Ros Arrowsmith

Exhibitions

Norwich is very lucky to have the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts as a centre for art at the University of East Anglia.  It often focusses on ceramics, with a permanent collection of some of my favourite potters like Lucie Rie, Edmund de Waal and Gabriele Koch, as well as weird and wonderful tribal art, butted up against Degas, Francis Bacon and Giacometti paintings.  It’s an amazing building designed by Norman Foster and has a tranquil feeling inside. They host fantastic exhibitions which I always want to go to but generally find myself, with one weekend before it closes, desperately trying to find a time to visit.

This happened last week when I realised that The Russia Season with Royal Faberge and Radical Russia about to close.  Visiting on the weekend with a three year old in tow was not appealing so I allowed myself to use part of my one child-free weekday to go.  I really struggle with this because as soon as I have child-free time, I think I must get into the workshop and frantically make pots.  I have a long list and really need to grab every moment that I can.  The guilt of doing anything else can be huge.  However, going to see exhibitions and absorbing visual culture to get new ideas and see how things have been done is so inspiring and really important to a maker’s work.  The delicious thrill of visiting somewhere all on my own is also rather enjoyable!

I was reminded of my GCSE History in the Faberge exhibition, with stories of the Russian royal family just before the Russian Revolution, their connection to Norfolk at Sandringham House and all the pieces that Faberge made for them, some gaudy, some funny and some sublime.  I was particularly taken by a collection of cigarette cases, two in bright royal blue and one in golden yellow.  The switchback snake design picked out in diamonds on one of the blue ones was the star for me.

My Fail and other Opportunities

On Sunday, I found out that I had missed the chance to be in the Anglian Potters Undercroft Exhibition in Norwich this year. I had completely failed to open or even to see the email that arrived just after Christmas with a handy link to apply. There I was, merrily telling people all year that I would be in the exhibition again this year as I was last year in its first year. There are now 75 people signed up to exhibit and six on the waiting list. No chance for me. Hurumph.  

 I found this information out at an Anglian Potters demo day, one of about five they run each year. They are a wonderful way to see different, often high profile, potters.  They spend the morning telling us about their career development though the medium of photos, often with an unexpected technical hitch, and then they get out the clay in the afternoon and show us what they are made of. It's such a pleasure to sit in a room with hordes of very knowledgable potters, asking really good, enthusiastic questions about kiln temperatures and different clay types and properly geeking out over pottery. Anyway, I sat there watching Nick Marsh demonstrate, occasionally berating myself that I had missed out in this exhibition but at some point during the day, I realised that I could just turn it round and make it a positive thing. 

 My March has been looking very busy and I have started a long Make List for it. Without this exhibition, I can still make the work and put it on Etsy or into some current or new suppliers' shops, both of which I have been meaning to do for a long time. I have three year old son to look after before any pots are made which means that it is often a struggle to get the work done that I want to.  

 I was so encouraged by entering the Undercroft Exhibition last year which was the first Anglian Potters show that I had exhibited in. I finally felt like the quality and style of my pots was up to the high standards of the other makers and was rewarded by several sales.  I went onto to exhibit at Emmanuel College, Cambridge for the Anglian Potters summer exhibition and sold even more than in Norwich, my facetted work proving very popular.  I will just have to keep an eye on my emails in future and learn from this slip up.

This week, I have been mainly working on making plates and bowls for the Farmyard Restaurant in Norwich. I had ten main bowls to throw. These are wide low bowls for serving main courses.  When I first talked to Andrew about them, he said to imagine there was a piece of fish in the bottom of them to make them flat enough in the centre.  Ever since then, I can’t help but imagine a piece of fish at the bottom of each one as I throw it.  Satisfyingly, I have also eaten at least one piece of fish from one of these bowls at the Farmyard and it looked pretty great!  It tasted fabulous too.

The reason I am talking about this is because I think that throwing main bowls might be my favourite thing to throw at the moment.  They have a real moment of revealing their true shape which I find magical.  

2017, The year of Plates

I started the year barely looking up from my wheel, frantically making plates for Farmyard, a restaurant about to be opened on St Benedict’s Street in Norwich at the end of January.  

https://www.farmyardrestaurant.com/

Before that order, I had never made a plate before so it was a steep learning curve to make a large plate suitable for serving main courses at a restaurant.  

During this order, I had about a 50% success rate with making these plates.  I would open the kiln after the glaze firing and see these lovely plates sitting on the shelves, only to find that they were stuck fast to the shelf and would have to be chiselled off, as well as the remaining glaze being chiselled off the shelf.  I got very good at that!  I gradually improved my techniques, using more clay to give a higher foot ring, making a slightly smaller foot ring and then pushing the middle of the plate around so that it was completely level, not bowing down or up, after turning the foot ring (carving out the clay) and then going back to the plate the next day to push it around again as it moved during drying.  All these tweaks continued on the plates that I made through the year and I now find myself with about a 90% success rate with plates – it being a surprise if one is stuck to the kiln shelf, rather than a celebration if it is not stuck.

I finished 2017 as I started, making plates for Farmyard.  They have been very successful this year and ordered more plates to accommodate their large number of covers each day.  I have the great pleasure of making more for them using all that I have learnt this year, to make plates that no longer worry me, but are hugely satisfying as I lift them off the kiln shelves, as perfect as I had hoped (mostly!).

I have been really lucky to have had other orders for plates through the year.  Small collections of various sized plates as well as a great big dinner service which took up most of my time from August to the end of the year. This, again, was a great challenge. My customers wanted the usual plates and bowls, twelve of each kind, as well as serving dishes, a teapot, mugs, even oval serving dishes and gravy boats.  I think the thing I was most proud of was a lidded “sopera”, a large curved pot to serve soup from.  One of the customers is Spanish and a great cook, hence the need for this.

Making the plates for Farmyard got me very interested in matt glazes because this was one of their requirements.  We used three different matt glazes, a couple of which are quite temperamental depending on where they sit in the kiln for the glaze firing.  I got to know their foibles and have been able to experiment with them. It was a natural progression for me to put a matt glaze on my facetted pots, something I got very interested in when I wasn’t making plates!  It turned out to be extremely popular with customers, meaning that by my last craft fair of the year, I was practically sold out of all my facetted work, with orders for more of particular products.  I did an exhibition in a church, Wymondham Arts Centre, and suddenly saw the facetted pieces quite literally in a different light.  The pale morning sun was creeping through the high long windows of the church, illuminating one side of the pots that I had set down as I unpacked them and picking out the planes of the surfaces. I intend to play around with that thought this year and hope to make table lights as well as other things if all goes to plan.

A huge change that happened this year, not related to pots particularly is that I got a new workshop at home.  After three other workshops, I now have a ten step commute to work and I have my own kilns. One is a great big beast of a kiln and one, a small kiln which fires one or two mugs, intended for my personalised range which is beginning to tick along very nicely on Etsy.  I can now say that they will only take two or three weeks to make, rather than the six or so weeks that I used to say when I had to wait for a whole kiln load to be ready to fire.  These days, with no car journey to my workshop, I can be found there late at night if I need to be, when the toddler is asleep and nobody is making demands on me.  I have become very well acquainted with Jo Whiley’s radio show which keeps me company!

The final significant thing of 2017 that occurs to me is the purchase of a spray gun and compressor for spraying on glaze.  I did this without question at university but since then, I have only dipped my pots into buckets of glaze to glaze them, or poured it on.  However, my dinner service commission had a blue glaze for part of it which would show up every little drip and spot and this was not what my customers wanted. A spray gun was required and after much deliberating and worrying, I got one and used it.  Many thanks go to the engineer husband of a dear friend of mine who showed me how to use it and made me realise that it was not terrifying but in fact, marvellous! Many more pots will be sprayed now because the finish is so smooth, an exciting prospect.

The past few weeks have been rather exciting because I have become part of a new website called Oodlique.  

https://oodlique.com

It sells personalised work so I have my named mugs and birth tablets on there and plan to make examples of other work that I have been asked to make in the past, like salad bowls with exam results on and names followed by learned letters following jubilant university graduations.

It feels really nice to be part of a community of like-minded makers who produce this kind of work rather than just me in my stable stall!  We have a Facebook page that allows us to all talk about how it’s going and ask questions.  It’s also really interesting to see the beginnings of an online business and to see how they promote it and get traffic to the website.  We have all been encouraged to talk about it on social media and lead our customers to it which makes sense seeing as they already like this kind of work.  I’ve also been looking at the product photography which has been done by the individual makers and varies in style and quality.  So far, my photos are on a plain cream background but I am planning to do some more interesting photos with rooms sets or at least a couple of props to promote a mood along with showing off the product.  I’ve even started a Pinterest board of product photography that I like to get some ideas.

I was listening to the radio today (no surprise there, it’s permanently on) and they had a blogger talking about how posting once a month is way too little and I thought, oh dear. Hence the entry here.

The past few weeks have been really busy with lots of exciting things happening.  I have been working with someone on a commission for them which will be revealed soon hopefully and we have agreed on the design and glazes.  That means I can start it finally.  I’ve found that the practice that I’ve done for it has paid dividends on my throwing speed and style which isn’t something I expected but of course, I’m very happy about that.  Long may it continue!  

I have become part of a new website called Oodlique  https://oodlique.com/   which will sell all sorts of selected personalised work.  I was asked to be part of it which is heartening and I’m interested to see what comes of it when it launches in October.  It’s very nice to have lots of other crafts people who make beautiful, individual things and to know that they are all high quality, having been picked by the creators of the website.

After the excitement of making teapots last week, I had the added joy of decorating them this week.  One of them was reserved for a very special budgie, Sir Oliver Spencer-Anders.  He is also a very well travelled bird, born in Japan and brought over to South Africa when his owner moved home.  

It was a bit of a daunting task to decorate the teapot, milk jug and sugar bowl with his likeness and it’s taken a while for me to work up to it.  I’m rather pleased with the result though!  I might try some other animals on pots now.

I have finally screwed up my courage and embarked on the process of making teapots for the first time since I had my son, 16 months ago.  

Making teapots is a daunting task because it tests all of my pottery skills.  I have to throw a large body for the pot and add a gallery which is where the lid rests.  Next, I must measure my gallery width and throw a lid to fit it. Once that is done, I throw a spout, pull a handle, turn the body and lid and assemble the pieces. The spout also requires a strainer of holes cut into the body, apparently more for keeping the strength in the wall than straining the tea leaves but I’m happy for it to have two purposes!

I had to make sure that I had time to work on the teapots because I have needed each of the four days that I have spent on the four that I have made.  The lids and body must be thrown at the same time because then they dry at the same rate and the measurements of the lid and gallery can be accurate through the days.  I say this very assuredly and quietly hope that my lids will still fit by the time the teapots have been fired twice and glazed.

A good teapot is a fine thing.  I was brought up on “teapot tea”.  Loose leaf tea was a way of life in my parents’ house and various teapots were, and still are,  available for different numbers of people gathered to receive the brew.  Teapots were not just to sit on the shelf and look pretty, or even to be brought out for weekend breakfasts as they are in our house now.  They were used every day and were seen by many people so I consider it very important for a teapot to be beautiful and functional.  I suspect I shall be chasing the goal of producing such a teapot all my pottery life.  After all, it’s no fun if you think you’ve made the best pot you ever will!

Today is the most beautifully sunny day – and very cold.  These bright blue skied days with the crisp cold are one of my favourite times of year.  This morning, our back garden was frozen with a hoar frost, encasing the leaves and emphasising their shapes.  Now that I’m writing this, I’m wondering why I didn’t get my camera out, but the small matter of getting my son and I ready to leave the house has something to do with it!

In my workshop, the weather makes a huge difference to feel of the space.  If the sun shines, light floods in from a great big window that was the old double-doored entrance to the stable block and the door that we use now is also glass.  The room heats up and a particular favourite pastime is to have a tea break sitting at the window, dosing up on vitamin D in the cold winter months.  

I live in the city and commute to the countryside which helps me notice the changing of the seasons even more strongly because I’m not constantly surrounded by it in such a big way. My farmer landlord tells me about his daily activities, be they drilling (sowing) sugar beet or harvesting parsley.

Now, the blossom is starting to explode in the hedgerows and I can hear a few more birds calling.  The daffodils are threatening to take over from the snowdrops and the crocuses are poking up as well to add a different colour to the proceedings.  The days are getting longer and I no longer have to do a balancing act between getting my keys out, turning out the main lights and then the kitchen lights before madly waving outside to get the sensor light to come on and show me where the keyhole is to lock up.  

Friday morning dawned to the smell of chocolate buns baking as I ran around the house trying to remember everything that we might need for the day.

My pottery workshop mate, Emma Wells and I had organised a Macmillan Biggest Coffee Morning above our workshop for Friday.  My grandfather had fantastic care from a Macmillan Nurse at the end of his life for which we were so grateful and I wanted to do something to support this wonderful charity.

What better way to do that than with homemade cakes and tea?!

I dusted off the cake recipe book and got a-baking, mainly in good temper until a burn on my arm and an apparently cooked cake poured out raw mixture when turned upside down to cool forced me to sit down and take a break!

Emma and I set out our tempting creations in the lovely room above our workshop amongst our pots which just happened to be on sale at the same time. 

10am rolled around and we had our first visitors immediately.  They tucked in and the stream of social chattering got underway, only quietening at 1pm when we were due to finish. 

People donated generously and entered the competitions that Macmillan had sent in their Coffee Morning pack.  The cake all seemed to go down very well, washed down with generous helpings of tea and coffee.

The last few people kindly helped us clear up the crumbs and make everything shipshape again and then we collapsed, happy in the knowledge that we had raised over £350!!  What a wonderful result!

We’re hoping to do it again, probably with another charity this time and then this time next year, we can support Macmillan again.

Last week, I loaded my car with my tent, waterproofs and a couple of dozen bisque fired bowls and other pots. I was going to the annual Anglian Potters five day Potters’ Camp in Suffolk.

The deluge of rain that I drove through didn’t bode well for putting up my tent with any level of comfort but happily, the clouds parted and the sun was shining by the time I arrived.  A warm welcome and a happy guide took me to a suitable spot in the orchard of the garden that we were staying in to pitch my tent.  Offers of help came thick and fast as well as greetings and introductions.

About 80 potters from the East Anglian region and beyond converge on this site every year for what is certainly the highlight in the Anglian Potters’ calendar.  I joined last October and have met very few members who haven’t insisted that I go to the camp, with a wistful look in their eye as they remember past times.

The camp is very much about exploring the effects of different kilns which are dotted about the garden, all built by the potters and with various experts overseeing their particular one, it’s a fascinating process.  We were all directed to get our pots glazed in different ways for the different firings and had the opportunity to put them into a wood firing, salt, soda, gas reduction and raku.  There was also raw firing for the brave souls who managed to get unfired pots to the camp in one piece.

Volunteers were quickly rounded up to man the soda, wood, gas reduction and salt firings which lasted between 10 and 14 hours, whilst the raku smouldered the whole time with people taking it in turns to fire their own pieces, whilst hopefully keeping their arm hair and eyebrows unsinged as they lifted their pots out of the kiln at 1000 degrees and plunged them into dustbins of sawdust.

The smoke was soon belching out of this area of the garden and those of us not assigned to a particular kiln could concentrate on other things.  As a thrower, I focussed on the wheels and pumped the more experienced throwers for information, desperately trying to think of new questions so that I wouldn’t kick myself for not asking something once back in my solitary workshop.  Every time I sat down for a little break with a cup of tea, I seemed to manage to catch another demo or workshop.  A particularly fruitful tea break resulted in me making some pretty blue fused glass earrings, thanks to Eileen. 

I managed to get a one to one throwing session with a very experienced thrower who showed me how to relax into it and consider my movements to be like a dance, with each gesture marked in the clay.  Hopefully, this will help me to throw bigger and surely more artistic pots, how could I fail after analogies like that!

The evenings were mainly together, we were treated to homemade pizza, fired in the purpose built pizza kilns on site.  I have wonderful memories of tucking into some pizza whilst listening to the band, Dragonfruit, that came to play for us and watching the huge bottle kiln glowing in the dark.  This kiln was built from hundreds of wine bottles that we were requested to bring in memory of a much missed member who was very much the life and soul of Potters’ Camp for many years past.  The kiln was expected to distort and collapse during the firing but stayed firm, mainly because the flames were escaping from the top rather than staying inside and heating it up to the required 700 odd degrees needed to melt glass.  It meant that we could light it again the next night and that the garden now has a new feature!

Other memories of the raging wind and rain of the tail end of Hurricane Bertha whilst I was tucked up in my cosy tent linger; chatting to almost all of the 80 odd people there at one point or another; drinking tea from beautiful hand thrown mugs of various designs, shapes and colours; swimming each evening at a lovely pool nearby and singing in the Dire Choir for the Saturday night social gathering.

This week had a slow start as we returned home from a huge, beautiful and dramatic road trip to Scotland.  We returned with a friend of mine who I hadn't seen for 6 and a half years.  She managed to talk for most of the 8 hours of our car journey which certainly helped the time go by!

It took a while to come back to earth, my mind still gazing at the soaring slopes of the Highlands of Scotland.  However, by yesterday, I was back in the groove. I had a couple of students in the morning which is always interesting because it makes me think about my technique and also analyse what they are doing.  

I was inspired when I visited the Burning Bush Barn by Rockland St Mary church yesterday lunchtime.  I had been meaning to visit because I had heard about the creative leader of the building, Wendy.  It was such a treat to see paints, printing blocks and an old fashioned sewing machine laid out, waiting for people to use them.  Local artists gather together in this beautiful white space and consider their work.  I'm hoping to meet more of them next week. 

The warm afternoon was spent throwing big bowls, experimenting with different shapes and thicknesses of the walls.

A couple of weeks ago, we were in Spain.  Some much needed relaxation and many books read, we soaked up the sun, revelled in the Iberian atmosphere and delicious food.  We often go to the south of Spain and always make sure we go to Malaga for a day.  It’s such a typically Spanish city, surprising amidst the Costa del Sol where you’re more likely to find a Sunday roast than paella.  We wandered through the beautiful pale stone streets, in search of the perfect spot for our cafe con leche and pan con tomate under a palm tree.  Picasso came from Malaga and understandably, they are very keen to promote the fact.  Several years ago, we visited the Picasso Museum there which converted me to his strange angles and vigorous lines.  We decided to revisit and once again, got excited about the energy that you could see springing off the canvas.  He was keen on pottery and there was a particularly spry looking grinning goat on a plate on display, very similar to the one below.  Watch this space for my own version!

Home again and the weather was so warm, it felt like we were still in Spain.  In my workshop, I threw some teapot bodies and some mugs and left them out as usual to dry for the next part of the process.  I was quite shocked when I realised that a whole day early, they were dry enough to turn, when I turn over the pot and carve a foot into it.  I spent quite some time attaching teapot spouts and handles to my teapot bodies, only to find them all cracking off again.  

Our April showers seem to have arrived in May this year.  Yesterday, with the wind whistling around, my little workshop was decidedly chilly and the rain started creeping in under the door, reminding me of the winter.  I was happy in my work though with the radio keeping me company.

I've been in my lovely little stable stall workshop for four months now.  I've got everything where I want it to be and take great pride in keeping it spick and span (my standards might not be as high as others'!).  A friend came to visit me yesterday and kept admiring different parts of it like the beautiful old butler's sink in the kitchen and the jolly blue and red ceramic light fittings.  It's nice to see it through fresh eyes and appreciate how lucky I am to have such a nice workspace and to be doing what I love.

I made some new pots with Acer leaves painted on them recently.  The designs were taken from an Acer tree in our garden.  We bought it last year and, neglectful gardeners that we can be, left it in its pot until January this year when it was reduced to a mere twig.  Full of hope but resigned to wasting my time, I planted it.  And it grew.  The bright red buds appeared and lengthened, slowly spreading their leaves as I imagine a baby bird would spread its toes for the first time.  It was a magnificent little tree.  Until my husband plonked a plank on it in the midst of his DIY and had to confess to me that he had entirely killed it.  Every branch had been snapped off.  With sorrowful hearts, we replaced it, although it’s not quite the same. However, we haven’t forgotten our original tree and even now, it is in a pot, once again sending out its first bright red buds, waiting to be planted in our friends’ garden where, hopefully, it will remain unscathed in its burning gloriousness.

As I have watched the leaves unfurling and splashes of colour springing up around me, my business has also begun to grow and show green shoots of life.  Since January, I have been happily working away in my workshop with only the radio for company, and the occasional appearance of the magnificently hirsute farm cat, Chairman Meow.   However, the time came to sell my pots.  I have been to several craft fairs since then, ranging from a pre-school fundraiser in Mattishall to the enormous East Anglian Bump, Baby and Toddler Show at the UEA.  It’s been wonderful to meet people at these events.  My mum’s teddy, Nuncy Eddy, has been on several adventures with me and has been much admired. 

Already, it's half way through March.  I can't believe how quickly the time is passing.  I've been in my new workshop since January and it's gradually got warmer and lighter as the season has brightened.  I've been keeping an eye on the hedgerows and banks burst into life on the farm that my workshop is on and in the village.  The nights are getting lighter and I've thrown open the big shutters of the workshop that allow sunshine to flood into the kitchen and lift the spirits.  

I've learnt a lot since I've arrived in January.  Lots of little things, like salt pigs prefer to dry out on wood, not granite, otherwise they succumb to cracks.  Some big things like the realisation that I love working for myself and setting my own timetable and goals.  Also, I've been shown just how supportive my friends and family are by listening to me talking about pottery... again... and giving me such great encouragement and feedback that this adventure has never felt difficult.