One Potters Point of View – coming from the USA

America has, for many years, had a lively appreciation for craft shows. For many American ceramists this has been the main source of income and they might do six shows in a year in different towns/areas. Such shows have not been for high-end artists working in one-offs or small series with white cube galleries but makers of what we call ‘domestic wares’ – tableware, cookware and decorative pieces for the home or gift markets. While when one goes to the USA it can be hard to find a gallery that sells contemporary ceramics, maybe that is because these craft fairs could be found all over and filled those gaps for the majority. Now it seems that is also changing and here are extracts from one younger ceramist’s thoughts that may have relevance here…..

In my short time participating in craft shows as a studio artist the starkness of the current state of the market and the uncertain future of the craft world has prompted me to ask myself over and over: “How will I be able to make a living doing this now and into the future?” My doubt was not something that I had manifested on my own, there was plenty of that, but there were also other signs that things were not what I thought they would be.

 

It never took long for a veteran crafter to talk about “how things used to be.” Usually referencing the 1980’s and 90’s, they would paint a picture of incredibly crowded venues with knowledgeable buyers who had the money to support a large number of artists. Things were great, and then it seemed like they weren’t. The Internet bubble burst in the early aughts, The American Craft Council shuttered several of its shows, and the high number of craft shows diluted the importance of the older established shows as well as what the word “craft” meant. The crowds have thinned considerably and there is a lot of down time during shows. But what caught me off guard was the lack of accountability and flexibility that the larger, higher end craft shows were willing to put forward. I could simply be projecting here. Don’t get me wrong, there are always those who make great work and are able to sell that work to the kind of people we would all like to have as collectors. The problem here, keeping in mind that building an audience takes time and effort, is that for a young crafter showing a profit after computing the costs of doing a show is difficult. The model of the large fine craft show has become stale and is at huge risk of simply not existing in the near future.  To make an analogy, craft shows are prepared for an outdated style of business, like the military is situated for a two-theater war with the Soviet Union. What was built up during the 60’s and 70’s, capitalized upon in the 1980’s and then seemingly maximized by 2000 has floundered under its lack of attracting a younger audience. For those who began their careers in the 1970’s and 80’s, their audience came up with them, slowly buying work year after year on a consistent basis, as both artists and their audience made money together. With that generation getting older, retiring, and no longer having any room to collect more objects we are left to try and make sense of a model that has run its course. Potential buyers of a younger generation don’t want to go to a convention center to make their purchases. Their attention is elsewhere and moves at a pace faster than we have been able to keep up with.

The 2008 economic crisis has brought new issues of sustainability, evolution and flexibility into the market and the lives of makers who rely on that market to survive. The crisis has also helped to reveal individual artists’ ability to evolve with technology and use it to broaden the reach of their work.

Successful artists now use tools like the Internet and digital media, but their approaches vary significantly.  There are also some ideas on business models that could be undertaken now to help build a new audience for ceramics and fine craft in general.  While “the future” is a large, ambiguous, and worrisome notion that many of us share I see the solution as taking control of one’s career and not be beholden to a single way of making a living or by what has already been established. The handmade object, as we know, can easily become an important part of its owner’s life. Underestimating that importance in the long-term will render our field helpless in the face of more change.

I want to return to the beginning – the part about how older craft artists who I’ve come into contact with would wax nostalgically about the way that things used to be. Life is mostly showing up and hoping for the best, but an approach as artists engaged in business should be transformed into something more resilient, more involved, more political. But I wonder, in the midst of digital technology and the ability to connect with an audience and with other makers, if we can’t start to organize ourselves for a long-term vision of what we think craft should be. We need to take a lesson from Republicans, who, over the past 30 years, have been able to turn the tide of how politics, lawmaking, and debate are viewed and how citizens decide to vote. While I do not agree with the Republican platform I do admire their commitment to the long view and changing things slowly over a long period of time. There is no reason why we cannot be canny and shrewd in regards to redefining the importance of art and craft for future generations. Most would say that the economy is something that happens to us or at us, depending on where you are in your career and life. We should make the attempt to help swing the odds in our favor as an entity focused on educating the public and supporting artists.

How do we kindle interest in those unaware in what we do? I would say that we need to create a narrative about our work that fits in the lives of others.

Other organizations have done this, and are doing this, with great success. The example that I will cite is the growing organic food industry. In regards to functional pots the similarities are close: consumers of organic produce believe in its health benefits, that it tastes better, that it is better for the environment, and that organic food helps to support the local economy.

Now, take the words “functional pottery” and insert them into this equation and we come up with the same answer: people who buy handmade pots believe in their benefit, that they are better than industrially made pots, that buying from the artist is both better for the environment (just think of the carbon footprint of pots from China) and also helps support the local economy. From 1980 to 2000 organic food sales grew from 78 million to 6 billion dollars. Do we have the chance to help ourselves increase our own profits even a fraction of that amount? Or even a fraction of a fraction?

 

Organic farmers, along with entities like Whole Foods, (huge organically based supermarkets that also sell ready prepared food of many types) have done an excellent job selling the story of the food (some call it education, others marketing). How many times have you noticed the little cards by the butcher counter that give a brief description of the family who raised the chicken that you’re taking home for $10? Our audience loves to come by our studio sales to get a taste of the “potter lifestyle” and see “where the magic happens.” Social media, deeper social media like YouTube and podcasting, can help to do this work for us. They can help tell the story of what happens in the studio or how the potter got to where they are. Think of it as studio sale outreach. We cannot expect the audience that we want: younger, with an appreciation for what we do and the means to show their appreciation, to come to us the way that they used to.

Despite the fact that potters have been at the forefront of social practice and the locally sourced/local economy fad for hundreds of years we do not have the marketing teams that Whole Foods can afford. Much like Wal-Mart has done with their encroachment on the term “organic,” we are beginning to lose ground, more ground, with the terms “craft” and “handmade.” Last year, Martha Stewart introduced her American Made Awards, honoring innovative small businesses that “embody” Martha’s creativity. This award also helps Ms. Stewart to shape what people think about when they think of “American made craft.” It’s not something set in stone, but more ambiguous so as to better fit the Stewart Empire’s marketing and accounting structure.

 We are falling behind by not injecting ourselves into the conversation of what quality is. People are willing to pay $300 for a pair of jeans made in Nashville or $3.99 for Washington grown Honeycrisp apples but balk at a $40 mug. We need to tell our stories better, become more savvy with technology, and to stop expecting things to be like they used to be.        

 What individuals can do on their own is to figure out where to go next and how to build on what we already have. But as important as ways of working individually are, I believe we need to take more accountability as a field for our future. This is business. We try many approaches and share what we learn. Education, craft shows, even a single potter depend on that bottom line for their future. Our advantage is what lies behind that bottom line: a love of making and connecting to others through art. There seems to me to be no reason that we can’t use the latter to strengthen the former.

 From my perspective, the craft world is at something of a crossroads. Built and supported by Baby Boomers and now crumbling under its own history, the fine craft market is ready for a change of leadership. There is a younger generation making excellent contemporary work who don’t fit in at the fine craft shows or the DIY ones. They are in the middle, trying multiple ways of getting their work out there, slowly building their own market, but based on the old one. 

So, is that one answer here? Use digital technology and any other means possible to tell the stories of the makers and the stories behind what is made? Work together to share findings and take little notice of the experience of those who went before, because it no longer has relevance? Avoid use of words like ‘craft’ and ‘hand-made’ as having new meanings in the new millennia? Worth thinking about?

Portage News

This year there is a mixture of prizes for the Portage awards. Apart from the major award of $15,000 for the premier work and a further $6000 distributed amongst others as runners-up and a People’s Choice of $1000, there are two residencies for a one-month period each.

The first is to be an on-going residency opportunity in Denmark, as announced last year by the judge, Paul Scott, who has arranged this with a very fine facility, Guldagergaard about an hour and a half south from Copenhagen. I was there a few years ago and was impressed both with the facilities and the programme and also the line-up of artists who go there to work or teach. It’s one of Europe’s best ceramic centres.

The first one was given to Jim Cooper last year, who has not yet had opportunity to take up this residency as he is being given a special project. Jim will possibly be there next northern summer.

The winner of the award of the residency this year may well also be there next northern summer. They can do their own project or take on one of those at the centre, as I understand it. It’s an on-going addition to the award line-up in that it is planned that this residency will be awarded as long as the Portage keeps going. The awardee will need to make own arrangements to get to Denmark as fares are not a part of the award – just the residency prospect. But it is a superb opportunity.

The other award is a one-off arranged by this year’s judge, Amy Gogarty from Canada. She has organized for one ceramist to have a one-month term of residency at Medalta which, like many ceramic residential centres is situated in a former clay mining and ceramic factory area. It is in the town of Medicine Hat – south-east along the road from Calgary and not far from the USA border. Pioneered by Les Manning, whom some of you may remember as guest for the ’98 national convention in Wellington, it is a thriving place for resolution of projects and pushing one’s work along. Again, the residency is that and transport must be arranged by the recipient. But, like Denmark, bed and board and a space to work in some other location that offers great stimulation and knowledgeable, interested associates plus a good clay culture and history offers great potential.

Importantly –these awards are in no way tied to one another. That is the Premier Award winner does not automatically get a residency also. Each is independent and decided by the judge – Amy Gogarty this year. She will decide who, in her opinion, will receive most benefit or is most deserving of each of the awards independently of one another. I guess that may mean one person could sweep all before her, or him, but that’s pretty unlikely. But it may. Worth trying for if this is where you want to head!

So, don’t leave it any longer. And don’t place all eggs in one basket. And, think carefully about those artist’s statements – maybe see my article on Portage in the recent issue of Journal of Australian ceramics and what might be read from a statement. Or last year’s awards blog on those statements.

Entry closing date August 2^nd and artists can find other information from Lopdell House’s website.

I understand the exhibition will take place, as the new galleries in Titirangi will not be ready before next year, at The Silos on the waterfront – a new exhibition space with interesting architecture and marvellous surrounds plus cafes and bars for later repair to and catch-up with visitors from out of town. ‘The Cloud’ worked splendidly for that last year so hopefully this venue will also serve well.

 

Mirek Smisek 1925 -2013

 

What a life it was, and how well it was lived!

Born in Bohemia in what was then Czechoslovakia, Mirek was 15 when the German Army invaded in 1939. He and his friend Milos Stefanek declared their own war and joined protest groups cutting telegraph wires, throwing rocks and distributing pamphlets for which they were sent to a forced labour camp in Austria. Labouring in the steel works they sabotaged what they could and some months later escaped, with the intent of getting to England to help the Allies but were caught at the Swiss border and interrogated, beaten and interned in a number of prisons in Germany where they survived by watching one another’s backs. Eventually they were returned to the Austrian steel works for more hard labour where they renewed their sabotage activities. They again escaped but were caught once more, this time just before the Czech border and returned to prison camp.  Eventually in 1945 the camp collapsed with the retreat of the German Army and Mirek and Milos walked out and all the way back to Czechoslovakia and home. There they found the Communists taking over and once more felt obliged to rebel against totalitarianism. They saw they must leave, so in September,1946, they escaped USSR dominated Czechoslovakia leaving behind homes and families, perhaps forever. In post-war West Germany Mirek worked for British Intelligence searching out Nazis but realised that this vengeance was not what he wanted from life and instead, saw the future framed with creativity and the positive rather than anything Europe might offer at the time.

Australia

Mirek and Milos emigrated to Australia where, as assisted contracted immigrants, they were sent to Canberra to work and Mirek attended pottery classes in the evenings. After a year he went to Sydney where he worked for the Diana Pottery as designer and one famous product was the ‘Waltzing Matilda’ jugs and beer steins which featured, in low relief, kangaroos and swaggies and played the tune when lifted. The irony was not lost on him – that a refugee recent arrival should be responsible for about 6000 iconic works of Australiana.

New Zealand, Auckland then Nelson.

He moved again in 1951, this time to Auckland, with his new wife Nona Whitbread and almost immediately was employed at Crown Lynn  as clay preparator and helper to Ernie Shufflebotham. His first son was born.  In spare time he practiced on the wheel and his Bohemia ware, in collaboration with Shufflebotham, was produced at this point. But, the following year he moved to Nelson as manager for Nelson Brick and Pipe Company. He set about researching in geological reports and exploring the area for better fireclays and china clays to perfect the bricks. He noted the plasticity and saw potential for his own domestic ware that he was designing and making for firing alongside the factory production. He began teaching and soon had five classes a week with about 80 students. His second son was born. He left the brickworks to concentrate on his own production and the teaching and was cited as New Zealand’s first full-time potter.

However during the 1930s there were several women who made their livings with earthenware for the domestic interior, and even earlier, the nascent pottery industry imported and employed skilled craftsmen from Stoke-on-Trent to make a variety of wares that were fired in the pipe salt kilns. But it is Mirek who is granted the appellation of being our first studio potter. He was well supported by many of the Nelson community plus the Nelson Suter Art Society and given an old fruit shed – at one pound a week – as studio where he built kilns and experimented with salt glaze.

While he was fully engaged with teaching and making his own wares, the styles of which were mainly influenced by his background in Europe, there arrived in Nelson Terry Barrow, Len Castle and Barry Brickell on a geological expedition. They met with Mirek and, between expeditions for clays by day and philosophical discussions late into the nights, introduced him to the Leach Book with its transformative chapter, Toward a Standard  that Mirek cited for the remainder of his career. “It was a creative philosophy directed to inspire people for a richer, more expressive life”.

He made his first trip to Japan in 1961. There he was given space to work at Kyoto University and more space to build kilns. Many fine potters came through during that six months and among them, Bernard Leach, who invited him to work at St Ives. This he did in 1963/4 where he was part of the team making production ware for St Ives while developing his own work after hours. On his return he built two new kilns. Many believe that the pieces made at this juncture, with their finely salted surfaces and well designed, neatly thrown functionality to be among his strongest work. Often they featured additions of intricately woven cane handles and stoppers made by Doug Price.

In 1965 came the most anticipated, discussed and attended visit which attracted potters from all over the country – the arrival of Shoji Hamada to Christchurch for the Pan Pacific Arts Festival. Mirek was his chief helper, mixer of glazes, wedger of clays and kicker of wheel. The famous photograph by George Kohlap, Sunday at Arthur’s Pass showing, carefully arranged on the rocks around a mountain stream, was the then ‘inner circle’ of NZ pottery, except two were missing. Hamada was taking some rest while Mirek was firing the kiln back at Yvonne Rust’s studio. There is a lovely image on p.81 of Cone Ten Down, showing Hamada and Mirek quietly taking coffee beside the kiln shed.

Clearly Hamada saw promise in Mirek for he invited him to Japan which was made possible in 1967 by a Japanese Government Travel Award to visit and to study the folk potteries in Southern Japan.

Te Horo

The following year Mirek moved to the Kapiti area with Jane Beverley and his daughter Hana was born. He moved to TeHoro in 1969 and he made a studio, and later accommodation for students and guests, in the old railway station buildings he had moved there. These were most productive years. He participated in the Japan Expo in 1970 and exhibited with other leading NZ potters at the V&A in London in 1972. His work was part of a NZ Government gift to Queen Elizabeth in 1974 and he was granted QEII Arts Council Travel Award  to view Jomon pottery in Japan and English medieval pots in the Guildhall Museum, London.  He received the World Crafts Council Diploma for Distinguished Work and exhibited in Toronto, Canada.

He had clients still from Nelson while being in easy travelling distance from Wellington where, via a major solo exhibition he was given at The Dowse, his profile was greatly enhanced. He built two beautiful beehive kilns housed beneath old railway structures and the work sold briskly from the retail set-up he was able to add to the property. His ‘Open Kiln Day’ was so popular that people would sometimes arrive as much as three days prior so as to be first in line for purchases and the festivities which included dance companies performing and folk musicians singing, a chamber music group playing or poetry readings and story-telling sessions. They were mini-arts festivals with the added bonus of great sales. Pamela Ansouth joined Mirek at this exciting stage after meeting him at one of the highly regarded Palmerston North Training College Summer Schools in ceramics organised by Stan Jenkins in the late 70’s.

Mirek erected a 10 metre high crow’s nest so he might see the sea and the surrounding Tararua Ranges and he was part of the ‘naturalised pot’ movement where aspects of New Zealand’s landscape was evident in the work. For Mirek, as for Len Castle, it was a material, often linear interpretation combined with evocative glaze finishes and rich, germane coloration. The Te Horo kilns produced a more generous, fulsomely fluid, salt glaze that Mirek frequently applied over sgraffito through coloured slips, parallel linear lines or cross-hatching that caught the flow of salt at high temperatures. Such lush finishes aptly suited the more expressive style he had steadily developed since moving to Kapiti and cut rims particularly, mirrored the undulations of the surrounding hills while the salt highlights reflected light off the nearby water.

Waikanae

In 1997 he and Pamela moved to Weggery Drive in Waikanae with direct access to the water and beach and for which a semi-retirement was planned but – unable to continue firing salt there on the suburban coast he installed gas kilns and again the work changed. This later work was softer, without the crispness of profile of the Nelson or TeHoro works and surfaces, naturally, were much altered in character. But his much admired ‘Snowglaze’, with its icing-sugary surface and sometimes soft undulations of delicate colour cloaking a bowl that could still amply demonstrate his years of expert handling and love of the clay, offered much to respect and appreciate. It was a third stage in a well-spent lifetime of creative endeavor. At this point also he gained much delight in teaching local children various ways of making in clay and he effectively communicated his pleasure in creating with a next generation.

The Accolades

In 1980 the Suter Gallery exhibited his work celebrating 25 years since his arrival there and again in 1994 to mark his 40 years of making and creating. He was always one of Nelson’s favourite sons. He continued travels and studies and visited the USA, Europe and japan in ’82 and exhibited at Saltzbrand, Germany in ’86 while the following year he exhibited in the USA with others of Leach/St Ives lineage. In 1989, with the fall of the ‘Wall’ he returned to Czech Republic/Czechoslovakia to visit family and again in 1991 to study Bohemian and Moravian ceramics. In 1990 he was awarded the OBE for services to NZ arts and in 2000 made the pots for the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy. In 2003 he received the Governor General’s Art Award and was made Fellow of the NZ Academy of Fine Arts. He was presented with the Medal of the Senate of the Czech Republic in 2008 and the following year exhibited at the Wallenstein Palace in Prague at the invitation of the Senate of the Czech Republic.

 

My own favourite personal memory of Mirek was from Prague, Czech Republic in 1994. I had suggested he come as the International Academy of Ceramics was meeting there that year. The Czechs were most hospitable and we were privileged in visiting the old storage rooms of museums, fantastical castles in remote, carefully preserved medieval townships and personal collections of early industrial wares from Europe’s discovering porcelain days held in grand apartments. Mirek was, as was his wont, fully engaged and delighted with all that was on offer. I best recall, late one moonlit night after return from a coach-trip somewhere, a group of us crossing the Vlata River via the Charles Bridge which was a wide, cobble-stoned, pedestrian-only structure lined every ten metres by bronze statuary of historical figures in Czech history (including good King Wenceslas who last looked out quite a while ago). Ahead was a cliff and on that cliff was Prague castle, by then brilliantly illuminated by lighting (we were five years after the overthrow of Communism) We were, all 12-15 of us, arm-in-arm walking along, ceramists from all over the world – France, Germany, USA, Argentina, Iceland, Ireland, Japan, Italy and Hungary, Norway and Turkey plus we two from Down-under. Many of them were very well-known ceramists and we were having a ball! Mirek was floating…. He was so proud that Prague had put on a wonderful assembly enjoyed by every participant, and exhibited some of the finest old and new ceramics from every corner of the world it seemed. And Prague was looking so very beautiful! Its historical centre, with the world’s greatest mix of architectural styles, from medieval to Art Deco once again come to vibrant life. This was his city! And he was beaming with pleasure and pride! I shall not forget it.

 

His was a life spent in creativity – the course he determined following all those war-time hardships and privations. Creativity was his antidote and the only way to spend a life in his estimation. His acquaintance with the Leach philosophy, which he honoured and spoke warmly about all his life, was icing on the gingerbread. We were lucky to have him, with his generosity of spirit and celebratory nature, among us for so long. It was a well-spent time on earth and while some years were harder than others, and health issues prevailed at times, he remained an optimist throughout.

I, for one, will miss him and his beaming smile every time I pass near Kapiti.

A service of memorial will be held at the Academy of Fine Arts, Wellington, on the finale of the tour of his exhibition, Sixty Years and Sixty Pots , assembled by Mahara Gallery

Sunday, June 9^th at 3pm. All will be most welcome.

Barry Brickell at The Dowse Art Museum

Some images from the Barry Brickell exhibition, opening events on 3/4th May at the Dowse Art Museum.

Gallery view with steam engine pots

The ultimate steam engine that actually spurts steam (only it was not allowed in an art gallery) behind is the tile mural depicting meat workers details of which follow.

The only one of Brickell’s set of railway tiles that made it into the show. My personal favourites of his wide oeuvre, this set belongs to The Dowse and in my opinion is some of his best work combining, as they do, all his passions and developments into one set of evocative images. There were, apparently mounting and cost issues which prevented all from being shown.

A set of press-moulded plates decorated by Hamish Keith.

Opening night in the gallery. The scale of some of his largest works can be appreciated.

The Pacific (lapita influenced) large vessel that seemed to me to be one of the strongest works when the Seville exhibition was viewed in Amsterdam. It was one of the few works that was not overwhelmed by the architectural setting provided by the Niew Kierk in the Dam Square.

Detail from the meat workers semi-relief mural

Another detail

and another….

and another

and another

Next morning at the ‘walk-around. Curator David Craig in full swing while Barry seeks respite from a lean on the wall

This time its Barry talking and David Craig, (right) with Tom Elliott as timekeeper…very necessary as the most vigorous talk took more than an hour to complete. Both speakers were in fine fettle.

Rediscovered Book – A Pottery Story

This is a reproduction, a new book of the print-on-demand type seen increasingly around, which is a story by Charles Dickens called A POTTERY STORY.  The publishers say….”originally published before 1923. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part of the original artifact, or were introduced by the scanning process. We believe this work is culturally important, and despite the imperfections, have elected to bring it back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed worksworldwide. We appreciate your understanding of the imperfections in the preservation process, and hope you enjoy this valuable book.”

There is no record of story content but being Dickens you can probably expect the deprivations of the lower classes and the arrogance of the upper class while the occasional magnanimous middle class person saves the day by mention in a will, keeping kindly eye or operating behind the scenes. Dickens could tell a grand story around class dysfunctions and sharply delineated social strata of the 18th/19th centuries. What looks promising is that this one seems set in Staffordshire when the captains of industry ran the Stoke on Trent potteries that were at the heart of the industrial revolution, up there with the steam engine and the cotton jenny. 5xstar rating.
Price US$12.71 from Abe Books or Book Depository….freight free.

This book, perhaps coupled with the small history  on The Potteries by David Sekers and published by Shire Library make a good pair. (illus from the latter book)

ceramics factory – packing

 

Mirek Smisek

Just heard Mirek Smisek died yesterday. Just as his retrospective exhibition, 60 years and 60 pots was starting its final showing and in Wellington at the Academy of Fine Arts gallery. Our sincere condolences to Pamela and more later once further information comes to hand.

Barry Brickell Book

His Own Steam

Here is the cover of the new book on Barry Brickell that will accompany his exhibition, opening at The Dowse on May 3rd with floor talk on 4th (See Dowse site for details) and later to tour, in part, to other centres.  Its a thick and heavy, substantial tome, good paper, layout design and high production values with ample white space. As soon as it’s in your hands you know it’s something that must be returned to time and again.

It is centred upon Barry the potter with less about his murals or his railway building or ecological projects.  Although they are mentioned and the first two have their own books anyway. It is about Barry the artist and one of the Peter Pan figures of New Zealand art and culture – as David Craig says… lost boys who never grow up but remain innocent , oppositional, primitive and iconoclastic all their lives – Potiki figures, symbolising mischief, arrested innocence, and a kind of magic that is at potent odds with authority and orthodoxy.

There is an engagingly narrative Foreword by Hamish Keith, a useful chronology and four fine essays – three by David Craig tackling and elaborating on various aspects of BB’s life, work and career and one by Gregory O’Brien around his contemporaries. The writing is fine indeed, one could say superb and the best I have seen in any book yet about a  potter in New Zealand – it catches the man and his times and embraces the work – not a recipe or a cliche in sight. They are not presented here as lengthy essays but intelligently broken up into short textual pieces that are aptly framed by images.
And what images! A few we have seen before but they are necessary in a book such as this. Grand historic images taken by visiting photographers like Gil Hanly, Robin Morrison or Steve Rumsey are used as well as those specially made for the book by Haru Sameshima. Some images bear importance from first glance while others, seemingly inconsequential, edge their content forward over repeated viewing. Sometimes there is a grand ceramic overview, sometimes a full-page single work glowing richly with salt and other times clustered and cluttered on some shelf alongside those bits of detritis from daily living – all places where pots are known to gather. Clearly a mountain of work has gone into sourcing and processing them.
There is the odd familiar face here and there throughout the book and a number of unfamiliar ones – part of the passing parade that has journeyed through Driving Creek over the years on their own paths to somewhere and doubtless energised by contact with a singular vision created on his own terms and under his own steam (pardon the pun) .

If one were to have a teensy carp it is the occasional cropping of a full image of a work – most notably that on the cover. The good news is that this is a dust jacket which in the end may meet the fate of many dust jackets and fall off because of repeat viewings and beneath that, on front and back hard covers are a dozen delightful images collaged together – historical and contemporary -  depicting more of the life and times at Driving Creek.

Those are my immediate thoughts on having an advance copy delivered to my door. I have not done more than scan and read excerpts so far…. it is worthy of, and will get, full attention very soon.  It is published by Auckland University Press.

Front and back dust cover