What is “Studio Pottery” ?
Hollowed out, clay makes a pot. Where the pot's not is where it's useful. — Lao Tsu, Tao Te Ching
A pot is a pretty clever trick. As if by sleight of hand, some earth is drawn up and around itself, creating a hollow form that can bring water home, or contain a nourishing soup. Beginning in the Neolithic Period (the “Late Stone Age”), this magical idea was discovered by many different cultures across the globe. Pottery helped our ancestors carry water, cook and preserve food, and control the natural process of fermentation. Human culture is built on clay, literally; the ancient cities of the Fertile Crescent rose above the plains on mounds of broken shards. It’s no wonder that cultures that no longer depend on clay pots for survival still create and keep them, as symbols of survival and abundance.
It’s also no wonder that the simple clay vessel has been elevated to an object of art: a thing that, though still perhaps useful, is valued for its craftsmanship and beauty. Virtually every culture that has mastered pottery-making has taken it to this next level. One thinks of the oddly modern-looking Jomon pottery of Neolithic Japan. The charming figural Chimu pottery of Peru. The stylized black-and-white pots the Anasazi. The list goes on and on.
A Neolithic Jomon vessel from Japan
In some parts of the world, vernacular pottery traditions have persisted into modern times. This was especially true of Japan. A reverence for simple, hand-made things is endemic to Japanese culture, and Japan has made an effort to preserve folk skills, even while leading the world in technological innovation. Some pottery-making villages have maintained their traditional ways of throwing, firing, and glazing for hundreds of years. Japanese master potters, though obliged to honor these old ways, have also had latitude to experiment, and develop new ideas. It’s possible that we owe the idea of “studio pottery” to Japan.
A pivotal moment in the development of modern studio pottery came in 1909, when the young British artist Bernard Leach (1887 –1979) arrived in Japan to teach etching techniques. Leach became enamored with traditional Japanese (as well as Korean and Chinese) pottery, and began to study under Urano Shigekichi 浦野繁吉 (1851–1923), who represented a regional tradition dating to the 17th century. Leach was soon approached by the ambitious young potter Shōji Hamada 濱田 庄司 (1894 – 1978), and the two began a fertile collaboration. Together, they traveled to England and established a pottery at the nascent “Guild of Handicrafts” in St Ives, Cornwall. Leach promoted East Asian ceramic techniques, as well as the philosophical ideas behind them. In his own work, he combined these ideas with European traditions, such as salt glazing and slipware. In 1940, he published A Potter's Book, which went into many editions and was foundational to the modern studio pottery movement. Leach championed what he called “ethical pots” (versus “fine art pots”), by which he meant pottery whose beauty derives from simplicity, and usefulness. His ideas were influential to both the rustic counter-culture potters of the 1960s, and to more refined, mid-century Modernist studio potters.
Bernard Leach at work in his studio
For his part, Shōji Hamada returned to Japan in 1923 and settled in Mashiko, Tochigi Prefecture. He built a pottery and devoted himself to using only indigenous clay and glazes, taking on numerous apprentices, including many from the West. Along with fellow potter Kawai Kanjirō 河井 寬次郎 and the writer Yanagi Sōetsu 柳 宗悦, Hamada developed the concept of mingei (民芸), which roughly translates as "folk art." Their idea was to honor and preserve Japanese vernacular crafts, and it worked. In 1955 Hamada himself was designated as a "Living National Treasure" by the Japanese government— the first “craftsman” so honored.
Shōji Hamada
Another potter whose career exemplifies the international nature of studio pottery is Marguerite Wildenhain (1896 – 1985). She was born in France, to a British mother and a German Jewish father. At age 18, she started work in a porcelain factory, and fell in love with the wheel. One day in 1919, while riding her bike in the countryside, Marguerite happened upon a poster announcing a new school, to be called the Bauhaus. It would be "a new guild of craftsmen without the class distinctions which raise an arrogant barrier between craftsmen and artists." At the Bauhaus, Wildenhain worked with some of the greatest designers of the early 20th century; in 1925, she became the first woman honored as a German Master Potter. She went on to teach at the Burg Giebichenstein University of Art and Design, while also designing commercial ceramics. When the Nazis came into power, Wildenhain and her husband fled to the Netherlands, where they opened a pottery they called shop called Het Kruikje (“The Little Jug”). In 1940 she had to flee the Nazis yet again, this time to emigrating to the United States.
Wildenhain briefly took a position at the California College of Arts and Crafts, then in 1942, relocated to the new Pond Farm artist’s colony in rural Sonoma County. High on a hill above the Russian River, she planted a garden, built a house, and repurposed an old barn into her pottery studio. Over the next 40 years, Wildenhain would create an extraordinary body of work here, while also teaching students from around the world. Her students learned to throw on the physically-demanding kick-wheel, and started by making a dog dish! In between sessions, they discussed philosophy, natural history, and how to run a business; many went on to become important potters in their own right. Now part of the Austin Creek State Recreation Area, Wildenhain’s studio has been designated a "National Treasure" by the National Trust for Historic Preservation.
Marguerite Wildenhain at Pond Farm in the 1950s
The development of studio pottery in the United States has a rich history, building on borrowed Old World techniques, as well as indigenous ones. Among the latter is the rich and varied folk pottery of the Southeastern United States. This pottery (mostly made along the Piedmont “fall line” from North Carolina to Georgia), has utilitarian roots, but also a history of whimsical experimentation. Though not strictly in this tradition, George Ohr, the self-proclaimed “Mad Potter of Biloxi,” is a home-grown example of a folk potter who took it to the next level. Though he learned the basics of his craft as an apprentice making utilitarian pottery (like whiskey jugs), he seems to have found his own path to mastery, through constant, even maniacal, experimentation. His outrageously-elaborate, vanishingly-thin, crumpled, and elaborately-glazed vessels are like nothing else. Ahead of his time, Ohr could barely make a living from his pottery, and eventually abandoned the craft; now, his works are among the most valuable American ceramics. A new museum devoted to Ohr, designed by Frank Gehry (appropriately!), recently opened in Biloxi Mississippi.
Vessel by George Ohr, ca. 1897-1900
One of the first practitioners of what we now call studio pottery was Charles Fergus Binns (1857 – 1934) director of the New York State School of Clayworking and Ceramics from from 1900 to 1931. Binns’ books The Story of the Potter (1901) and The Craft of the Potter (1910) were influential in the Arts and Craft (Craftsman) Movement, emphasizing the importance of the individual potter’s genius. Referring to the “art pottery” popular at the time, Binns wrote “no-one with a spark of artistic fire can be content to copy the design of another or to merely add the finishing touches to work begun in a factory.” Among his many protégés were potters Arthur Eugene Baggs, William Victor Bragdon, R. Guy Cowan, Maija Grotell, and Elizabeth Overbeck.
After the disruptions of the Depression and Second World War, studio pottery in the US began to come into its own. The arrival of European ceramicists, such as Grotell, Susi Singer, Gertrude and Otto Natzler, and of course Marguerite Wildenhain, helped, opening a dialog with the burgeoning modern design movement in Europe. Many influential 20th century American potters took up the craft after serving overseas. Minnesota potter Warren MacKenzie (1924 –2018) studied with Bernard Leach in England just after the war. He was deeply influenced by Shōji Hamada as well, and has been credited with bringing the Japanese mingei style of pottery to the Midwest (jokingly dubbed the "Mingei-sota style"). Otto Heino (1915 – 2009) also visited Leach, while on leave from the Air Force. He and his wife Vivika Heino (1910 – 1995) maintained a studio practice together for decades, always signing their work “Otto + Vivika.” The couple also taught ceramics on both coasts, and developed an array of innovative glazing techniques. In 1952, they established “The Pottery” in Ojai, California, where they crafted useful, everyday ceramics, as well as large architectural commissions.
Vivika and Otto Heino at work in the studio
In the late 1960s and early 1970s pottery in the United States experienced an extraordinary boom, due to a resurgence of interest in traditional life-ways, and the do-it-yourself ethos of the young counterculture. Needless to say, vast amounts of mediocre amateur pottery was produced! But there was also some great work made, especially on the West Coast, where traditional Japanese and European styles were given a bit of a psychedelic twist. Peter Voulkos (1924 – 2002), founder of the ceramics departments at both the Los Angeles County Art Institute and at the University of California, Berkeley, brought a rock-star quality to his work, demonstrating his dramatic, even violent, techniques in front of an audience. His student Paul Soldner (1921 – 2011) was also influential in creating what some call the "California School" of ceramics. Soldner’s work is a mash-up of Old World ideas and modern aesthetics, particularly his innovations on Japanese raku technique.
Peter Voulkos, Glendale, CA, ca. 1960
We hope that these brief biographies will help to answer the question: just what is “studio pottery”? Not every hand-made pot with a signature scrawled on the base qualifies. We feel that the term should be reserved for the work of professional potters who have studied their craft (perhaps apprenticing with master potter) and gained a notable level of skill. Hopefully, they will have studied formally, and devoted years to the art and science of ceramics.
