10 years of Rainmaker Studios

As always, with Ahmad’s work, the question is not whether I’ll see anything I like, but how I’ll choose from among the exquisite pieces of pottery he has on display. But then there always seems to be one piece that somehow pulls me to it, and that night it was a blue/green bowl with a coppery rim and an intriguing abstract design inside, as if the colors had been dancing. It reminded me of the aurora borealis, the Northern Lights, and I went home with it, deeply happy, but certain that I had not really paid enough for such a piece of art, something that I hope I will have and know I will love for a lifetime.

This year, Ahmad is celebrating 10 years among us, and I believe I’ve known him ever since he opened the doors of his studio. I thought it was exciting for Commerce to have an artist so visibly and accessibly at work in our midst, almost as if that divine spark of artistic creation might be contagious, or might somehow bless us all. And right from the beginning it blessed me, because Ahmad did children’s programs and special displays at the library, where I was working. One year he did an outdoor demonstration, firing a kiln in the library’s parking lot and inviting a fellow potter to show people the ancient and daring Japanese technique for making raku pottery, which was prized by the Zen masters of the 1500s and is cherished by collectors today.

But Ahmad’s work — though it may end up in galleries and museums someday — is “of the earth from which it’s made” (like us!). It lives well in kitchens and dining rooms. It’s to be used, not just admired. And Ahmad makes everything: cups and mugs, lamps and candelabra, bread trays, and a signature leaf-shaped serving dish that you will never see anywhere else. All bear the Rainmaker name and the year on the bottom (which I how I know when I bought my bowl).

I gave a friend a little Rainmaker pitcher recently, and she didn’t have to turn it over to know where it came from. “Oh, it’s Rainmaker, isn’t it!” she exclaimed, astonishing me. “I have several pieces of his,” she said. “I just love his work.”

So do I. And I guess I needn’t have worried about never owning any of it. When I retired Ahmad gave me a tumbler in the blues and greens he knows I love. Written in curving handwriting around the side are the words I should probably use as a mantra: “Serenity, please dance with me.”

Susan Harper is the former director of the Commerce Public Library. She lives in Commerce. This column was published July 8, 2009