Mark Heimann

Lost Mountain Clayworks is the pottery studio of Mark Heimann, located in the lush forests of western Oregon.His work is deeply spiritual, often inspired by Viking, Native American and Eastern cultures.

That being said, Captain Quicksilver is the rough-and-tumble alter ego of Heimann, and it is he who commands Quicksilver's Pirate Pots, the brutal and seaward dealings of Lost Mountain!

Launched May 2006
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- Mark Heimann, Lost Mountain

"Wow! It's wonderful!

"I love classic forms," says Mark Heimann, "and I'll always love them.But right now I want to make the clay shout."Heimann is the proprietor of Lost Mountain Clayworks, a private studio hidden in the wooded hills of Estacada.

"You reach plateaus in art, and you can get stuck in a drudge," Heimann says."I had some pieces that I found really disappointing.It was flat.It didn't work for me." Instead of continuing on in a frustrating style, he decided to explode the boundaries."I'm trying to loosen up in my work."

Loosening up for Heimann means playing, and he becomes excited discussing his newest works, which he calls "parodies" of pottery.His sense of humor has taken physical form in a series of elaborately misshapen jugs and platters speckled with impressions of bugs and lizards.One jug has a handle decorated with spiders."People don't like to handle bugs," Heimann says, "so I've made a handle that people don't want to handle."Another jug, with an odd, tongue-like protrusion jutting out from its side, he calls "Mick Jugger."

To create his visual puns, Heimann calls on the aid of a bowl full of toy spiders, snakes, shells, dinosaurs, and lizards, which he uses to make imprints in the clay.One jug, with a large hoop-ring hanging from its spout, Heimann says mimics the current self-mutilation fad, and he's considering following that idea further with a jug pierced all over."You've heard the term functional pottery?"he asks."This is dysfunctional pottery."

Not that it can't be used.Heimann says that his fully glazed dishes, bowls, mugs, jugs, and platters can all be drunk and supped from, and machine-washed afterwards."I like pots that you can use," he says."You don't have to be afraid to pick them up."Many of his more decorative pieces, however - spotted with striking paw prints and petroglyphs - would serve just as well on display only."It's more than just an object when you make something out of clay," Heimann insists."It carries from you into the lives of others, and I think that's a really important link."

Heimann started Lost Mountain in 1991, after a 10-year sabbatical from the art world.With a degree in art history from Princeton, he set up a successful studio on the Gulf Coast of Florida in the mid '70s, but by 1981 he had grown weary of the tourist economy."I sold everything and moved to Oregon," he says."I'd been out here once in the '70s and loved it."Instead of going back into art, Heimann went the other direction.He got a job as the Multnomah County Emergency Medical Service Communication Coordinator."I dealt with 911 issues and ambulance dispatch," he says.By 1991, he was ready to re-explore his creative side.

Since then, he's established himself well.His work sells in over 10 local galleries, including the popular Lawrence Gallery in McMinnville, Trails End Gallery in Carver, and the gift shop at the Japanese Gardens, in addition to several three day craft fairs.

Another venue for Heimann to display his work is the holiday show "Essence of Fire," which opens Saturday Nov. 9 at 3303 SE Division.Organized by a collective of 23 area clayworkers, "Essence of Fire" started two years ago as an alternative to selling from galleries, some of which, Heimann says, charge up to 50 per cent commission on sales."Essence of Fire" charges 20 per cent, just enough to cover the cost of space rental and publicity.

"It's a really alive space and a really positive environment," says Heimann, who is also publicity co-chair for the group.Each artist gets a display space, but each must also work an allotted number of hours as shop-keeper.Heimann says the displays rotate positions every week or so to keep the gallery fresh for return customers, and also to give everyone a chance in the prime locations next the windows and the door.While there's no guaranty of equal prosperity-and no accounting for the whims of the season-Heimann says that the experience is beneficial to all, if just for the meeting of like minds."We all know each other and we're all friends," he says."It's a very healthy situation."The makeshift gallery will have an artist's reception Saturday, Nov. 23, from 6 to 9 p.m.

Currently, Heimann says his best sellers are his dishes and Japanese lanterns, and there's no telling how the public will respond to his recent experiments.Risk, he says, is nothing new to a clayworker."You develop an 'Oh, well,' attitude," he says.