Ceramic Art London 2010

I took a spontaneous day trip to London on Friday to see this year’s Ceramic Art London show at the Royal College of Art. Last time I went to the show was back in 2008, which was the first year I’d heard of it. I suspect not many more people have heard of it either or since! It seems only the die-hard ceramic fans know about it; either through word-of-mouth or through quarter-page advertisements in Ceramic Review. So a select group then (…) Part of me thinks it’s a shame that it isn’t a massive event with loads of publicity. Pots pots pots! Come and look at lovely pots! But another part enjoys the fact that you can wander around the stands without feeling crushed or under pressure and instead properly SEE stuff.

For a London show it's a good, manageable event, size wise: this year I counted 77 stands around the floor plan, so it doesn’t feel like a never-ending chore of stand-after-stand. Instead you can do several in-depth circuits and have a good look at everything. And perhaps because it’s attached to the college (or perhaps because it’s full of potters) it doesn’t feel like it’s only about The Sell either. Some Art/Craft shows held in London do feel a bit like this: Origin for instance (currently held in Somerset House in autumn) is a lovely show, but has the air of being a showcase for selling only. Ceramic Art London on the other hand is like a secret club of ceramic makers, experts, collectors and pure fanatics: not only can you buy the most gorgeous stuff from some of the biggest names in British contemporary ceramics, but you can also ask them questions. Or at least, that’s what I did! So I came away with some wonderful tips and suggestions from several makers (especially from the lovely David Frith - no less!) all of whom were very happy to share and not in the least bit possessive or precious about their ‘methods’.

Downstairs at the show is the self-service canteen which during normal college hours serves the students as cafeteria. And just before the canteen is the make-shift ceramic bookshop full of lovely books on ceramics. I was tempted by at least three books but eventually resisted (owing to lack of funds). This year though they also had a small display of pottery tools for sale: so I treated myself to a nice new slip trailer and an extra long sponge-on-a-stick (these being more immediately useful than a £30 book!) And finally I bought myself a mug from Lisa Hammond’s stand as a little personal treat – it was only £16, gorgeous and (again) immediately practical of course.

And that was Friday. A very nice day out! Lots of inspiration, ideas and tips - and also a new ‘wish list’ of books which I thought I’d make links to from here, for future reference…

British Studio Ceramics - Paul Rice

Oriental Glazes - Michael Bailey

Lucie Rie - Tony Birks

The Glaze Book... - Stephen Murffit

And you can visit the Ceramic Art London site here:

Victoria and Albert Museum London

(A view of the dome inside the new Ceramics Gallery at the V&A. Click on the image and it should enlarge to show the installation of ceramics in porcelain called Signs and Wonders by Edmund de Waal.)

Last Wednesday I took a day trip to London to visit the new Ceramics Gallery at the V&A (Victoria and Albert Museum). The new gallery opened a few weeks ago as phase one of an ongoing refurbishment program which started back in 2005. Another section of the new Ceramics Gallery is planned to open next year. But who can wait till then?! So I thought, what better way to spend a day than looking at lots of lovely pots housed in their brand new home?

On arrival at the main entrance to the V&A, don’t be surprised if the new Ceramics Gallery has no sign posts pointing the way. I admit it was a little surprising to me considering the large advertisement pasted onto the refurbishment hoardings along the outside of the building encouraging me to come in and visit. But this trifling matter of signage can’t stop a potter finding pots! So if you plan to visit, here’s your route:-

Currently the only access to the new galleries is a small lift/elevator hidden away to your left as you enter through the main entrance. It’s a tiny lift that doesn’t even feel like it’s supposed to be open to the public. But it is the only way to get to level six which is where the new galleries live - don’t expect to casually stumble across them as you wander around the rest of the museum! (The V&A has a floor plan rather like an Escher print where the levels don’t necessarily connect.)

First impressions as you enter the new galleries is a very clean, white, modern display. In fact I think they’ve done an excellent job of making the rooms feel light and simple without being stark. The cabinets are big, filling all the wall spaces and are absolutely stuffed full of pots – especially in the first couple of rooms. Now I assume this is simply because the galleries are in transition and eventually the pots will be spread out: in fact as you walk through to the later rooms the displays seem more finished or finalized. Initially though it was a bit overwhelming and most of the time I couldn’t see any single pot for all the lovely distracting pots huddled around it!

I probably spent an hour walking around – but it really isn’t time enough to absorb in detail. As for reading the captions, I’m afraid I cheated and started to photograph them to read later. Visits to museums are always plagued by tired legs and thoughts of catching trains home, and caption reading feels like a waste of ‘seeing’ time! Much better to remember the image of a pot than try to recall the date it was made, in what province and under which dynasty. That’s the sort of information best absorbed while sitting on a sofa reading a book. And as for the videos – I didn’t even start on those…

I suppose the cabinet I spent most time looking at wasn’t full of pots at all, but actually full of lots of tools, equipment and furniture that once belonged to the studio potter Lucie Rie. The cabinet is a reconstruction of a corner of Lucie Rie’s workshop and contains the items she used – including two kick wheels – as they were found in her studio after her death. It sounds like a cheap gimmick and could have been a disaster, but I think they’ve managed to do it tastefully and respectfully and without it looking staged. In fact it looked like the perfect place to make a pot. Simple, functional and quietly elegant. As I looked at all the little personalized turning tools stuck vertically to a magnetic strip just within handy reach above the wheel-head, I admit I felt a tad envious. It probably didn’t help to realize the dimensions of the cabinet itself were actually larger than my own little studio back home! C’est la vie…