Landscape – Page 22 – Bridget Macklin

Well, if you talk like that, of course you can’t!

Weeks and weeks of apparent brain ache are about to be over. I have the distinct feeling that part of my problem since the beginning of this final semester has been my attitude to my tutors. I had practically made up my mind – and so, I think had they – that the road to the decision on what to make for the final work was likely to be fairly tortuous and so, as is the nature of a self fulfilling prophesy, it has proved to be just that! All the time, the answer has actually been staring me in the face. I have been gaily making and making but I have made the fundamental error of telling my tutors that I didn’t know what I was doing. I really should know better! I know perfectly well from being on the “other side of the desk”, as a teacher for many years, that if a child says they don’t get it or cant do it, they don’t! They cant! And the teacher believes them! But if you say to a child ‘yes, you can, I know you can’, they find that it is suddenly so much easier than they thought. Its all about attitude. Because my tutors have been asking me things such as ‘So are we going to have the same tortuous route as usual?’ that is precisely what I have been presenting them with. Timely reminder to self – never, ever, for any reason, be negative with a child who is vulnerable – it will end in tears!

So, just in case anyone is the least bit interested in the aching of my potty mind, I am creating an eclectic range of work for the final show. It is based loosely on my love of Cornwall and my fascination with relationships within and between objects and people. I have not decided yet how it will be exhibited, that will depend on how it speaks to me as the body of work develops. I shall use local materials, mud larking finds and natural glaze materials. I shall make and then abuse moulds and my work will reflect my thoughts. The way it develops will depend on how I am feeling and the ideas that strike me and, no, I am not the least bit concerned that nothing is finished yet – the best is clearly yet to come.

Every time I finish a good book I find that I need a period of mourning before I can begin another one. Sometimes it lasts for weeks and I find myself feeling completely indifferent to the idea of picking up another one, unless it happens to be relate to the one that I have just read. At long last I have realised that this is what happens when I finish a project in ceramics too. There is a period when I cannot make – don’t even want to make – anything for the next project. I feel stuck! In this particular case I have now spent a couple of weeks observing my fellow students getting cracking on their next ideas with envy. My tutors tell me that it ought to be clear to me which way my work is going, my colleagues seem to think it is pretty obvious too. I am in little doubt either, I just don’t really want to get going. I need to work this thing through. It is like waiting for a train during a rail strike. I know one will turn up eventually but I have no idea when and I am utterly aware that it might not even be going my way when it does roll in. This feeling sets off a sensation of considerable restlessness within me. I want to get going but I can’t start. I am missing the comfort of the last project and yearning for something to get my teeth into but I cannot decide what. I feel unsettled and turbulent. I guess that the unpredictability of almost everything else in my life does not help but I would like to think that would encourage me to immerse myself in my ceramics. Instead of which my heart and lungs have had the benefit – I walked all the way round Richmond Park yesterday; the larder has benefitted – there are 26 jars of marmalade cooling in the kitchen as I write; the garden has benefitted – the Rambling Rector is much reduced in size, the neighbours can see out again, the flower beds are almost tidy and I can see where the gaps that need filling are because the dead stuff from last summer has finally made it to the green bin!

028 — A lovely Irishman gave me this clay.

I have not been completely idle from a ceramics point of view. I know that my ‘grungy work’ is never going to be permitted to sit quietly on a shelf in any kiln at college so I have thrown a huge saggar to fire all my work in, I have also begun to experiment with some clay which I found in Cornwall over the New Year. It came out of the ground a delicious ochre colour with great plasticity so imagine my surprise and delight when I fired a piece to discover that it doesn’t melt at stoneware, rather it goes a rich red/brown and self-glazes. I couldn’t believe my luck – the perfect clay???? Then I walked past a group of labourers on Kingsway who were loading clay from a foundation which they were digging into a skip. I stopped and asked if I could have some of it and after some slightly strange looks a gorgeous young Irishman gave me as much clay as I could carry and a bag to put it in! Grunge work coming up soon I hope . . . . . .

Wonderfully evocative work by Fred Gatley

I have also been looking at other artists who use found clay in their work. I love the way that Fred Gatley uses clay from Deptford Creek to create evocative landscape pieces. His simple use of a plinth and a contrasting bowl is incredibly effective. Here he describes his method of working for an exhibition at the gallery Bils and Rye in Yorkshire:

“Within each piece, I strive to achieve a balance of form, scale, structure and texture, producing work that has an understated visual richness set against a feeling of quiet simplicity.” http://www.bilsandrye.com/

And of course, the doyenne of found objects in ceramics was Gilliam Lowndes. What can one say about her gorgeous piece, Cup On Base except ‘Wow!’

Tag Archives: Landscape

Its Right In Front of You, Stoopid!

Moving on . . .