“Much colder and more white people” were the two most obvious observations that the quirky Thomas Haskell, a “Trinbagonian sculptor and proud Caribbean queer”, described when he first moved to Toronto from Trinidad and Tobago in 2008. Just over 10 years later, I met up with him in his rented corner of a Distillery District studio space.
From the moment his grandmother exposed him to clay in church as a means of silencing him, Haskell has exhibited an ongoing relationship with ceramics as a medium.
“I started out in polymer clay and there was just a natural progression from what I had learned to what I had [eventually] taught myself in ceramics… I like utilizing sculpture more than any other medium I partake in because for me it’s the most immediate. I have the quickest pathway, for me mentally, from what I see in my head to what I can make in my hands. What I can physically do”
“The clay will tell you how it’s doing, how it feels, what it wants, what it doesn’t want. You know when you’re pushing it too hard, you know when it can do much more. I like that interplay between, you know, yourself and the clay. It’s very human.”
You may recognize Haskell as one of the rotating panellist members on MTV Canada’s hit series 1 Girl 5 Gays, which frankly addressed an array of queer issues. Haskell didn’t openly express his sexuality, however, until his 3rd year at York University studying Visual Arts where his artistic interests soon transpired into academic ones. Ultimately completing his MFA in Interdisciplinary Masters of Art, Media and Design (IAMD) at OCAD University, his Master’s Thesis consisted entirely of sculpture.
What inspires the bulk of Haskell’s pieces revolves around his home, heritage, and family, “the connecting thread in everything” he does.
Haskell’s works “focus within the framework of navigation [his] own selfhood as a queer individual within the Caribbean while being keenly aware of the histories that [he] represents… fusing the costumes and characters of Trinidadian Carnival in order to manifest tensions of power, gender, and violence” as a means to “give a different perspective on the diversity within the Caribbean” while “bringing Caribbean voices together.”
The many characters that Haskell highlights in his work are “drawn from the folklore of traditional Trinidadian mass, or carnival, and local folklore” and come from various different parts and interactions within Trinidadian culture.
“A lot of them are very loaded, loaded characters… I try to, in my own way, tap into that – to add to the growing conversation about politics within the Caribbean, histories in the Caribbean. And how we can preserve them, and reflect on them, in a contemporary way.”
“A big goal in my artwork is not to centre my work as any one perspective of the Caribbean, but to be a part of a larger conversation about what it means to be a Caribbean person outside of western representations, which tend to be very-very narrow.”
“Using the folklore characters that I have been using to combat these issues comes from the seed that is within them. A lot of the time, if not all of the time, these characters come from a place of satire; of political commentary; working against a certain structure critiquing a certain structure… It’s because of this seed of satire that’s within all of them that it makes perfect sense to use them within political commentary”
“It’s important to call out these, you know, very systemic issues: systemic racism, systemic sexism. A lot of the times colonialism is at the root of these systems… an ever-present thread historically. It’s something to be teased out and exposed.”
One sculptural piece can take Haskell between a week to a year to fully complete, from start to finish, and his process differs based on each individual piece. While some ideas come to him in a dream and he might sketch out something that’s not “fully fleshed out”, most of his works don’t begin until his hands are building a relationship with the clay he’s working with, changing and morphing until it “becomes what it eventually will become”. It is here, in the early stages laying the groundwork, where he feels most in his element.
“I love clay up until it’s fired; because it can go through so many more changes… Everything is loaded with so much potential. You have yet to make any major decisions… As it comes out in the end, that’s another brilliant moment but, you know, the early stages are so pregnant with potential”.
“The more you work in ceramics, the more you get dulled. Any nerve of anxiety gets smashed down with repetitive failures… you learn to let that go.”
When probed about any obstacles he has faced being a Trinidadian artist of European ancestry, he was hesitant on giving a specific answer and questioned the veracity of such a question.
“As a white Trinidadian presenting my work in Canada, the obstacles that I’ve faced in the past tend to be around where institutions would place me. Not white enough to be considered Trinidadian within Canadian standards or understanding, but too Trinidadian, or not white enough, to be considered white fully by Canadians”
“Being within this in-between space of not being white enough, being too white, gets reflected in my work in that it sorts of… it’s a constant thread that runs through. A lot of the characters that are utilized come from this Creolized space; a meeting of European ancestry and those outside of it within Caribbean history. All of these characters that I use come from these moments of contact. Very often they’re violent moments of contact historically. But it’s how a lot of these characters were formed initially.
“This liminal space is a fertile place, a place of questioning, a place of critiquing… within that middle ground is a very interesting perspective where you can question things in a very interesting way, you can call things out in a very interesting way. A lot of that is returning to histories and really facing them. Very often it’s a dark history, a lot of Caribbean history is quite dark, and that gets reflected in my work… But at the same time, there’s great frivolity. There’s great celebration. I try to weave those two things together, utilizing characters that come from this creolized space. Come from this place of contact between European ancestry and the ancestry of others within the Caribbean.”
“It’s important for anybody with European descent to look critically at where they came from, what does it mean to have come from where they did, and, most importantly, know when it’s not the time to centre yourself. Know when it’s not your moment to be the voice heard. And I think that’s very important in the context of the Caribbean because we are so diverse and we have such a complicated history; such complicated racialization that it’s very important to know when not to centre yourself. Caribbean strength is within our diversity.”
“To the people who would say that I am appropriating my work, I would say let’s have a conversation about what the Caribbean means to them… In many sectors, we should make more room for people of colour. I think, especially in Canada, there needs to be more room for black voices, queer voices, people of colour, indigenous voices. It’s knowing when, as a white person, to give your privilege up for others.”
Reflecting on the art scene in Trinidad, and how it compares to Toronto, Haskell posits that “there are brilliant people in Trinidad doing amazing work for the queer community, advancing some of the causes, really fighting for rights in a, generally, homophobic society. A lot of the Caribbean still is.”
As a means of income, Haskell has been teaching ceramics to children and believes his personal works have been greatly impacted by the unique perspectives his kids present in their work.
“I like working with kids. Kids are fun. I like working with teens. There’s a frivolity there. Kids are funny, kids make extremely creative pieces… There’s excitement, there’s a kind of creativity that you don’t get with adults or teenagers that have their own expectations… When they get their hands-on clay, the most ridiculous, the most hilarious things start to bubble up to the surface.”
“I love teaching people, and in teaching somebody how to work with clay you deepen your own understanding of it. More importantly, you forge connections with people… I think that’s the main thing in art, is forging connections with people. In doing so, you forge connections with yourself.”
“There’s one moment with different students that always sticks with me and that’s when they first see their piece finished; when it comes out of the kiln; when they hold it. When they have that thing that they’ve worked on for so long, when they finally have it in their hands there’s a little spark, you know. They get this moment of ‘ah-ha, I have created this’, and that’s a very special moment.”
“There’s something extremely human about working with clay. It’s one of the oldest art forms… stretching back tens of thousands of years of us working with it. I think making that connection, especially with kids and youth, is something that can spark creativity and interest. Any activity with youth, with kids, where it working with your hands, building a skill, that sort of meditative quality helps build self-esteem, self-confidence, and self -worth.”
Navigating personal experience within Caribbean folklore to conceptualize political themes within the medium of sculpture, Thomas Haskell creates incredibly beautiful works that capture the true essence of Trinidadian history and culture. You can follow Haskell’s Instagram @tshaskell, and visit his website at https://tshaskell.com/
