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.

draw, design, cut & print

I’m currently working on some large scale lino blocks to print floral patterns as part of my continuing pattern research. At the same time I’m also teaching our BA2 group how to create repeating printed patterns, so it’s always nice when there is some parallels between what I’m up to and what the students are doing.

I have been returning to my sketchbook of floral drawings I made from my trip to the Italian Alps, and exploring them again with new paper cutouts as I think about overprinting and block rotation. I’ve not proofed the plate yet, but here’s some work in progress images from the studio.

Moving pattern – 16mm cameraless animation

I’m always looking for other ways to explore my pattern ideas and have been keen to consider options for film making to explore sequential narratives. Animation processes fit well with the work I’ve been doing with pattern evolution I have been testing across pages of books over the years.

Having been a fan of Len Lye’s paintings on film from the 1930s, including A Colour Box from 1935 commissioned to promote the General Post Office I was pleased to be able to attend a workshop in Norwich to to spend a few hours working on strips of 16mm film to make my own experimental animation. We were shown some examples of other people’s films and could then explore the process ourselves. The workshop was led by Jacob Watkinson and was hosted by The Holloway in Norwich.

We were given strips of clear 16mm film I was able to use pens, paint, rubber stamps and Letraset on, as well as pre-exposed film with archive films that we could scratch away the black with a scalpel beautifully. I know it’s obvious to say, but 16mm is tiny, and I’d forgotten my glasses, so that added to the issue of seeing what I was working on! It’s a tiny space to include anything too complex and I was unsure initially how many times to repeat motifs and at what pace to move motifs across the film, but I just had a go and tried not to be too precious. 

Once we’d all had a chance to work on several pieces Jacob spliced the pieces of film together and we ended the session with a screening of everybody’s efforts – it was great to see individual approaches with the same processes and the outcomes have certainly got me thinking about taking my pattern evolution ideas in this direction again. The image below shows some stills from the film I made – all 20 seconds of it! Len Lye’s films are brilliantly paired with music so maybe I need to think about that too – but I’m not sure today’s Post Office will be knocking on my door anytime soon!

If you want to read more about Len Lye this article from the Tate is a good one.

drawing, looking and seeing

I’ve recently returned from a lovely family holiday, traveling by train from Norfolk to London and via Paris through France to the south and on in to Italy, up into the foothills of the Alps via Turin … and back again. I made lots of small sketchbooks so I could have one close at hand at all times, with a selection of pens and pencils. I’ve always enjoyed drawing from trains, preferably sitting backwards, looking, identifying shapes and details, then hastily capturing what I saw in a few lines.

It’s a great exercise to keep the hand, brain and eyes in check, and although I have previously used this sort of drawing for my design work – including my degree Final Major Project back in 1997 – I only really do it now as a good activity to check in with the view and focus on the places, stations and landscapes I journey between, and as exercise for keeping my drawing practice fit and healthy. A gable-end of a barn, a cluster of trees or mountain horizons can be documented and it’s amazing how these drawings are then able to capture and remind me of the journey years later.

Here are some of the drawing from the trains. I sometimes get a bit more detail down if we sit in the station for a few minutes, and I jot the station name down for interest.

I also managed to do a small amount of drawing while sat in cafes or sheltering from sun while other family members were up to something else. They take a few minutes each, so still pretty quick observations. It’s clear my interest in pattern comes in to how I see the world. Rhythms of windows and balconies, railings, ornamental buildings….

I also made a couple of sketchbooks using tracing paper as I was interested to see how I worked with the transparent pages as the drawings built. I quite like the results and reminds me of how I plan lino blocks and screen prints with the layers of tracing paper.

It was definitely good to spend time drawing and I’m thinking of revisiting some in the studio, no pressure, just a few ideas. I hope you like them, let me know if / how you make drawings from trains!

Research chapter published: pattern evolution

In the first term of arriving at Norwich University of the Arts I was welcomed as a member of the Pattern and Chaos research group. Colleagues from across the university would meet and discuss individual research practices and shared ambitions relating to the themes of the group. During one of those early meetings the idea of a Reader, a book featuring many contributions on the themes related to the research group, was being discussed. I enjoyed being involved in setting out early ambitions and five years on the book, edited by Sarah Horton and Victoria Mitchell, is a reality, having been published by Intellect Books in late 2023. Congratulations to Sarah & Victoria!

I’m delighted to be a contributor alongside many other researchers and practitioners, some I have the pleasure to know, others I shall get to know through their text and images in the book.

My contribution to the project is chapter ten. In conversation with both Sarah and Victoria several years ago I shared my ideas of pattern evolution, of taking motifs from one to another, an ogee to a diamond for example, through the process of drawing, transforming them from one to another across the sheet of paper. I gave them a quick sketch as part of my proposal and they patiently waited for more as I worked on the larger body of drawings. The link between themes and variations in music was apparent and I played with this idea as I made the drawings, layering tone and form, as a composer would do in building the greater composition.

The chapter explores the practical research process of drawing and evolving the motifs across formal grids structures and across layers of tracing paper. Although the visual language of these drawings are significantly different to my current research the ideas initiated here were the seeds of my current investigation – I’ll share that progress soon!

A huge thank you to Sarah and Victoria for the ongoing support they provide, both to me and my practice. Between the two of them they always ask the pertinent questions and offer sound advice and encouragement.

drawing breath

Drawing has always been an important element of my design practice. It gives me time to refocus, to get away from everything else, to appreciate the beauty in things and keeps my eyes and hand working together in my lifelong investigation of how I look and how I record what I see.

The flowers drawn here were some of the last from the summer borders, consisting of dahlias, sunflowers, hollyhocks and verbena, captured quickly in pen, while I sat by the window, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the shadows that the flowers created while I drew.

drawn ideas of pattern

My ongoing research practice of drawing and design regularly explores pattern structures within the family of geometrics. I enjoy testing motifs and rhythms that belong to traditional compositions, and deconstruct the scaffolding to look for new iterations.

In this recent work I am looking to the concept of themes and variations in music to drive the visual investigation. Repeat doesn’t feature, but it’s certainly a consideration for the future.

layers of tracing paper with graphite drawing

With a short break between academic years, and the book in production I hope to find some time to take this project forward over the coming few weeks.

nature: holiday inspiration for the sketchbook

This holiday time has provided an opportunity to go to new places, see new things and return to the sketchbook just for fun. A week at Ilkley Moor enabled lots of time for walking and seeking out inspiration from the natural world, with distinct differences to the landscape I’m used to day to day. Up hill and down dale saw me amongst mosses and lichens, pebbles and boulders, grouse, larch trees, heathers and bogs … and even a fragment of pottery.

Rucksack pockets were filled with samples of treasure ready to investigate later. The process of drawing enables me to get to know an object, and by making several studies of each item I enjoy developing a stylised representation. I hope never to tire of the getting-to-know-you drawing process I have practised for thirty years.

By looking closely and seeing through drawing I can work out the essential elements of surface, form and texture to record, but also I love to play with the appearance of elevation and structure of three dimensional objects, such as the pebbles, to explore their new form as they appear on the page, as flat motifs.

The textures and colours of the items I gathered provide macro evidence of the vast landscape I walked through and connected with. As this was springtime there were pockets of fresh green bursting through winter foliage, demonstrating the natural cycle awakes again. The geology of Yorkshire provided variety in coloured greys and texture under hand and foot as we bouldered, scrambled and hiked, notable in contrast to the soft wet bogs and spongy moss beds amongst the heather.

Without going all John Ruskin about it, the natural world really is amazing, and full of inspiration for anyone inclined to notice. Anyway, back to the rather flatter fields of Norfolk …

pattern processing

I’m often juggling lots of tasks in my head, but when my mind is busy I can find focus and space to think within and around the process of drawing. The time occupied by my hand drawing gives my head some freedom to work things through. Distraction, mindfulness, process-led, thinking time…

Drawing also creates time to explore rhythms that are playing out more formally in other sketchbooks for other projects. I find it interesting that certain motifs appear in the margins of my notebooks time and time again, made while my mind is occupied. Often those shapes are geometric, but sometimes the circle dominates, at other times, squares. Regularly they link to designs I’m working on and resolving somewhere else, subconsciously seeking solutions.

I enjoy the simplicity of paper and pencil in a world where so much of my time is spent in front of a screen. The physical process of drawing; the feel of the friction between graphite and paper, the sounds created by the rhythmic gestures, are vital to the experience. Satisfaction comes from a page of evolving rhythm and more pattern potential. We know there is seduction in the multiple; the repetition of tins on a supermarket shelf, for example.

drawing on the landscape

I’m sure I’ve written about it before, but I’m often intrigued how an idea can rattle about in my head for years, exist as drawings or collages, but not quite feel right… then manifest in a way that makes those years of waiting make sense. I’ve recently created a sequence of three drawings that appear to have done just that.

Drawing is a key creative process for me. I don’t always find as much time as I’d like but I draw to capture the beauty of a flower, or the shape of a field, and often have no planned use for the image; the drawing exists for itself. Over the years I can see drawings are linked by a longer-term inquiry, and these single elements collectively define the aesthetic of my practice.

I’ve been working on some new landscape-inspired drawings, bringing together some colour mixing and the monochrome marks, rhythms and textures relating to the Norfolk landscape. I began with a journey through the drawers of my plan chest to pull together a dictionary of visual language to guide me, and following a cycle ride in the landscape I took pencil in hand, and began to draw. Painting features very little in my practice, really only for colour-mixing but this time it felt right to capture the colour in gouache and apply directly with brushes on to the paper, layered up with the graphite of the drawing.

These drawings are part of the ongoing journey, but I do think it’s important to stop and notice when something feels right, like a good fitting piece of jigsaw in the puzzle.