pottery collaboration: form and mark

A little over a year ago I started to collaborate with my mum on a very special creative project. My mother has been a potter all of my life and family meals at home would mean eating from hand-thrown stoneware bowls, plates and cups made by her. During the 1970s and early ’80s she exhibited her goods at craft fairs in and around Wymondham, Norfolk and we would hang around watching as mum demonstrated her craft alongside her creative friends. We were lucky enough to have personalised birthday gifts made by mum during our childhood, and when I left home I was given a homemade teapot, cups and bowls that I still have, three decades later! My sister and I used to play at the potter’s wheel and hand build the odd ornament. I vividly remember the smell of burning clay dust on the bar heater and the feeling of dry clay on my hands.

Last winter, as a way to spend time together at a sad time of family loss, I suggested we try collaborating, sharing our skills to see what we could come up with. I made a project sketchbook to outline a few thoughts and approaches to form and visual language, and handed it over for mum to think about what chimed with her. Although I’m a surface pattern designer, I’ve no experience of hand painting on ceramics beyond art school. Mum has switched to hand building her vessels in recent years so this was how we started. After a morning in my studio pressing tools into damp clay, drawing forms and testing colours, the project was underway.

Mum tested a few ways to construct the vessels and I responded to the forms with drawn and painted marks inspired by our mutual appreciation for landscape. I had to learn how to load the brush and use the colour on the clay. I monoprinted texture and marks by painting newspaper with colour then drawing on the back of it on the damp clay. I drew with the ceramics pencil and scratched through shapes of colour with different tools. I’d hold my breath in anticipation as I planned a long line of colour, top to bottom, over the neck and shoulders of the form. We also added buttons as visual and textural interest. We had some gentle discussions about my preference for marks mum was less keen on, and we egged each other on each time we returned to the pottery. I’d receive a message, “Kate darling, I’ve made some more for you!” and soon the weekend arrived and we were nattering away, having our creative fun together again.

We have learned lots about what we have both wanted with the shapes and surface pattern of the pots, and I’ve tried my best to understand slips, engobes and underglazes. Our techniques have been refined, and standards raised during the year. I’ve definitely got better at drawing on three-dimensional forms – I’m even more in awe of Clarice Cliff! There are three series so far, exploring different forms, colourways and surface decoration, with approximately ten flasks in each.

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to work with mum on this project, it genuinely feels an absolute privilege to be able to work in this way. This collaboration has been one of united adventure, sharing each other’s creative decision making and discipline expertise to guide us, learning to make more than we could individually, sitting beside each other in a conversation between clay form and mark making.

I also think we may not be done yet … we shall see! We are looking at options to exhibit them and would very much like to share them with others.

Creative downtime in Devon

The summer is over and I reflect on one special week away last month that gave me lots of time to think and be creative.

My family and I were invited to participate in a creative field school at Ashridge in Devon, and despite not knowing much about what was in store, we took the very long and scenic route to Devon, down some scary narrow and steep lanes, the car full to the brim, and arrived many hours later, at the most beautiful hidden-away gem of a farm where we settled in for what became a week to remember (Devon via Stonehenge is a long way from Norfolk).

Over the first few hours we met the other intrepid creatives joining us for the time. We were all tasked with delivering one workshop during the week that everyone else, no matter what age, could attend. There were to be some communal meals, talks and evening events including a cabaret – less said about our contribution the better! There was even a printed book we all received ahead of the holiday with a schedule and other useful information in it but once in Ashridge the blackboard outside the studio became our go-to schedule, with times slipping as we relaxed in to the pace of the place. The one clear day from workshops saw us all explore in different directions, and rather unscheduled but special all the same was how we all chose to reconnect with the group when we returned home, back to the studio that evening to share our findings and keep creating.

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We learned different skills: from making natural rope using brambles and nettles, we made constructions to share with the group, we made zoopraxinoscopes (animations), boodie-ware picassiettes (mosaic plates), monoprints, ceramic pictographs with rubber stamps, printed aquariums, masks and sashes …

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My workshop was called Patterns of Ashridge and I started off by discussing how to draw and stylise natural forms to create patterns, inspired by illustrator Gwen White’s book, A World of Pattern, (left-hand image below) first published in 1957. Everyone committed to the exercise of drawing trees to illustrate a point about stylising through drawing, and then set about gathering things to study for their individual pattern ideas. There were some really successful outcomes completed as folded books, and lots of interesting conversations about what else could be done next.

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What felt so special was the shared time; the learning through the workshops and the time available for informal social gatherings. Coffee time at 11am, or afternoon tea was spent clutching the sewing project or nettle cordage as we embraced the new craft skills and helped each other remember what our workshop leader had told us. Having only met a few of the other people before this week, we all took the time to share the experience. We found common grounds; the shared networks including academics in common.

We all appreciated the lack of internet connection and took pleasure in the secluded and peaceful environment of Ashridge. We swam in the sea, explored in the river, picked blackberries and generally appreciated the natural world around us, including newts and owls – it all felt many worlds away from the everyday routines we find ourselves launching back in to as the Autumn comes.

We send a huge thanks to Des and family for such a wonderful and generous experience!

I shall be talking about Gwen White and her books at the Women in Print symposium at the House of Illustration on the 16th September.

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The church kneeler above was from Modbury Church, Devon – there’ll be another post about those in due course!

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