One Slightly Wordy/Lengthy Artist Statement:

It is part of any creatives life that you have to talk about what you do. Why you do it. What inspires you. And though it has always infuriated me that my work is not allowed to stand by itself, reality is that it is the responsibility of anyone who, in a world of finite resources decides to consume materials, to justify their practice. Why does their creation deserve to live? And for me that questioning  fundamentally comes down to who does it help?

Over the years my work has gone through many iterations. But it fundamentally has the same motivations. My artwork, my functional pottery, my teaching and most recently my business exploits, all come from the same desire to help people consider objects, the place of objects in life and their interactions with objects and the affect this has on themselves, their long-term happiness and wider society.

I write this statement with caution though. Through teaching and studying and being a practitioner for some years now, I’ve spent enough time with artists bullshitting the meaning of their work. I derive disappointment from the brutishness of that statement but there’s not a softer way of saying it so truthfully. I would dare to say that the majority of artists work then draws from the longest possible stretches of meaning to justify their work post creation; leaning on heavy political or social issues to try to embody their work with a weightiness and importance. When the truth is that they like making the thing they are making. They may like it in a very simplest manner. It may bring them joy to work on it. Or it might be a sadistic act wherein the time spent making is torturous, but the love is of the accomplishment. Or it may be a cathartic exercise to deal with one’s inner torment. I entirely understand this and sympathise with it having spent many years attempting to enthuse my works with meaning. There was a time when I would do this. I remember once trying to claim that a vending machine full of pots that smashed upon purchase would change the way we thought about the lifecycle of an object. I’m in no way suggesting that I’m not proud of that work, I do think it holds a poignant message and is a good piece of art. I do hope people understand that message and it gets through but I am also a realist. Life brings with it a hard economical truth we all know in our hearts to be true even if we don’t want to admit it.

Convenience and comfort win out over morality. And art, in its purest form, doesn’t change this. (At least for the vast majority of people.)

We all claim to be eco warriors whilst being wasteful. We all wear a badge of morality whilst ordering more products from Amazon because it’s so dam easy.

It’s this slow realisation that…no scratch that….this realisation isn’t slow, I’ve always known it but I’ve not wanted it to be true so I’ve lived my life pretending it isn’t true. Rather it’s a slow acceptance of a truth. Maybe that’s a kind of wisdom that comes with age. Maybe it’s a tragic loss of a childhood innocence. Anyway, it’s this acceptance that has led me my transition from artist to potter and from potter to teacher. At the end of the day, it is always the artist who gains most from any work. Even this statement. It is most likely that I, personally, will gain more from writing it than the reader will from reading it. And that is true for any work. I do hope that you are still able to gain something from my writing and from my artwork. But critically I hope that you consider making as an activity that is open to everyone. I may struggle with the justification of my own making but I will relent that it is through making that I find peace and meaning. In many ways pottery is my undevoted religion. I aim to make pottery that brings joy and hopefully will stand the test of time. But I also aim to make pottery as accessible both as a hobby and a lifestyle to as many people as possible because though it is not an easy path it brings with it a fulfilment and, dare I risk a moment of sincerity, a happiness.