cupcake stands
I am fascinated with making cake and cupcake stands - I love how these objects are both functional and celebratory. This resonates deeply with my Italian heritage, where food is central to social gatherings and connection. Food is not just sustenance; it's about shared experiences, weaving memories, laughter, and stories.
My series of individual cupcake stands are miniature creations that celebrate the simple pleasure of a sweet treat, a moment of personal indulgence in a world often focused on the bigger picture. Crafting them is a playful exploration – hand-building techniques, colored clays that whisper of childhood, and glazes that shimmer and sparkle like sprinkle on a cupcake.
My inspiration comes from unexpected corners, like the playful world of my four-year-old niece. Buttons morph into planets, garlands and star stencils evoke memories of the circus and carousels, and delicate flowers bloom on sugary-like glazes. These whimsical details transform my cupcake stands into tiny worlds of pure delight, a reminder that joy can be found in the smallest, most unexpected places.
My cupcake stands celebrate the individual over the collective, the quiet pleasure of a single cupcake enjoyed on one's own terms. They redefine what a celebration can be, reminding us that even a small treat can be a moment of self-care and a reason to cherish life's simple pleasures. These objects challenge the notion that "bigger is always better," encouraging us to slow down, appreciate the small things, and find joy in the personal moments of indulgence.
These miniature cake stands are more than functional; they're a playful reminder to embrace life with a touch of childlike wonder, a spark of delight in the everyday, and a gentle nudge to celebrate yourself.
Working with clay brings me immense joy, a feeling I hope to transfer into my creations. As a professional chef, I turned to using clay as a means to create the wares to present my food, and I fell in love with the process. This is utility ware but with a twist that playfully answers a need, beginning with my own: lanterns for the garden, doorknobs and shelves for the house, dishes and placeholders for my father’s dinner guests, butter crocks and salt pigs for my chef friends. The aesthetics are inspired by my own memories of design and textiles from my childhood in Italy.
Argilla means clay in Italian (from the Latin argīlla and the Greek árghilos). I am drawn to the contrast between clay’s primordial simplicity and its high symbolic presence in the myths of human creation. I love how almost every ancient culture believes that their Gods molded people out of clay while also giving people the capability to mold what they need from the very same material.
