There is an old joke that says the speed limit on the nation's highways should be based upon how boring the scenery is in the area you are driving through the less spectacular vistas would allow motorists to accelerate accordingly. So, for parts of Western Kansas, that means the speed limit should be about 135 mph.
(Insert sound of snare rimshot here.)
"Scenic Pastures," one of the ceramic sculptures by Lawrence artist Ryan Paget on display.
That's a good joke in that you can aim it anyplace in the world you want to insult, but in the process, someone's birthplace is also going to be besmirched. When Ryan Paget was growing up in the little Kansas hamlet of Scott City, he had his own share of derogatory comments to make about the wide open (i.e. seemingly boring) spaces surrounding him.
Ironically, now that he lives in the more metropolitan eastern side of the state, Paget has developed lots of warm feelings about his old hometown. More than that, he uses those affections to create his stoneware sculpture.
"When I first moved to Lawrence to go to KU, I almost hated the fact that my parents made me grow up there," Paget says. "Now I'm glad I lived there. I'd be a different person if I'd grown up in Kansas City, or God forbid, Olathe. There is a real rugged beauty out there that most people miss. That's what part of my work is about: making people notice the beauty that they would usually not see."
Paget graduated from Kansas University with a bachelor's degree in fine arts, with an emphasis on sculptures. He's always been into art, even eschewing participating on Scott City's vaunted high school football team so he could take extra classes.
"Meadowlark," one of the ceramic sculptures by Lawrence artist Ryan Paget on display.
It wasn't until he got to KU that he settled on sculptures.
"I started out as a biology major, then went into arts education," he says. "But I wasn't interested in teaching art. I wanted to be in a studio and make art. That was the first time I ever got to take ceramics classes. I'm easily impressionable, and if I had started in metal, I might have concentrated on that, instead."
Common Kiln
Paget's pieces have been displayed in student exhibits and juried competitions. And last year he got to show his work in Dodge City.
He likes to keep the work abstract enough that viewers can add to it what they want, but he follows enough of a theme so that there is a pattern of ideas expressed in each piece. Along with the philosophy he forged out West of finding beauty where you least expect it, more precise ideas from his rural childhood come through in his artwork.
"I go to the library and do a lot of research," Paget says. "I go around with my eyes wide open, looking at people and things. I have a form and a narrative, but for each piece there is a hundred different memories and stories. I don't try to guide people. They can choose their own narrative."
Paget's grandfather was a farmer, and he speaks proudly of those memories that are connected to the Kansas landscape.
"I used to follow my grandfather around, riding on the combine, or when he was checking the alfalfa or the cattle. I spent time with him, watching him work the land just like his father did," Paget says.
He has big plans for more work centering around his Western Kansas memories, including a project connected to the pristine Scott County lake, located north of Scott City on Highway 83. It's one of those places of beauty that most people will overlook on their way through the area. Nestled into a small canyon, surrounded by small hills and juniper shrubs, it's the location of the farthest north Indian pueblo ever found. It's also the site of a skirmish between American Indians and settlers. Most travelers don't even know it exists.
"When my parents moved out there, they drove through at night. When my mom went to sleep in the car, everything was flat. Then they drove through that lake area while she was asleep, and when she woke up all the terrain was flat again. My dad couldn't convince her that something like that existed out there," Paget says.
The artist is glad to call Lawrence home, if only for the reason that there is an enclave of fellow artists he can work with around a common kiln. This also involves outdoor labor, like chopping wood for when they fire the kiln up, so he's grateful for the cooperation of fellow artists.
He also thinks Lawrence is a great place to be creative, but doesn't pull any punches about a lack of financial support for area artists.
"It's an excellent community to make art in. It's not as good as it could be at showing art," he says. "People need to be out buying local art, but I have a feeling they buy it at Kansas City venues."
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