Jason Braham
I first sat at a potter’s wheel in 1972 when appointed to teach ceramics alongside sculpture. After thirty-five years of teaching, I settled in Radnorshire to work as a full-time potter.
My twin inspirations have always been the tradition established by Bernard Leach at St Ives, which was founded on the Japanese model, and the spirit of English country ware, revived by Leach’s student, Michael Cardew. I am also drawn to the rural pottery of other European countries.
I have always had an enthusiasm for ash glazes, combining wood ash and local clays to produce the characteristic “celadon” greens of ancient Chinese pots. These glazes work best when fired in the “live flame” of a wood or oil-fired kiln. I have devoted a lot of time to salt glaze, a challenging process that gives surface qualities unattainable by any other means. It was commonly practiced in mediaeval Germany and later became a significant element of British industrial ware, but it had all but disappeared until tentatively revived by Leach, then enthusiastically embraced by student potters in the late ‘60s.
I fire in two 48 cubic foot kilns, backing onto a shared flue and fired initially on wood, finally on oil.
My pots are made at the wheel and decorated as they are thrown or at “leather hard” stage. The pots for salt firing are dipped in slips made from combinations of various clays which will be transformed into glazes by the fluxing effect of sodium vapour, released as salt is cast into the fireboxes towards the end of each firing.
I like best those pots that look as if they’ve always been here, while retaining the freshness of the moment they were thrown. I like them to be generous, to invite touch and to be complemented by good food and drink.
My twin inspirations have always been the tradition established by Bernard Leach at St Ives, which was founded on the Japanese model, and the spirit of English country ware, revived by Leach’s student, Michael Cardew. I am also drawn to the rural pottery of other European countries.
I have always had an enthusiasm for ash glazes, combining wood ash and local clays to produce the characteristic “celadon” greens of ancient Chinese pots. These glazes work best when fired in the “live flame” of a wood or oil-fired kiln. I have devoted a lot of time to salt glaze, a challenging process that gives surface qualities unattainable by any other means. It was commonly practiced in mediaeval Germany and later became a significant element of British industrial ware, but it had all but disappeared until tentatively revived by Leach, then enthusiastically embraced by student potters in the late ‘60s.
I fire in two 48 cubic foot kilns, backing onto a shared flue and fired initially on wood, finally on oil.
My pots are made at the wheel and decorated as they are thrown or at “leather hard” stage. The pots for salt firing are dipped in slips made from combinations of various clays which will be transformed into glazes by the fluxing effect of sodium vapour, released as salt is cast into the fireboxes towards the end of each firing.
I like best those pots that look as if they’ve always been here, while retaining the freshness of the moment they were thrown. I like them to be generous, to invite touch and to be complemented by good food and drink.