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Appreciating Good Design
A revolution in Irish ceramics is quietly fomenting. Top restaurants from across the world are contacting Irish potters in search of their craft. From porcelain to local clay, we discuss the importance of craft, listing Ireland’s very best and emerging makers.
Design has always been central to my life and living within spaces that feel good is important to me. In my mid-twenties, I recall a friend dropping over to our house, which we had been renting. They acknowledged that the house was nicely furnished but queried if I should have waited until I bought a house to furnish it correctly. Anyone who has an interest in design will find this statement completely absurd but it’s a perspective many adhere to. Although I have no formal training in design, I grew up in a household where design existed in harmony with living. Each object or piece of furniture that cohabits my own space tells a personal story that enriches the environment. Each carries a memory that can’t be purchased at the drop of a hat.
There’s a false perception that to have an affinity for objects is materialistic; that interior design is solely aesthetic. The truth may lie within pleasure — How does design impact me? What effect does this object have on me? Does it give me pleasure? And if so, what sort of degree of pleasure? How is my nature modified by its presence and under its influence? The designer Ilse Crawford observes that “It’s important to design through the senses because we are primal and we read our environment through the senses.” It’s important that the spaces that we live in speak to that. Design not only shapes the spaces that we are using every day but also our experiences in those spaces.
I regularly think about what impact good design has on me in a professional environment too. I would go as far as saying that there is not a day when it does not infiltrate my thoughts. I have wondered at times if it is fickle to feel that I work best in spaces that are made beautifully and ergonomically, subsequently embellished with beautiful things. So, I was astounded by Architect John Pawson’s remark that he finds it hard to design within his home for the fact that it is too beautiful and with too many distractions. Instead, he finds motivation in his basement studio in London, facing a wall! Although this dark environment may be a productive space for Pawson, I am under the assumption that he places himself here once the majority of his creative thoughts have been conceived. For this matter, I am a firm believer that Ilse’s theory translates to our working environment and demonstrates the importance of things like light, materials, space, furniture and objects. These can change our connection with each other, as well as our behaviour.
The world of craft is under threat
A rather affluent family friend once approached me to exclaim their disbelief at how much a handmade Irish knife cost. Despite my efforts to delineate the metrics and cost implications of designing and manufacturing in Ireland, nothing was going to digress their opinion that the knife was ‘expensive.’ A couple of weeks later, I learned that they had installed a personal gym in their garage. The world of craft is under threat. Due to industrialism, handmade craft is no longer a requirement and therefore there are people in this world who have lost the ability to appreciate its power, beyond pure functionality. I recently spoke to a former cabinet maker who became disillusioned by customers undervaluing his work. They would say things like, ‘That’s way overpriced’ or ‘I can buy that in IKEA for a quarter’. As a result, he has moved into a start-up focused on climate change. Although there are many advantages to IKEA: for each new product they create, they build a facility that employs entire communities and therefore have a positive social impact, it’s companies like these that have caused a generational gap in what we own. Not only do we fail to appreciate the craft, but we also no longer possess it. In previous generations, furniture, antiques and objects were passed on. If we do not learn to appreciate craft, what will we have to pass on to our kin? An IKEA kitchen table or a Peloton?
“Isn’t it a weird thought to think about a piece of furniture in a room when you’re not there? If you go travelling for a couple of weeks, you can sometimes think back to home and the first thing that pops into your head might be a chair. Sometimes I can’t wait to return to a chair. Or you can go on imagining what that chair is doing in that room while you’re away… Perhaps that’s what I’m always trying to do – trying to make a piece of furniture that can inhabit your memory a little.” — Max Lamb, Designer.
Pick a cup
“Pottery is place, folded and fired. It is soil, stone, flora, topography, and climate, massaged by human tradition and technique. In Japan, the placeness of ceramics has been taken to an extreme with local variations in style proliferating across the island nation.” Cameron Blain - Eflux Criticism.
My favourite artists at this time are Isamu Noguchi, JB Blunk and Max Lamb. Each dabbles in ceramics but is not strictly defined by it. They allow their work to be led by materials, rather than solely by tradition. The results are often haphazard, full of serendipity and “surprise”. Ceramics are considered a key feature of human material culture. They are connected to both ceremonial and utilitarian rituals that have taken place for thousands of years. For these reasons, I suppose I’ve always had a soft spot and affinity for handmade ceramics. Perhaps it’s that no one piece is entirely the same. I love the physicality with clay and the idea that something has been sourced and crafted from the ground up, often by one pair of hands. It’s a craft that has been passed on and existed through eons, yet like most crafts and traditions, it carries extreme fragility.
Living as a designer and maker gives me great satisfaction, it brings an awareness and appreciation of the work of others. You begin to see the intent of and care taken by other creatives in the world around you. Working with clay is very gratifying, you push and squeeze with your hands. And there it is, made and designed sometimes in the same moment, with no sketch to betray your instinct.” — Stephen O’Connell, Fermoyle Pottery.
I was recently cooking in a beautiful home in Dublin for a friend and discovered a small set of shelves built for and filled with cups. Each vessel was different in appearance, made by a separate Irish maker. Which cup you choose to use that day might depend on your apparent mood, creating differentiation in a daily ritual. It reminded me of an excerpt told by Mariah Nielson, the daughter and curator of the works of American sculptor and creative all-rounder JB Blunk; ““Pick a cup” my father would say to guests when they came by our house for tea. Each guest would study and choose their favorite from our dedicated “cup nook”: seven shelves built in a corner of the kitchen lined with handmade ceramic vessels.”
Being the son of a glass artist, we never had a set of glasses at home. Instead, our shelves were full of odd shapes and sizes of clear and coloured glass. Much like a child who is reared on organic ingredients and therefore craves junk food, as a child all I ever wanted was the ubiquitous set of IKEA or Dunnes Stores cups all the other families had. But today when people drop in, I now offer them not only a selection of teas or coffee, but their choice of handmade "off the shelf” cups too…