength, one capable of becoming a sculptural language.

When I began working on a larger scale, I wanted to explore the impact that larger sculptures can have on the space around them without losing that sense of tension and lightness. That is why, even at a larger scale, I continue to push the material to its limits.

It is worth adding, however, that although these sculptures may appear fragile, they are internally reinforced, either through elements that are thicker at the center than at the edges, or through the use of glaze or internal wire reinforcement.

Your sculptures frequently balance between stillness and motion, as if we are seeing a single moment within a continuing transformation. Are ideas of time and transformation important to your work?

Yes. There is a short quote from Rosalind E. Krauss's book Passages in Modern Sculpture that I particularly like to use in my texts: “(...) sculpture is a medium peculiarly located at the juncture between stillness and motion, time arrested and time passing. From this tension, which defines the very condition of sculpture, comes its enormous expressive power.”

I seek to create a sense of movement in pieces that are static. I want to activate emotions, establish dialogues and relationships, and create the sense that something is happening within the viewer when, in reality, the object itself is still. I also want the work to be newly discovered each time it is revisited, giving the impression that it is in continuous transformation. This is a challenge. I believe it is one of the great challenges of sculpture, and also one of its greatest fascinations.

Material and surface play a strong role in your sculptures, from deep black and dark brown finishes to raw, earthy, and textured surfaces. How do you select your materials and finishes, and how do they influence the meaning of a piece?

In addition to texture, which is fundamental to my sculptures, I work extensively with shadows, nuances, and areas of light and darkness, created through the application of a protective wax mixed with black iron oxide.

I rarely use glazes because I do not want to lose the organic quality I seek to achieve. The wax provides the necessary waterproofing and protection, while also allowing me to work with shadows almost as if I were painting.

Shadows heighten the sense of three-dimensionality and intensify it. They also create a contrast with the natural surface of the material, where no oxide is applied, only wax. This emphasizes the material itself and creates a language of contrasts that reinforces the organic quality of the sculpture and, in turn, its sense of movement.

Some works are highly abstract, while others incorporate recognizable human figures. How are these two directions connected within your practice, and what determines when the human body becomes part of a sculpture?

The abstract allows me greater freedom to explore movement and fragility. At the same time, I sometimes turn to the human figure when I want to address more personal or emotionally charged subjects.

This is the case with the wall mural “O salto” (The Jump). The work was created in response to a specific moment in the life of the person who commissioned it. I wanted the sculpture to resonate with him, and I understood that he was facing a moment when he had to decide whether to take another significant step in his life. This led me to the image of a human figure held at just three points, suspended between hesitation and the preparation for a leap.

Although figurative, the work remains closely connected to my broader investigation of movement. It exists between stillness and action, while also introducing a sense of suspended time. I wanted the figure to appear fragile, even though the structure is quite strong, reinforced with wire at its points of connection. The textured surface of the base introduces an organic quality that contrasts with the smoother surface of the human figure, creating another tension within the work.

Could you take us through your creative process from the initial idea to the finished sculpture? Do you begin with drawings and models, or does the final form develop through direct interaction with the material?

I think of my creative process as a dialogue with the sculpture as it develops. There is a physical and intuitive dimension to this process. My approach is therefore not entirely predetermined. Some sculptures are conceived and drawn before I begin working with the material. Others emerge more instinctively, and I only turn to drawing when I reach a moment of hesitation or need to clarify a direction. There are also works in which I do not use drawing at all.

When I do draw, the drawing is mainly a way of establishing the initial idea. The final sculpture always takes on a different form, shaped by the material itself and by the decisions that emerge during the making process. In this sense, the sculpture gradually develops its own voice, and I have to remain open to responding to it.

Negative space is especially important in many of your works—the openings between layers become almost as visible as the material itself. How do you approach the relationship between solid form and empty space?

My sculptures are often composed of multiple elements, each relating to the others in a specific way. The spaces between them, their distance, proximity and points of connection, make these relationships, and the final form itself, more complex. At the same time, these spaces make the sculpture permeable, giving it another dimension beyond its material presence. The openings between the different layers allow the work to be viewed from multiple perspectives, enhancing the perception of its three-dimensionality and deepening the sense of movement.

For me, the empty space is therefore not simply what remains between the solid elements. It becomes an active part of the sculpture, shaping how the work is perceived and experienced in space.

Your sculptures can change considerably depending on the viewer’s position. How important are movement around the work, light, shadow, and the surrounding architectural space to the way your sculptures are experienced?

Movement around the sculptures and the way they are illuminated are essential to fully discovering the different relationships and details that each piece reveals. As the viewer moves around the work, its form can shift considerably, while light and shadow introduce further layers of perception, bringing certain elements forward and allowing others to recede.

The surrounding architectural space also has a strong influence on how the sculptures are experienced. Many of my works gain particular presence when placed alone in large, open interiors, especially when elevated on a high plinth. Because I often work with dark tones and shadows, white or neutral architectural environments can create a strong contrast, allowing the forms and their shadows to become more pronounced.

There is, therefore, a natural affinity between my sculptures and contemporary, minimalist architecture. I am interested in spaces that allow the work to be experienced from different viewpoints, where there is enough openness for the sculpture, the viewer, light, and shadow to enter into a continuous dialogue.

Which exhibitions, awards, publications, residencies, collections, commissions, or other professional achievements have been the most significant milestones in your career so far?

This is still a relatively recent stage in my artistic career, as I only began submitting my work to open calls and exhibitions this year. Nevertheless, it has already been a very meaningful period, marking the beginning of a more active public presentation of my sculptural practice.

So far, I have had the opportunity to exhibit in two group exhibitions in Portugal, and was also selected for a ceramic artist residency in Lisbon, which will lead to two exhibitions, one in Lisbon and another in Porto. Another important milestone has been being selected for the September edition of the American magazine Ceramics Monthly, as part of its Bold Choices contest. More recently, being invited by Naumy to take part in this interview and in its online exhibition has been a particularly significant opportunity to share my work with an international audience.

Was there a particular sculpture, series, exhibition, mentor, or experience that became a turning point in your career and helped you define your own artistic language?

So far, I would say that “Dialogs” has been one of the most significant works in my artistic journey. At the same time, I feel that my artistic language began to become more defined through two other works: an untitled sculpture, which was the first in which I began bringing together very thin layers to create a more organic quality, and “On the Edge”, through which I began exploring movement by pushing the material’s plastic capacity to its limits.

These two works marked an important shift in the way I began to approach fragility and strength, which have since become central to my practice.

What are you currently exploring, and where would you like to take your practice next—larger-scale or public sculpture, installations, new materials, collaborations, or international exhibitions?

I am currently beginning to explore the possibilities of using metal not only as a supporting element, but as a more prominent material in dialogue with ceramics. I also want to continue working at a larger scale, as this is a dimension that fascinates me and constantly challenges me to go further.

Looking ahead, I would love to take part in international exhibitions and develop new collaborations. I particularly enjoy working with other artists, and I am interested in creating projects where different practices can come together to generate works with a strong sense of movement and presence.

Interested in discovering more from this talented artist?
Explore the portfolio, follow new projects, and connect through the link below.

• Website: joanaaleixo.com
• Instagram: @joanaraleixo
• Email: joanaraleixo@gmail.com