WITH JESSE SCHLESINGER
BEHIND THE SCENES WITH JESSE SCHLESINGER
Jesse Schlesinger is a San Francisco-based multidisciplinary artist whose work seamlessly integrates sculpture, site-specific installations, drawing, and photography. Born in Kentucky in 1979, Schlesinger’s early exposure to craftsmanship came from his father, a skilled carpenter, instilling in him a profound respect for materials and traditional techniques. His artistic journey led him to the California College of the Arts, where he earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Painting and Drawing in 2008.
Schlesinger’s creations are deeply rooted in a sense of place, often utilizing locally sourced, salvaged materials such as redwood and stone to craft pieces that resonate with the natural environment. His commitment to sustainability and authenticity is evident in his labor-intensive processes, reflecting a philosophy that values the inherent narratives within materials. Beyond his studio practice, Schlesinger has engaged in significant public art commissions, including “Pacific Transit” on Judah Street near Ocean Beach and contributions to the Natoma Art Corridor in San Francisco, showcasing his dedication to enhancing communal spaces through art.
Read on to learn more about Jesse and his work.
Jesse Schlesinger in his studio
CL: In what way has your experience working on a small organic farm in your 20s influenced your work today? How did it transform your thinking?
JS: It informs what I do now in so many ways. A big part of it is the "buy fresh, buy local" ethos--farms, restaurants, all of that. I think you and I have already talked about that a lot, but most of my materials are local, from nearby, and reflect this landscape and terrain.
That's probably one of the biggest aspects. I work with redwood and cypress, all salvaged from the area, so they feel representative. When I work with redwood, I sometimes say it feels autobiographical. I wasn't born here, but this is definitely home. Using materials endemic to this area feels like an important and relevant part of what I do. When you think about the values of farming, that's obviously a parallel.
Another unexpected part is that many of my customers at the farm turned out to be involved in the arts--creators, galleries, artists. I still have relationships with some of them 20+ years later. I knew them from selling produce and now I work with them in different capacities. That's also a big part of how farming influenced me--it's a community that carried over.
For years I delivered produce to Quince, and now I'm doing design work for them. It's a full-circle moment. We've known each other since the beginning, and now my artwork is in the restaurant, and I'll be doing more design work that will be part of the space.
Concrete and wood maquettes
CL: A lot of your practice is centered around materiality. Where do you generally begin - does the idea come first, and then you choose the material, or does the material lead to the form?
JS: It's a bit of both. Sometimes I find something special--like a stone or a ceramic piece--that sits in the studio until I realize how to use it. Other times, I find a slab of wood and design the table around it. Sometimes it's an idea first, and I go searching for the right material. I have a bunch of resources to draw on for that. Like, if I need a 10-foot slab table, I know where to go.
CL: And what about more for the sculptural work? Where there's more flexibility?
JS: There, I'm more often responding to the material without a clear idea at first. And sometimes I find a piece that's just too good--I know I need to do something with it, even if it takes a while to figure out what.
Ephemera on a studio shelf
CL: You mentioned you've been exploring ceramics more. What drew you to that medium, and what boundaries are you trying to push with it?
JS: I started ceramics at Cabrillo College years ago. Maybe a bit in high school, too. But I didn't do much with it until later. CCA had an incredible ceramics program, but I didn't engage with it then. Then, here in the studio, we have a kiln. Seeing my studio mates work with clay made me want to try.
But the real reason was that a public art project I was working on at Ocean Beach changed locations. In some instances, it would be obscured by parked cars. I'd chosen materials like concrete, bronze, and stone because they hold up well in that marine environment. But they're not very bright or colorful. So I began thinking about what materials could add vibrancy and still age well - something natural. That led me to glass and ceramic glaze. Ceramics can be bright and colorful, and we had the kiln, so it was a perfect opportunity.
It also coincided with a friend asking if I could design something for her home that was pest-resistant. So I proposed a ceramic piece, and she was totally supportive, which allowed me to really dive into that material. And I've been here in the area for so long that a buddy of mine introduced me to John Toki, an artist in Richmond. Seeing how he worked with clay at a large scale was kind of an epiphany. A lot of things lined up all at once.
The last point I'd make is that with woodworking, I usually have an idea and I can execute it pretty close to how I envisioned it. With ceramics, you have to relinquish control. There's a lot of chance and unpredictability, and I think that's a really healthy thing for me--spiritually, psychologically, and creatively. It's a beautiful part of the material. It teaches non-attachment.
Furniture maquettes in the studio
CL: Yeah, there's a chemical process you can't always predict. I've always been in awe of sculptors. It often involves subtraction, which means if you make a mistake, you can't always fix it. With painting, you can often correct it, but with sculpture, the material's gone. It's also about relinquishing control--just going with it.
JS: Totally. That's one of the most interesting aspects I've incorporated into my practice.
CL: Do you see yourself exploring glass more in the future?
JS: Yeah. I learned to blow glass at CCA and became fairly proficient. Now, here in the studio, I use the kiln to fuse and slump glass--that's how I make the bowls for Joy.
I also have a project proposal that includes architectural cast glass. It's very expensive, but I'm eager to explore it more. I mean thick, cast blocks of glass. Have you seen Hiroshi Sugimoto's work in Naoshima? He has solid glass steps that look like giant pieces of ice.
CL: Yes, I've been there. I know exactly what you're talking about.
JS: That's the kind of approach I'm interested in--big blocks of cast glass, not blown or slumped.
Ceramic and wood stools in a range of finishes
CL: I had read that you had a Waldorf education growing up, which makes so much sense to me. Your hands-on approach, your work that spans so many mediums - it all fits with what I imagine a Waldorf education to entail. Was there a pivotal Waldorf experience that helped shape who you are?
JS: Good question. I think it was a combination. I grew up in a really incredible family, and the Waldorf education emphasized integrating art into learning. That had a huge influence. It also fostered independence. That sense of "I can do and make anything" has proved invaluable. It gave me confidence, and that carried over to job sites, studio work, everything. In Waldorf, we learned to dance, sing, knit, sew, carve stone, work with clay - just try everything. That openness carried into my experience at CCA, too. There's not a single story that stands out, just the overall approach to education. That "I can do that" mindset.
And that comes from both Waldorf and my family. They fed into each other. Waldorf is the kind of education where families have to be involved. It asks a lot, but if parents can be engaged, it makes a big difference.
Maquettes in Schlesinger’s signature blue