by Samora ‘Oibel1.’ Bazarrabusa
Some projects are planned long in advance.
Others emerge naturally through conversations, relationships, and a shared curiosity to create something together.
The Moon Jar project was one of those.
I first worked with Alex Jakob during one of his Freundeskreis restaurant pop-ups at the Franklin Tower in 2023, where I was invited to create live paintings. Since then, we’ve stayed in touch and continued following each other’s creative journeys.
When Alex told me he had started making Moon Jars and asked whether I would be interested in painting on them, I was immediately in.
Over the years, I’ve painted on many different surfaces, including ceramic objects I’ve picked up from furniture and interior design stores. I’ve always enjoyed seeing how my linework behaves on three-dimensional forms.
What made this opportunity different was the chance to work directly with a ceramic artist and develop a coherent body of work together.
These weren’t mass-produced objects. They were handmade vessels, each carrying its own character before I even touched it. Every Moon Jar was unique, and no two were exactly alike.
That alone made the project exciting.
The Moon Jar itself has its roots in Korean pottery traditions. While the form appears simple at first glance, creating these large, spherical vessels is anything but simple. They are shaped by hand, and because of their size and form, they often carry small irregularities and imperfections that make each piece unique.
That’s something I appreciate.
I have never been particularly interested in perfection.
What also fascinated me was the process behind the ceramics themselves.
Unlike a painting on canvas, the work doesn’t end once the lines are in place.
The vessels are fired multiple times at temperatures exceeding a thousand degrees. Then comes the glazing process, which introduces another layer of unpredictability. You can guide it, but you never fully know how the final surface will look until the kiln is opened.
That element of uncertainty immediately resonated with me.
It reminded me of something I enjoy in my own work: leaving room for the unexpected.
In fact, we experienced that uncertainty right from the beginning.
The very first vase we worked on burst in the kiln.
Neither of us expected it.
Suddenly, the project became a lesson in experimentation.
I learned more about how the glazing behaved. Alex learned more about how the vessels reacted during the firing process. We adjusted, adapted, and continued.
To me, that’s one of the most rewarding parts of creative collaborations.
Different disciplines come together.
Different experiences meet.
And everyone learns something along the way.
The project eventually grew into a series of six Moon Jars, including one half-moon form that differs from the others. Alongside the vessels, I also created two paintings that accompany and commemorate the collaboration.
One thing I only fully realized after seeing the finished pieces was how differently the linework behaved on the curved surfaces.
On canvas, the borders are clear. A painting begins and ends within a defined space.
The Moon Jars felt different.
As the lines wrapped around the spherical forms, they seemed to dissolve the visual borders of the vessels themselves. The eye no longer focused on where the object started and ended. Instead, the linework appeared to flow around the form and blend into its surroundings.
It was something I hadn’t anticipated, and it became one of my favourite discoveries within the project.
What started as a conversation between Alex and me eventually grew into a group exhibition featuring works by Veli Silver, Ata Bozacı, Harun Dogan, Alejandra Abad, and myself.
The project found its home at Teo Jakob in Zurich, a name that has shaped Swiss design culture for decades and provided a fitting setting for a collaboration that sits somewhere between art, craft, design, and experimentation.
Looking back, what I appreciate most is not any single vase or painting.
It’s the process itself.
The conversations.
The collaboration.
The willingness to try something new.
The surprises along the way.
And the opportunity to create something together that none of us would have created alone.