Blind Community Center of San Diego

Ahmet Ustunel on his life and his art

I was born and grew up in Istanbul, Turkey, and have been totally blind since the age of three. My fascination with creating forms out of different materials started at a very early age. When I was three or four, I began to pull the caulk from the windows of our house in Istanbul, so that I could make animal figures. Eventually, someone noticed the missing caulk and I became the only suspect. The mystery was solved when my parents found my artwork, which they thought was cute. To prevent my stealing more caulk, they bought me a fresh ball of caulk from a window repair shop nearby.

When I was six years old and instead of starting school like most Turkish children, I spent two long years on the waiting list for Istanbul's only school for the blind. At eight years old I was very excited to go to school. Discrimination and lack of support meant that mainstreaming blind children was just a dream for Turkish families at that time. I was glad the decision was made to send me to the school for the blind. I was well-educated but, at the same time, isolated from my sighted peers.

Ceramics class was soon my favorite class at the school for the blind. My work won praise and my teacher displayed it on shelves. This was the first time I felt that I could create art to please others, not just for myself. Unfortunately, the school didn’t have a kiln, so none of this work survived more than a few years.

When I was old enough to decide where to go to middle school, I chose to attend a mainstream middle school. The challenges of learning in a mainstream environment in Turkey continued through my university years. In public school, I often felt that some of my teachers had low expectations of me. I was required to do only those things I could do without any accommodations. For example, in art class, the teacher only taught drawing and painting. No other forms of artistic expression were allowed. I was not expected to participate; when my friends were drawing and painting, the only thing I was supposed to do was to listen to the other students while they worked on their projects.

Fortunately, my high school art teacher was more open-minded; when I explained that I was blind, he allowed me to make clay figurines instead of drawings or paintings. He was very supportive of my efforts, and in the last class he told me, “You have talent. You should be an artist.” These words encouraged and motivated me. However, a blind person going to a fine art school was not an option. I did not pursue a degree in art. I went to Bosporus University, where I studied psychology and joined a fine arts club. I produced pieces that were exhibited at the annual art festival four years in a row. When I moved to the U.S., I earned a master’s degree in special education. Today, I take ceramic classes at the UCSD Craft Center.

I have been asked how I have become so independent. To me, being independent of others changed my life. Barriers we encounter are not the result of blindness; they are just products of prejudice and discrimination. Even worse, sometimes they are our own mind's products. It is not true that blind people are less competent than others, but lack of support can cause lack of self-confidence. I create my pieces independently at the studio. But it doesn’t mean that I am not open to share ideas, to learn from others and collaborate with other artists. Support from other artists at the studio makes me even more independent and self-confident.

I see and create my work with my hands and my hands are the best tool I’ve ever had. When making art, my main focus is emphasizing the importance of sense of touch. In order to achieve this, I use different texturing techniques, along with interesting forms. I try not to use commercial ceramic tools. I like touching the clay as much as possible and I don’t really like the interference of a wooden stick or a metal tool between my fingers and the clay. However, there are times my fingers cannot create the texture I want on the clay; that’s when nature and recycled materials come to my help. I constantly collect objects to texture my pieces.

Since I have been totally blind since the age of three, I have a limited memory of colors. To me, texture is what color means to a sighted artist. When I pick up my pieces from the kiln, the first thing I feel is their texture. Are there any unexpected results on the surface? Any cracks? Did the glaze run? I can differentiate most of the glazes by feel. So I first evaluate my piece through touch and then try to visualize it. At the end, if everything combined creates an image of a good piece in my mind. I consider it a good piece.

My work includes a variety of objects. Some are functional, such as mugs, bowls and teapots. Some are just decorative, such as masks, small sculptures and so on. The first time my pieces were chosen for an exhibit was in 2002 in Istanbul. Since then, I have participated in exhibits in Turkey, Poland, and the U.S.

As an artist, my goal is to create more and better pieces all the time and my dream is to work with blind kids as an art teacher. In my opinion, many blind students don’t receive appropriate art education in public schools, resulting in students who will never have a chance to discover their artistic talents. I’d like to change that by providing art lessons to blind children.

I discovered the Blind Community Center through the Internet just after I moved to San Diego. As soon as I learned about the art program I visited the BCC. I was so happy to find a place where I can make ceramics and socialize with other blind people. More importantly, I was happy to find a place where instructors and volunteers don’t think that you cannot do things independently because you are blind. When working at the BCC’s art class I am able to do my work independently, load and unload the kiln, use the potter’s wheel and so on. I always feel that if I am able to do something, I’ll be supported. The only thing I want from staff and volunteers of the BCC is that they don't ever change their positive attitude towards blindness.