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Want to know what Nasocarpia is?

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November view

Sometimes, when having to make a great physical effort, it helps to have a mantra echoing in your head. Rutile is a good word to pronounce, like, say, elbow or helicopter. The sort of word that comes into your head for no apparent reason when you’re trudging up Bradlow Hill. Anything to take your mind off the increasingly challenging gradient and the pain in your lungs.

Shallow roots

When I finally made it into Frith Wood I saw a fallen tree. I was surprised at how shallow its roots seemed. I suspected that this is due to the trees being tightly packed in a small area and thus competing for light by concentrating on shooting up as high as possible and not wasting time with root depth. But a little research showed that when life gets tough, the roots take the easy option, staying close to the surface and spreading out a long way from the tree. A common misconception is that the root system is a mirror image of the trunk and branches. It turns out a tree’s root system is surprisingly shallow, dominated by long, lateral roots spreading out close to the soil surface and outwards and beyond the branch spread. So, trees are much like us – given to taking the easy option.

Oyster mushroom

The trunks of older trees were hosts to all sorts of fungi, and here’s an image of an oyster mushroom. Mushrooms do not have roots; they have mycelium— a root system that is a mass of filaments called hyphae. I expect you know that. These web-like structures spread into the substrate the fungus is growing on – wood, soil, dead squirrels or compost, and the purpose of the mycelium is to find food sources and collect nutrients for the final creation of its bloom or flower: the mushroom.

Large rutile serving dish (50 cms diam)

There was a reason for the word rutile popping into my head during the hill climb. Rutile (its name is derived from the Latin rutilus meaning “shining, golden-red”) is an oxide mineral composed of titanium dioxide which produces many surprising effects in glazes during cooling in the kiln and is used to enhance the surface character of ceramics.

Rutile spot vase

In other words, you do not know exactly what you’re going to get when you open the kiln, specially if you pour an iron oxide glaze over a bisque surface that has been painted with rutile – it’s all in the lap of the God of Pottery, Khnum, who was depicted by the ancient Egyptians with a ram’s head. He was the creator of the bodies of human children which he made at a potter’s wheel, from clay, and placed in their mothers’ womb. His title was the “Divine Potter”.

Small rutile signal vase

Back to the subject of roots and uprooting, it’s sad saying goodbye to an old friend, specially one that has worked hard in the studio over the years, but the advantages of the new style of pugmill outweigh Thelonious’s steady workhorse qualities and he is shortly going to make way for his replacement.

Thelonious – uprooted

Needless to say, it was difficult breaking the news to him and he is refusing to speak to me (as are Ziggy and Spiro) and goes around the studio with a deeply hurt look. “You’re certainly no Divine Potter”, I heard him mutter under his breath. The indignity of being sold on Ebay was also mentioned. Even the promise of a farewell party has been shrugged off with a sigh, despite the complexities involved in finding exactly the right delicacies for my strange little team: goat yoghurt, spiders and engine oil. I suspect Shimpo, the new pugmill, will be just as fastidious and will only contemplate cheeseburgers (he was born in the USA).

Shimpo – the Jimmy Cagney of pugmills

And cheeseburgers were part of the reason I drove all the way to Stoke-on-Trent, cradle of pottery in the UK. I was there to inspect and then buy Shimpo and bring him back, with the reward of a cheeseburger at one of the motorway service stations on the way back. Somehow, they taste better in a car park when you’re sitting in the car listening to the radio – there’s something vaguely illicit about it if you are not a regular burger eater.

Large rutile planter

I shall miss Thelonious and his whimsical nature. Shimpo, I can tell, is more the James Cagney of pugmills – robust, stocky, slightly aggressive, and “no nonsense”.  He just wants to get down to work, with no pussy-footing – I just hope he gets along with the others.

And finally, a plea to you all. Just as a burger is nothing unless it is eaten, a ceramic cup meaningless unless drunk from, or a song unless heard, so a story unless somebody reads it. If you have ten minutes to spare (and the inclination) please read my short story published online.

Illustrator: Evgenia Barsheva

 It is called A Summary of A Brief History of Nasocarpia, the links with Grietta Ingar and the epidemic of 2049. It is published by Lazuli Literary Group who promote otherworld realism: a genre that represents the known, often mundane world in an elevated or defamiliarizing way through the use of linguistic craft, innovative language, or experimental structure. CLICK HERE.

Ceramics – Form or Function

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St John’s Wood in London. Most people think of Lord’s Cricket ground and long sunny evenings watching a game and sipping beer, or perhaps a stroll through beautiful Regent’s Park. Others conjure up the image of the Beatles on the now famous zebra crossing  outside Abbey Road studios – those old enough will remember the mystery surrounding the image and  the rumours of Paul’s death; after all, why else would he be barefoot, and doesn’t George represent  the carpenter who made the coffin, John the religious figure conducting the ceremony, Ringo the undertaker?  However, I mention it because like all zebra crossings, it is black and white, and thus a clumsy introduction to my theme. Bear with me.

I still do not know for sure whether those of you who buy Peter Arscott Ceramics (PAC) do so because you want a vase in the house to put flowers in, or whether you just want the piece because it’s a particular colour and shape you find attractive, or eye-catching, its use as a vase thus being secondary. I suspect it is the latter.

Monochrome vase at Cecilia Colman Gallery

All this head-scratching comes from one piece which a lot of people do not like, while others do. For starters it is unlike the typical PAC piece in that it’s black and white, and its shape or form does not seek a harmonious balance in the whole, but rather rejects it. All of which makes it sound like sculpture, which it is not – it’s still a vase.

Monochrome vase, verso.

As you probably already know, at PAC each piece is made by hand, each piece is a unique one-off since nothing is made twice, nor is function strictly observed – the pot or vase is seen as a form you can play with, PAC having moved away from the potter’s wheel to focus on hand-built forms, as this technique allows much more freedom for expression.

Vine vase at Cecilai Colman Gallery

Some of the pieces have a singular lop-sided stance; improvisation takes place either in cutting out the rolled clay shapes, or later when painting oxides onto their surfaces. The approach to clay is that of a painter’s, and the forms arrived at often work as sculptures or as shaped surfaces with paintings. In other words, its function as a vase is secondary when being made.

Frond vase at Cecilia Colman Gallery

Now, if you want something to perform a function, you want it to perform well. If it doesn’t, you’re probably going to stop using it or ask for your money back, no matter how good it looks. This has yet to be a problem at PAC – never has a vase been returned because it hasn’t functioned as a vase. However, if you hate the way a product looks, you’re less likely to buy it in the first place.

Vase 54 at Cecilia Colman Gallerey

The main distinction between art and design is that design must have a purpose. Art can have no other reason for existing other than to be to viewed, say, or experienced (probably contentious, but some of you will let me know). However, design requires a function. If the design is visually striking, then it may also be dipping its toes in the ocean of art, because often art and design overlap. However, without function, it’s just form – it’s not design but art.

Dave as flower pot

Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. Your eyes tell you whether you like it or not – and that is that. So, if you are in London, go to Cecilia Colman’s gallery and test your eyes. Cecilia is showing some PAC ceramics, including the much maligned monochrome piece. See what you think. You could combine it with a visit to Regent’s Park Zoo, or a nice meal out at one of the restaurants on St John’s Wood High Street (nearest underground station is St John’s Wood).

Ming Dynasty, Jiajing: 1522 – 1666

Of course, you will know if a piece is a genuine Peter Arscott Ceramic by the stamp on the bottom of each piece. Stamps are important for dating and authenticating ceramics. The one above belongs to the time of Jiajing’s reign, a man infatuated with women, known to be a cruel emperor who lived in isolation while ignoring state affairs. This eventually led to corruption at all levels of the Ming government, and to a plot by his concubines to assassinate him in 1542, by strangling him while he slept. Sadly, the plot failed and all of the concubines were executed.

Peter Arscott Ceramics, 2022,

The next stamp above is of the early 21st century, probably during the reign of Jon Son, a man who survived many plots, and belongs to a small ceramic workshop based in Herefordshire that produced rare, unique and now much sought-after vases in stoneware.

Cecilia Colman gallery – over 40 years of experience

Having mentioned The Beatles, it is only fair to finish with The Rolling Stones whose 1965 song “Play with Fire” contains the following lyrics:

Your mother she’s an heiress, owns a block in Saint John’s Wood
And your father’d be there with her
If he only could

Click here to hear them sing it.

December, happy outcomes

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wintry

Strange things have been happening at the studio lately. Unexplained disappearances of ceramics, unfamiliar sounds coming from the ceiling, doors being left wide open at night and the kiln not firing on all cylinders. I decided to go for a walk up the hill to Frith Wood to blow away the cobwebs.

Storm Arwen

It was the usual steep climb up to Bradlow Knoll. The view was bathed in a wintry half-light but there was no wind as there had been these last few days with Storms Arwen and Barra which managed to blow a few trees down along the path deep in the wood. Barra (fair-headed) is named by Irish weather forecaster Met Éireann. Arwen is Welsh Celtic for “good”. The next one will be named Corrie, then Dudley, Eunice, Franklin, Gladys, and so on, according to a “name a storm’ project open to the public. What they all have in common is an ability to blow down trees and embarrass the big energy companies.

Fatball Slim

The only noticeable activity in the woods were the squirrels chasing each other up and down trees. One of their cousins lives in our garden and has been caught eating the fatball left out for the bluetits, but here in the Frith they seem to feed mainly on chestnuts. But I was too concerned with the studio to take in the flora and fauna.

I believe that I was so burdened by these thoughts that I went to bed that night and muttered the magical words that all potters do when they seek help; “hydrous aluminium phyllosilicates.” I fell into a deep sleep but awoke when I felt the presence of someone else in the room. It was, of course, St Spyridon, patron saint of potters, former shepherd and Bishop of Trymithous (c. 270 – 348), responsible for marketing at Peter Arscott Ceramics, who you may remember from a previous blog (passim December 2020).

Marketing strategy meeting

I knew it was him from the strange shepherd’s woven straw hat and the smell of sheep.

“This better be good”, he said, “you do realize I’m only for emergencies, don’t you?’

I nodded and told him about my worries. He rolled his eyes in a “seen it all before” way and took a cigarette out of a pouch and lit it, inhaling deeply.

“You don’t mind, do you? I really needed one after what I’ve just been through – a game of poker with Freud, Mohamed Ali and Mother Teresa, and they were fleecing me. Lucky you summoned me.”

Cecilia Colman, London

He blew the smoke up towards the ceiling, and continued:

“All your problems will be sorted by tomorrow. They are of little consequence compared with your pathetic marketing strategy however, which, despite my best advice, I see you have ignored.”

“The blog is still a little text-heavy,” I admitted.

“The more images, the lighter the blog. Vision trumps all senses; the human brain can process entire images in as little as 13 milliseconds.”

Taken aback as ever by the modern approach of this two thousand year-old holy man, I could only shrug and ask:

“So, how are things up in… Heaven, or wherever it you dead go to?”

“Fine, thank you. I’ve joined a club since I last saw you. It’s one for patron saints only, quite exclusive. We meet and swap stories. Why, last time St Blaise was telling us how he became patron saint of those with throat troubles after he cured a child who was choking on a fish bone.”

“Interesting. Anyway, you say the kiln will fire OK tomorrow?”

“Well, you might have to get an electrician for that.”

“Oh, I hoped you’d just snap your fingers and fix it.”

“I’m not a magician, you know, I’m a patron saint.”

“I’m disappointed.”

“I can get St Eligius to recommend one.”

“Who’s he then?”

“St Eligius? He’s the patron saint of electricians.’

“OK. Thank you. By the way, are you coming to the company Christmas party?”

“Er, no, I can’t. I’d be breaking the rules.”

“Covid?”

“No. We can only appear directly to one earthling at a time.’

“Ah,” I said, “but the other two guests will be Thelonious, who is the pottery pugmill, and Ziggy, who is the studio spider in charge of security, so strictly speaking …”

“Sorry, a spider is still an earthling.’

“OK.”

“I must go now. We’re putting on a Christmas panto and there’s a rehearsal.  Socrates will be surprisingly good as Aladdin, you know, and James Dean is playing Wishee Washee and John Wayne is Widow Twankey.”

Before I could ask him what part he was playing, he disappeared.

In the morning I had to face the inevitable accusations from my wife of smoking in bed and allowing sheep into the house, but as I entered the studio, I saw that the squirrel was running along its roof, which explained the unfamiliar sounds coming from the ceiling, and when I turned the handle of the door, I saw the latch was stuck, which explained the door always being open.

lost but now found vase

I went to the shed to get a screwdriver and saw in the shadowy depths along the bottom shelf all the “missing” ceramics that I had stored away and then forgotten during the Covid stockpiling. And when I opened the kiln to see the result of a glaze firing, I saw that everything was back to normal, the clock on my digital radio flashing away telling me that there had been a power cut which had gone unnoticed by me, which is why that previous firing had been a disaster. Good old Spyro – always right, in the end.

Happily just out of the kiln

One of the vases that came out of the kiln has some cheery colours that chime with the seasonal good wishes. By now in a celebratory mood, and in honour of St Spyro, I decided to do some serious research into a cocktail that might do the same.

a St Spyros – save the olive till last

To start with you need a bottle of Mastic Tears, a liqueur made from mastiha trees near Olympoi village, one of the mastic villages, on the island of Chios. It was given to me by my niece’s Greek partner, and I accept that not everyone has a bottle in their cellar. A generous slug in a tumbler, a smaller slug of sugar syrup, ice, some soda, a dash of orange bitters, a sprig of thyme and a black olive. I’m calling it a St Spyros. It’s quite interesting. The olive is particularly good at the end.

 

Peter Arscott Ceramics wish you all a happy Christmas. And If you live in or near Worcester, London, Chichester, Hove, Lymington or Cambridge and you are looking for that original gift, then why not drop in at the galleries whose names caption the ceramic images scattered throughout this blog?

Thelonious the Pugmill

Ziggy, Head of Security

Cheers. Here’s looking forward to 2022, and hoping it surprises us by bringing pleasure, gladness and delight. After all, the number 22 indicates that your angels have your back and are ready to help you in whatever way they can (apparently it is an “Angel Number”).

kalá Christoúgenna

 

Arscott ceramics in Cambridge

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King’s College, Cambridge

It strikes me that delivering ceramics is one way to get to know your country. If last time it was a trip to St Ives through the Cornish landscape and the pleasure of seeing those beautiful pieces at the St Ives Ceramics gallery on Fish Street, this time Cambridge called for an easterly road trip via Worcestershire, Warwickshire and Northamptonshire through low-lying but fertile agricultural countryside criss-crossed by hedgerows and lines of trees, ditches and canals, and, frankly, quite a lot of traffic

local transport

But once in the city of Cambridge traffic is strictly controlled in the very centre and deliveries must be made before 9am before automatic bollards rise out of the road and trap the unsuspecting driver. Most students whizz around on bikes – it’s not cars the pedestrian needs top look out for, though Cambridge Contemporary Art, which is where the ceramics were heading, is on a quiet street right in the heart of the university city.

The gallery is light and airy, and the team who run it very bright and welcoming. It stands on Trinity Street opposite Gonville and Caius College, and specialises in handmade ceramics, prints, paintings and sculpture and have gained a reputation for their extensive range of high quality work and innovative exhibitions of local, national and international artists.

cambridge contemporary art

Peter Arscott’s ceramics will be part of a mixed exhibition running from 23rd June to 2nd September. If you happen to be in the area make sure to drop in and use the visit as an excuse to see one or two other Cambridge highlights such as the Fitzwilliam Museum, one of the greatest art collections in the UK. It owes its foundation to Viscount Fitzwilliam of Merrion who, in 1816, bequeathed to the University of Cambridge his works of art and library, together with funds to house them, to further “the Increase of Learning and other great Objects of that Noble Foundation”.

Merete Rasmussen – blue twisted form. Hand built stoneware. Fitzwilliam Museum

At the time of writing there is an inspiring exhibition of ceramics called Things of Beauty Growing showcasing the practice of the art form in the UK today, tracing the changing nature of British studio pottery through the evolution of specific types of vessel: the moon jar, vase and bowl. Photography is not permitted in this section, but I took some photos of the ceramics show in the main room on the ground floor to whet your appetites.

Rupert Spira – bowl (thrown stoneware) at Fitzwilliam Museum

In another part of the museum is a contemporary project by Matt Smith called “Flux” which uses ceramics as a way to ask questions about our history and why museums celebrate lives of some people and ignore others. He uses Parian busts from the Victorian era of widely-celebrated colonialists and adventurers to challenge our traditional readings of their achievements. Parian pottery is designed to look shiny like marble and was developed by the Staffordshire pottery Mintons in 1845.

Matt Smith’s Flux: Parian unpacked. Fitzwilliam Museum

One wall is covered by wall paper designed with illustrations from the life of General Gordon of Khartoum meeting his fate in the hands of the Mahdi’s army he was sent to subjugate, his heroic bust set in the centre. Those of you of a certain age will remember that his part was played by Charlton Heston in the film “Khartoum”, and Lawrence Olivier played the Mahdi.

Gordon of Khartoum meets his fate

Lawrence and Charlton

As I wandered from one wonderful room to another my eye was caught by a painting by the great El Greco in the 1590 – a typical late work with extremely free brushwork and blurred facial features which still looks fresh and contemporary after 400 years

El Greco’s St John the Evangelist – detail. Fitzwilliam museum

By the way, the Fitzwilliam building itself is grand and imposing, and was designed by George Basevi (1794-1845) and completed after his death by C R Cockerell. Poor George died accidentally falling from the Bell tower of Ely Cathedral while inspecting repairs.

Walking back to the city centre you will go past the imposing façade of King’s College whose students include not only Rupert Brooke, Salman Rushdie, Zadie Smith and John Maynard Keynes but also Sir John Harrington whose New Discourse describes a forerunner to the modern flush toilet that was installed at his house at Kelston in the late 16th century. It’s the functional as well as the beautiful that help change our world for the better.

Sir John Harrington’s legacy at Kettle’s Yard

Which leads me neatly to the bathroom at Kettle’s Yard, a house open to the public since Jim Ede gave it and its art collection to the University as ‘a living place where works of art could be enjoyed… where young people could be at home unhampered by the greater austerity of the museum or public art gallery.’ Here you can look at work by artists such as David Jones, Ben Nicolson and others, all of them friends of Ede’s (who had been curator at the Tate Gallery) in relaxed domestic surroundings, even in the loo.

the calm interior at Kettle’s Yard

By now your thoughts will be turning to other things: perhaps a punt on the River Cam or a visit to one of the colleges, or a cycle ride, or a walk over the Bridge of Sighs, or a Pink Floyd tour to see the childhood homes of band members, Roger Waters, David Gilmour and Syd Barrett?

punts waiting on the Cam

This visitor just sat at a café and watched the people go by – school parties, animated university students, bemused tourists, thoughtful academics, and a fat dog that sat at a bus stop opposite and looked at people meaningfully. There was no sign of people hanging on in quiet desperation (yes, another one for the oldies) or of any student debauchery, as spotted at the Fitzwilliam in a painting by Breughel the younger called A Village Festival.

16th Century debauchery

Returning to Herefordshire it was pleasing to see that the CUP ceramics project has surpassed the crowdfunding target’s halfway mark (see previous blog). If any of you are still interested please visit the website and see what is on offer and help make it happen: https://www.cupceramics.com/

come and see me at cambridge contemporary art