In Search of Ceramic Histories

HISTORY AND THE QUESTION OF VALUE

Adopting the 'linear' model evolved by Art History, CERAMIC HISTORIES tend to present the history of ceramics as a chronological unfolding of ceramic practices that arose in a particular PLACE (ceramic centre, region, town or country) at a particular TIME, under the impetus of certain individuals (Craftsmen or Artists) who, working under specific circumstances, contributed to the advance or to the revival of ceramics.

These histories tend to be written selectively and arbitrarily.

In their attempt to map out a FIELD that is, by its very nature, HETEROGENEOUS and IMMENSE, they leave out large sections of works, that they regard as less or not significant.

Museum collections reflect this approach, and reinforce it by being even more (arbitrarily) selective; emphasizing national over inter-national achievements.

This editing out of whole aspects of ceramic history — to conform to and perpetuate aesthetic conventions and taste — is problematic, for it gives a distorted perspective of ceramic history.

This, for instance, can be verified by looking at the article 'VALLAURIS' on the French Wikipedia, where Vallauris was reduced to a few names, and left out (before I filled the gap) the 'popular' ceramic strand that played such an important part in making Vallauris what it was during the 50s and 60s, before standards collapsed.

The fact that many factories or workshops simply signed 'Vallauris' adding, at times, a papel label to identify themselves, does not justify ignoring their contributions.

This elitist (and 'lazy') way of writing ceramic history — focusing on stars and super-stars — reduces the infinite complexity that exists on the ground to an impoverished, but manageable collection of arbitrarily selected examples that confirms taste, ideologies and national pride.

In its genuine attempt to preserve the best works for posterity, however, these histories unwittingly impoverish the field they claim to represent.

This simplification of 'History' enables gallerists, collectors, museum curators and historians to make sense and interpret this heterogeneity with an air of AUTHORITY and to present it as a COHERENT reflection of what actually happened.

The eluded parties, however, are sadly eluded as 'collateral losses'.

What is lost in the selection process, however, is not addressed; for these accounts claim to single out the best and the essential for posterity.

Working from unquestioned aesthetic assumptions and theoretical preconceptions this way of writing ceramic history, according to arbitrary hierarchies, operates a CLOSURE: leaving out IMPORTANT and significant aspects of ceramics, and, more importantly, preventing us to examine the basis of our VALUES and TASTE and to challenge their ascendency upon our perception, in the face of PLURALISM and difference.

AESTHETIC DISCRIMINATION

This way of writing history rests on the assumption that the 'GOOD' and the 'BAD' in ceramics can be determined on the basis of objective criteria.

This assumption is evident in Bernard Leach's A Potter's Book (1940) — in the chapter titled 'Towards a Standard' —; and, more generally, in histories of ceramics: from Bernard Rackham & Herbert Read's English Pottery (1924) to Paul Rice's British Studio Ceramics (2002).

The writing of HISTORY, in these cases, purports to single out the BEST and the 'EXEMPLARY'.

One problem with the assumption that quality can be objectively defined from one position, is that it prevents us from recognizing it in other works (in particular those industrially or semi-industrially produced), which depart from or challenge conventional VALUES, in their quest for/defintion of new aesthetic paradigms.

In so doing, we reduce and impoverish the range of ceramics, that constitute the CANON.

The case of VALLAURIS is significant, where the very few publications, exhibitions and museum displays available focus on STARS and SUPER-STARS, and neglect forms of experimentation that have been dismissed as popular KITSCH.

The alternative I propose to explore, here, recognizes, after Roland Barthes, than meanings are not 'in the work' itself, but are constructed and evolves through our interaction with the works, in relation to other works. Meanings are, as linguist Ferdinand de Saussure, stated 'differential'.

My experience of curating the KERAMIK CONVERSATION exhibition, for the Ceramic Gallery at Aberysthwyth University in 2012-2013, suggested that the meaning of a work is not one, but changes and proliferates ad infinitum, as we position it in relation to other works. In this sense we could say that the meaning of works is relational.

As one places one work next to another, we notice how every new encounter reveals something different about both works — differentially (as linguists taught us words work) —; proving that meanings are not ontologically embedded (enshrined) in the works, but arise from our creative interaction with them.

WHAT WE CALL THE MEANINGS OF THE WORKS ARE NOT 'IN' OR 'OF' THE WORKS, BUT RATHER EXPRESS OUR WAYS OF POSITIONING OURSELVES IN RELATION TO THEM.

One correlate of this is that APPRECIATION of ceramics requires a constant shifting of our position, and cannot rely on appraising them from a fixed position: where the 'good' or the 'bad' becomes apparent.

Ideological Obstacles: 'THE CATEGORICAL EYE'

The unquestioned assumptions and AESTHETIC A PRIORI, used to exclude certain types of ceramics (popular, factory-made) constitute, alongside NATIONALIST PERSPECTIVES, a major obstacle towards opening the ceramic field to true AESTHETIC and CULTURAL DIVERSITY.

It is undeniable (as can be verified by a large proportion of what is sold on ebay) that COMMERCIALISM and INDUSTRIAL PRODUCTION produced a mass of LOW QUALITY CERAMICS; however, Leach's claims that the division of labour in industrial production was, in itself, incompatible with the production of good ceramics — alleging that the workers did not have the opportunity to express themselves — is unwarranted. For, it fails to appreciate the achievements of firms who produced work with artistic ambition; from the top down.

As the 'ceramic conversation' (below) shows studio and factory works can achieve discrete qualities which reflect their respective modes and techniques of production and the skills of the designers and makers involved:

In this encounter, a serially-produced, but hand-thrown, stoneware bottle vase by Rudi Stahl (left) faces a slip-cast vase designed by Kurt Tschörner (form) and Otto Gerhaz (glaze); and made by skillful craftsmen and women as part of a process of collective authoring, which capitalised on the integration of CTAFT SKILLS with INDUSTRIAL MODES OF PRODUCTION. Unfortunately few of the names of the makers survived; but their anonymity does not justify calling them 'factory hands' and assimilating them to machines.

Rather than assuming simplistically — as Leach invites us, that where tasks were divided, the staff of ceramic manufactures were working 'mechanically', like machines ('factory hands' as Paul Rice puts it) — it seems more appropriate to examine closely (when evidence is available), how things worked in specific factories and workshops, and evaluate the results according to concrete evidence and with a wider set of CRITERIA.

The vase below was hand-thrown by E.T. Radford, around 1910, at the Royal Lancastrian Pottery, where Radford worked from 1903 to 1936. Lomax, who was in charge of glazing remarked: 'His skill and his enthusiasm for his craft remained with him to the end' (p. 122).
The vase deliberately shows the traces of the hand in the pattern of concentric circles, enabling the luminous glaze that was applied to it — probably by William Brockbank who worked at Pilkington's from 1908 to 1938 — to radiate.

Abraham Lomax's monograph on the Royal Lancastrian Pottery (1957), subtitled

'Its achievements and its makers' throws some interesting light about the individuals who, collectively, under the leadership of William Burton, operated a significant shift in the decoration of ceramics: moving from figurative patterns to abstract glazes; inspired by those continental experiments (by Dalpayrat and others) they had seen at the 1900 Paris Exposition Universelle.

In order to appreciate this pot we must not project onto it the expectations of a different (passeist) aesthetics, but let its form and materiality 'work' on us: the simplicity of the lines, the subtlety of the color (unlike any green produced before), the shimmering quality of the glaze, that seems to radiate from the surface rather than merely cover it, as glazes often did…

Lomax praised Brockbank, pointing out that 'He took a deep interest in his work and rejoiced greatly at his success. Royal Lancastrian owes much to his masterly technique…' adding the personal note 'In his leisure hours violin playing was his recreation' (pp. 126-7).

These remarks about the two craftsmen who made this vase and who, without Lomax, would now be forgotten — like many others who worked elsewhere — should make us cautious when reading comments that describe factory production as necessarily impersonal, mechanical and lacking in expression.

Much is gained, instead, by shifting our expectations when looking at ceramics, and allowing the works to guide us into their own aesthetic world, rather than projecting expectations based on our experience and familiarity with works produced according to completely different aesthetics.

Upon close scrutiny what Leach presented as an objective statement shows itself to be the subjective expression of a judgement of taste: the expression of a categorical eye; to put in in the terminology of Guido Ballo (The Critical Eye, 1969).

Ballo's distinction between 'Ordinary', 'Categorical' and Critical' is valuable, here, as it invites us to approach the works without a priori and let our experience of engaging with the work generate values and meanings.

This is easier said than done; for it presupposes being able to respond intuitively, and freeing ourselves from the limitations of our taste. With the help of contextual knowledge about the condition under which the work was done, we can engage the works 'in their own terms' and let them affect us intimately; without projecting onto them expectations or preconceptions.

Ballo's recommendation is simple, it invites us to engage with the works, with the help of contextual knowledge, but free from aesthetic a prioris: 'Critical judgement is ... synonymous with basic knowledge, which enables us to penetrate into the very essence of each particular work by examining the technique and the style employed in order to achieve expression' (p.119).

In this way, direct engagement with the works can give us access to new aesthetic experiences that would, otherwise, be closed to us, if we let our taste and aesthetic conventions frame our perception.

VALLAURIS: THE ORGANIC EVOLUTION OF TRADITION

In the traditional workshops of Vallauris, like Foucard-Jourdan, for instance, who, alongside Saltalamacchia, FPP and others, continued the tradition of 'poteries culinaires' into the 1950s, work was divided between a 'tourneur' (thrower), a glazier, a 'hansiste' (who made and applied the handles), and the 'cuiseur' (responsible for firing). They were assisted by others who prepared the clay, handled and loaded the pots, etc.

This division of labour — inherited from a centuries old tradition — was appropriate to the tasks at hand and inherent to the technology used.

Thus, in the emblematic 'pignate' (a two handled cooking pot extensively used till WWII), below, made by several workshops, all actions involved in the making process converge and are perfectly integrated in a functional form:

Narbon Jourdan Foucard, Pignate, Earthenware, glazed on the inside (late 19th century)

The pot expresses the spirit of a tradition based on the collective contribution of individuals, working in close collaboration, in a workshop, towards a common aim; according to a centuries-old mode and techniques of production:

Atelier Saltalamacchia, The 'tourneur' and 'hansiste' at work (1940s-50s).

This does not show the mechanical performance of alienated 'factory hands', as intimated by Leach and his followers, but a functional division of labour.

Here, the collaborative mode of production enabled all makers involved to exercise their specific skills and to share the satisfaction of seeing the results of their collaboration.

Nothing looks contrived about the 'pignate'.

In contrast with the cloned stoneware domestic pots produced in the Leach and Cardew workshops, it radiates a direct/humble/anonymous authenticity that arises from the adequacy between material, form and function, and from the fact that it is 'organic' in the sense given to the term by Gramsci when he defines the 'organic intellectual' (risen from the people).

By contrast, grafted onto an industrial culture, the rustic-revivalist forms generated by Leach

and Cardew:

expressed a way of life that, by then, had long disappeared.

Adopting the shape of cooking pots to make serving dishes, they provided icons of bygone ages which evoked a vanished way of life and fulfilled a sense of nostalgia.

However well made, technically, they are contrived in their adoption of ruralist forms, and aggressively intolerant in their virulent polemic against factory-made, designed ceramics.

The fact that many factory-produced wares were poor did not justify ruling out the capacity to produce 'good' work by industrial or semi-industrial means, as the Bauhaus advocated and factories demonstrated in Germany.

'Good' results could and, indeed, were achieved, through the application of a 'creative mix' that I shall examine later.

THE REINVENTION OF TRADITION

A pitcher from the Aegitna workshop, set up in 1920 by Placide Saltalamacchia, made during the 1950s:

shows how, with a great economy of means, a simple, elegant shape was produced — and its functionality enhanced — by the deliberate act of cutting part of the neck to produce a spout, before the addition of the handle.

The uneven application of the traditional green glaze confers on the pitcher a unity of form which allows the marks of its own making to show.

Aegitna and Foucard-Jourdan's production could, perhaps, be compared with the works produced at the Fremigton pottery by and under E.B. Fishley, till 1912, when he died:

E.B. Fishley and his staff, c. 1910.

Except that they lasted longer into the century and adapted the tradition from which they had come well into the 1950s; till commercialism and a dramatic change in public taste led these traditional workshops gradually to focus on making ware for tourists.

Under Fishley-Holland, the Fremington Pottery failed to reinvent itself and succumbed to making unremarkable decorative wares compared with those produced by E.B. Fishley; who was rightly described as the last of the traditional potters in England. His work belonged to a different century and could not have been merely reproduced ad nauseam. This could only have led to the production of pastiches and acknowledged a fundamental incapacity to re-invent tradition, as many of the Staffordshire potteries tragically demonstrated on the way to their closure.

THE 50S AND 60S: THE END OF CULINARY POTTERY IN VALLAURIS

AS NEW FORMS OF EXPERIMENTATION FLOURISHED, DURING THE 50S AND 60S:

Marino. Le Vaucour. Engraved mark 'VALLAURIS' on base (1950s-60s). The attribution of this and similar vases to Le Vaucour was made possible by finding a vase of the same design signed 'Le Vaucour'.

— under the impetus of art-school-trained artists and non-conformist potters who came to Vallauris to reinvent themselves art 'artistes-potiers' — the now obsolete hand-thrown earthenware cooking pots were turned into ornaments:

Metamorphosis of the pignate: from cooking pot to ornament. From left to right: anon., Fazio, Aegitna

before these traditional forms were updated and adapted to modern taste.

During the 50s, the Robert Picault factory produced hand-thrown salad bowls, fruit bowls, pitchers, 'vide poches and vases, which combined updated traditional forms and colorful hand-painted decoration in green on white, inspired by medieval islamic pottery.

This re-invention of tradition contributed to define a new popular modernity.

The function of these ceramics, however, was essentially decorative.

The salad or fruit bowl, below, appears to have been used to stand a plant pot: