Monday, 8 February 2010
Saturday saw the opening of 24 British Potters, a new show at the Goldmark Gallery that everyone here has been beavering away at for weeks. The van's been out on the road continually, picking up pots from Peckham workshops, Bow railway arches, an old piano factory in Camden, and, memorably, from halfway up a snow-bound Welsh mountain. It's been an eye-opener for me, I can tell you, as one who hitherto had thought of pottery as something to keep leftover bubble and squeak in in the fridge. Many of the very top potters were here, dusted down for the occasion, and I welcomed nine of them at Kettering station. "Have you all come on the Harry Potter Express" I asked, and when the eight seater taxi turned-up there was a fight so as not be the one that had to come with me to the gallery. Which by the time we arrived was already heaving with ceramic cognescenti and our girls rushing about putting 'sold' red dots on the white plinths. From far and wide they came (hello John from Long Melford) to look, admire, chat and drink cold champagne in warm company. I can't tell you very much about the two dogs that came along, except they'd look nice with just their heads poking out of a pair of urns. But I do know that after all this I'll never look at my Colman's Mustard pot in quite the same way again. Do come and take a look in the next three weeks; word's getting around it's one of the best shows for years.