Driving Creek Pottery Artist Residency
Interview with Urth
Firstly, I would love to know how you got into ceramics. What drew you to it, and what keeps you inspired by this creative expression?
I studied and obtained an Honours degree of Interior Architecture from the University of New South Wales and within this undertook several electives relating to clay, including hand building and slip casting. I have also completed courses in metal, timber and glass. I aimed to better my knowledge of materials to then propose them in projects within my degree. These mediums all lead to an increased interest in tactility and therefore the desire for functionality was still present but less essential. The more I use clay the less it becomes a tool of function and more of experimentation.
What is the process behind each piece of art (do you have a plan before you sit down and create, or is it impulsive and free form)
I often sketch pieces prior to creation. This isn’t done in any strict manner and will usually be a scribble while down at the river gazing at the trees or when reading a book or having a vastly interesting conversation.
I was recently lucky enough to partake in a five week artist residency in Aotearoa, New Zealand on the Coromandel Peninsula at Driving Creek Pottery. I had the opportunity to dig clay from the surrounding mountain ranges, as well as, using clay dug on site. To sieve the clay and reintroduce grog, small bits of glass, rock and ceramic. This can be done using natural grog, but a special part of the DCP process of making ones clay is that all works that aren’t desired by the artist are thrown into the ‘crusher’ and crushed down into small pieces of grog. This can be used to add into a clay body by the next residing potters and thus small fragments of past work is reborn into new work. A sustainable and cyclical system that makes each piece made at DCP a touch more special. To dig mud from the earth, make something entirely unique with ones hands, add flame of up to 1400 degrees and be confronted with an otherworldly artefact once cooled is a rewarding feat. There is presence felt at every step, to experiment with no expectation of outcome, no desire of function and with complete surrender to various uncontrollable elements is a feeling of acceptance and surrender. It seems to purge out works that emulate a moment in time, capturing such presence and holding it within the work, resulting in pieces truly unique unto themselves.
What does ‘home’ mean to you
I am yet to define what the meaning of home is for myself, although I can recall the feeling of home. I wrote these words one afternoon on the hill overlooking Driving Creek and felt in that moment the warmth of home;
A light breeze gently tapping the Kanuka together. The shade cloth overhead floating, rise and fall.
It’s shadow lifting from my skin and slowly sinking back in
As it lifts, the warmth of sunlight touches and is felt all over
A hot cup of tea to enjoy in this momentary abandoning and returning of the sun.
Hands dry of clay, of earth
Will these hands feel soft again?
Hands that make, that work, that touch, that crack, that seek, that shadow ones face from that now returning sunlight and that grasp a warm cup of tea with contentment.
Are you intentional with objects and artworks you keep in the space you call home? How do they inform your daily habits, rituals and creativity?
I would consider my working area/studio to feel most significant in terms of a place where special artefacts I admire are kept. Some noteworthy objects that I have accumulated recently and hold dearly now live in this space. A few are;
Riccardo Scotts’ sculpture he burnt in the fire box during our Phoenix Wood firing. It came out charred with drips of soda and crystal covering its surface, a piece that seems to grow and transform each time I gaze upon it. Phoebe Ryders’ beautiful ceramic bottle that makes me feel I could capture secrets and stories and keep them hidden in there to come back to later. Callum Trudgeons’ blue wood fired cup, the same slip he created and allowed me to use on a few pieces in my first wood firing, that are now my most treasured made pieces. Anneke Borrens’ immaculate work in a cup, a true master potter and a piece that I can continue to contemplate, to always aspire to her level of knowledge and wisdom. A Holly Morgan piece with hints of silt, silt that came directly from the devastating floods in Hawkes Bay and surrounds, a noteworthy approach to sustainability and creating light even in the dark. Laurie Steer and Kalou, I do not have a piece of their physical makings however, I have absorbed their incredible whit and perspectives that I hope transcends into my work to come. And of course, Barry Brickell, although I do not have a piece by Barry in my space, I feel as if a part of his legacy and DCP has come back with me in what I created there, a truly inspiring artist and being.
How do you feel upon returning from your residency?
A feeling of gratitude and fulfilment. I was able to absorb perspective, experience, and wisdom that ultimately lead to many achievements in my practice, as well as, within myself. It offered an assurance when reflecting on the space I am in and the direction I am moving.
Is there a feeling or response you hope to cultivate in your art?
Fostering the notion of presence with no expectation or outcome. A strong connection to or reflection of our natural world.
Your recent body of work captures the tones of the red earth and red sky we see and the beginning and end of every day. What drew you to these colours and textures?
I feel most myself in nature. I am continuously overwhelmed by the ability of our natural world. Each tree trunk, its bark and pattern idiosyncratic, the reddish colour of a fallen leaf, the rippling translucence of water as it moves over rock, the orange of the sky at sunset, the unique initials of every marking on stone, the green of the grass. Such things have immense impact on my mind and imagination, which ultimately extend into my creative practice.
