Harry discusses Suffolk life and the potter’s wheel with ceramicist and architect Vicky Thornton.
Harry: First of all, I’d like to ask how practising as an architect has informed your pottery – and vice versa
Vicky: I’d say they inform each other. Buildings are like pots, where the forms and the spaces between them create the whole. The still lives of Italian artist Giorgio Morandi embody this idea perfectly.
Of course, the immediacy and hands-on nature of pottery is a brilliant antidote to the relatively slow process of creating buildings. As an architect, I generally work on large-scale projects that can take years to come out of the ground. As a potter, I can envisage a form in my mind and shape it into being almost instantaneously, certainly within a relatively short period of time. The clay-to-pot process takes weeks, while the pen-to-building process takes years.
But I also like the fact that pottery – like architecture – is a staged process. There’s enough time involved so that you can apply care, thought and craft to it. Most of my work involves a minimum of two glazes, so with throwing, turning, glazing and curing and at least two firings. So that’s quite a number of processes, which typically take place over the course of a few days – part of the longer process of filling a kiln.
In terms of my pottery informing my architecture, I’d say that the work I do with colour – the sensibility of the colour – is what gets transferred most into the buildings and spaces I design.
Harry: How long have you been a potter?
Vicky: It all started about 30 years ago with an evening class at Harrow and Westminster Adult Education Centre. I did that for a couple of years then started sharing a studio with a group of other potters. Now I’m fortunate enough to have my own studio within my home.
Harry: And what inspires your work?
Vicky: Mostly just everyday life. I might spot something intriguing at the supermarket, or in a shop, or I’ll be waiting at the bus stop and see someone wearing an interesting colour. Equally, it could be a painting or an object at a museum. There’s a certain synergy between architecture, life and ceramics that I really enjoy.
But I do also find particular inspiration in mid-century design, including textiles. Specifically, I’m inspired by the work of mid-century potters who were interested in simplicity of form – like Lucie Rie – as well as the tactility and colours of historic Japanese stoneware.
Harry: Can you describe your current collection?
Vicky: I’d say my whole output is an ever-evolving collection, with a simple yet strong aesthetic running through it. I might focus on a specific function for a while – plates, jugs or bowls – but then I’ll work on developing a new glaze, so I’ll introduce a new colour in harmony with what’s gone before.
I almost always work in stoneware because I like the paleness of the clay, as well as the subtle textural qualities that you don’t get with porcelain. The forms I create are simple and eloquent: suggestive of use but not function-led. There’s usually a quirky element like a noticeably fine handle or a small beak-like spout. I make my own glazes and a recurrent colour theme of mine is a shade of yellow prevalent in the 1950s, often called chartreuse. It’s a strong yellow with a hint of black, giving an almost greenish appearance.
Harry: What’s your favourite spot in Suffolk?
Vicky: I have to say that it’s where I live, by the coast near Felixstowe. I find being by the sea incredibly freeing and I love the movement, the colour, the sound. I like being at the edge of things, and Felixstowe Ferry is a road to nowhere, unless you count the foot passenger ferry across the River Deben to Bawdsey, which only runs for six months of the year. As you have to decide to go to Felixstowe Ferry by car, you’re never en route to somewhere else.
I love walking along the sea wall too. In places it’s just a path, elsewhere it’s built-up flood defence. It ends up at the splendidly isolated Landguard Point and its mid-18th century fort. On the way you pass golf courses, beach huts and all the wonderful English ordinariness of Felixstowe town centre.