Fine porcelain bottles, dishes, cups and other vessels made in my backyard studio. Head to the Shop Online page to see what is currently for sale.
My ceramic work includes bottles that may be used as vases or to store oils or other liquids; small dishes for salt, olives or condiments; cups and other forms. I work mainly in porcelain slip, or liquid clay, formed in hand-made moulds. I love the contrast of the fine porcelain and the irregular shapes and textural imperfections of the hand-made.
In some pieces, I emphasise the liquid nature of the clay by mixing tinted slips together to create splashes and swirls of colour. I have only limited control over the final outcome, and I enjoy this unknowable aspect of the making process. Some pieces appear to have been painted from the inside out.
Pieces in progress:
Making with mud and my mum
My mother was a potter. It was her greatest passion, although she also worked in many other materials. I grew up with clay and the processes that led from a damp lump of earth to a functional or fantastical form. Each stage is marked by the excitement of firing and the nervous anticipation of its outcome. I remember from my childhood a late-night salt firing like some people would remember cracker night or a solstice bonfire. The whooshing noise and flames of the burners set into a brick kiln that mum had built in the back yard. …wrapping rock salt in newspaper and inserting the little packets through a bung hole where they vaporised in a glow of orange. The next morning we removed bricks to reveal the wonderful blushes of colour and orange-peel texture on her handiwork.
I inherited some of mum’s equipment including her gas kiln which, after so many years, is now functioning again, and it goes like a rocket! I am once again attending to late night firings, monitoring the temperature and listening out for disasters like exploding pots or falling shelves. So far, so good!
My pots are not like my mother’s. I have a different aesthetic and a smaller scale of production. But working with clay and slip is very much about my childhood with her, and makes me feel her presence even though she’s been gone for more than 16 years now. I miss her in my making, but also revel in sharing the contentment of handling the cool, pliable earth; of moulding and making with mud.