Julie Byrne has an animated energy, a zany and delightful aura that makes it intriguing to watch her in action. She is amusing, scattered and fun.

It makes sense that Byrne chose the lifelong career of a figurative ceramic sculpture artist who creates quirky, narrative-based characters. She uses animal imagery in her work – birds, rats, dogs, horses – but most of her pieces entail doll-like human figures, with a focus on mystifying expressions or gestures.

A bit surprising is that her work involves unexpected deep themes.

“I’m motivated by other people’s stories and personal narratives, and really by what’s going on in the news, whether it’s the war or torture or something just completely tragic that is going on. If you’re not thinking about all of this, then you’re not awake,” Byrne says. “Much of my work, I think, is about coping with an unraveling sense of dread.”

It’s a gloomy thought process for an artist who embraces a seemingly light and whimsical repertoire. But Byrne works in mysterious ways. She relies on people’s vulnerabilities, on their sadness and heartbreak, to lighten her imagination.

It wasn’t always that way. While studying art (both as an undergraduate and graduate student) at Ohio State in 1980s, Byrne’s grandmother was murdered, and her artistic and personal perspective changed dramatically.

“When I lost her, I lost the way I thought of her. She wasn’t my grandmother whom I was close to anymore; she was a victim. I didn’t want that,” Byrne says. “So, to sort of get her back, I allowed myself to be more voyeuristic and pay more attention to others and their stories. My recovery was to listen to those stories, whether they were sad or happy, and make them into a work of art.”

Byrne’s pieces are far from depressing, though they incorporate a hint of darkness. She avoids using much color—she doesn’t believe color adds to the story she’s trying to tell. “I don’t see the story in color. I see it in clay,” she says.

Clay has been her medium of choice since grad school. “Clay is like this living thing that I can manipulate. I’m in the driver’s seat,” she says.

She has such a preference for clay, in fact, that she and business partner Nancy Kanter opened Clay Café in Grandview, about 12 years ago. The premise of the paint-your-own pottery studio is to simply introduce everyone to the concept of creating clay art, from gifts to household items.

Byrne’s own work has earned her quite a bit of recognition: She is a past recipient of the Ohio Arts Council’s Individual Artist Grant and has earned accolades from Ohio Designer Craftsmen. The OAC award was monetary, allowing her to rent her own studio space for the first time, a move she considers an important milestone in her career.

She also picked up representation through A Muse Gallery about five years ago, another highlight for her. Byrne claims to be too introspective about her work to expose it to anyone on her own.

Byrne and her family – a husband and two children – live on 5 acres of land in Groveport, where she grows organic vegetables and raises chickens, dogs, and bees (to make honey). She refers to her life as a “simple” existence.

“It’s a very selfish, very psychologically functional profession. It is wonderful and luxurious and I can’t see myself not doing this, not being close to the drama involved in this,” Byrne says. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t be an artist. I have a reason to get out of bed in the morning.”

For more information on Byrne’s work, visit www.amusegallery.com.  

A Muse Gallery, 996 W. Third Ave., Grandview, is celebrating its 10th anniversary with a group show through July and August titled Director’s Choice – the Best of A Muse Gallery. Visit www.amusegallery.com for more information.

Alicia Kelso is editor of CityScene.