Mustard Mayhem, 2024

5 pieces grouped together, including 3 tall bottles, 1 plinth and 1 vase

After spending a childhood defending my late uncle’s abstract paintings, (Melbourne artist Paul Partos who was part of the 1968 NGV exhibition The Field ) my curiosity in abstraction has only deepened. Having the freedom to consider a surface without obvious representation takes you into a non-verbal thought process I’ve come to rely on.

Taking cues from abstract painting and translating them into ceramics feels like taking a step further into the void – the process is handed over to the kiln’s wishes, and the nature of clay is gestural and expressive. When all goes well, glazes feel like the most high-quality paint set on the market, with their endless possibilities and rich surface.

Another memory directing my recent return to ceramics was being babysat in an art dealer’s apartment and finding out the auction price of a Gwyn Hanssen Pigott bowl. I was used to hearing about the value of paintings, but the idea of looking at a fragile household object that would take a lifetime of pocket money repayments if I broke it, filled me with excitement and terror. Later in life, it came as no surprise to me that Pigott was a dedicated meditator, and when I read that her vignettes were based on the paintings of Giorgio Morandi my interest accelerated.

Which brings me back to the non-verbal space that art occupies. Contemplation, solitude, and sensitivity are all actions used to describe Morandi’s practice. Arranging and rearranging objects in search of harmony are one of life’s richest pleasures which the painter’s work so powerfully communicates.

For many people vessels become personified, but in my mind they’re blank canvases offering the viewer a familiar starting point.

Ceramics, in my view, particularly non narrative pieces hold a special relevance right now as the material reflects the fragile, unpredictable nature of our times.