About
I’m Brett Sauve, a sculptor and teacher based in Detroit, Michigan. Clay is my main language, but I’m no stranger to paint, metal, wood, or a pencil - and my most recent obsession - crayons! Most of my pieces start as messy little sketches—quick marks on paper that eventually grow into full 3D forms. I love translating those pencil strokes into clay, like giving a drawing a pulse.
My work is basically my way of making sense of being human. Every emotion, every shift, every experience that leaves a mark on us—those become the shapes and faces I build. I use the male face a lot, partly to step out of the work myself and partly to let the story land on a figure that isn’t me. It’s like putting the emotional aftermath onto a different vessel so I can explore it more honestly.
Lately, I’ve been deep in raku firing. There’s something addictive about surrendering control and letting fire, smoke, and chance finish the piece with me. Raku is quick, unpredictable, and chaotic in the best way—it pushes me to experiment, let go, and let the elements have their say.
I went to undergrad at Central Michigan University, where I studied art—watercolor at first. But the moment I stepped into my first ceramics class, everything clicked. Clay just made sense to me.
I started spending every day in the studio, picked up a couple awards along the way, and—more importantly—found a way to get the big feelings out of my body and into something real. Ceramics asks you to get your hands dirty, and I’ve found that the physical act of working with muddy hands mirrors the emotional work too—showing up, sitting with the mess, and shaping something honest out of it.
I've had the opportunity to teach hand building and raku workshops at multiple studios over the years and I am so grateful to be able to continue sharing my craft in that way. Teaching feels like an extension of my own practice—another way of staying curious and connected.
Making art has always been how I process what’s going on inside me. Sharing that work with other people has been the most grounding part, because they can feel it too. That connection is what keeps me coming back to the studio.
More recently, alongside teaching and hand building, I’ve been obsessing over crayons and cardboard as my medium. It started on vacation with my nephews, coloring with those cheap restaurant crayons while we waited for our food. Something cracked open in me in that moment—a feeling I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.
I love working with crayons because they carry a sense of childlike innocence and joy, a reminder of why I started making art in the first place. Cardboard shows up a lot in my work for a similar reason. I want art to feel accessible. You don’t need expensive canvases, perfect tools, or formal training to create something meaningful.
As you look through my work, you’ll notice that many of the figures I draw or build carry intense emotion in their faces. That contrast matters to me—using playful, familiar materials to hold heavier feelings. I think there’s a childlike sense of wonder inside all of us, no matter what we’re carrying. My goal with this work is to acknowledge and sit with the pain, while still honoring the joy, curiosity, and wonder that make us human—and I invite you to do the same.
Thank you for being here. I hope you find a part of yourself in my art.
