Gareth Mason

Conventional wisdom says firing is a ‘full stop’ for a pot. Flick a switch and walk away. Ping: cooked. This is not enough. For me ceramics is a powerful, sexy, metamorphic art, redolent of emotion from any point on life’s unpredictable continuum. I want my work to whisper and scream its igneous origins out. I return it to the furnace repeatedly, wresting vitality from it, or injecting a little healthy death. If scars are accrued along this hellish path, so be it; that’s life. I want revelation, fierce beauty. I re-fire and risk all, because serenity and the abyss are interesting bedfellows.


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