The Journal of Australian Ceramics Vol 54 No 1 April 2015

The Function of Art, The Art of Function
Constant Movement in
Space and Time
Kelly Austin explores the contri bution pots make
I'm sitting up at the bar inside Monster Kitchen and Bar in Canberra on a warm Friday afternoon. The
last two hours have been spent photographing my pots in situ, trying to capture these objects in their
home. As I move around the space my mind wanders, struggling to find a place of grounding. I'm
dreading writing about them, worried that I don't have sufficient answers as to why they are important.
Yet my entire afternoon - indeed most of my everyday life - is dedicated to them.
I've captured the images I'm after and sit down to enjoy a bite. I force myself to change pace and
ease into the moment, as if I am experiencing this for the very first time. The clarity allows me to both
listen to the present moment and reflect on my experience as a maker. Pots are complicated objects
for something that is so seemingly simple. Answers slowly begin to flow like water returning to a
dry stream. Still murky and undefined, I begin to jot down ideas as to what pots offer: tremendous
challenge, aesthetic experience and connections. They have given me the opportunity to collaborate and
provide a physical making practice.
Challenge
The number of requirements that functional pots have to fulfill presents significant challenges for a
maker. At the forefront, they have to function: a server has to be able to handle them quickly and
efficiently, and they have to be robust, the right size, and stack in a way that maximises space in the
kitchen. Then the object has to be in harmony with the food that is placed in or upon it. We have to
consider colour, texture, form and weight and how these qualities will align with the sensibilities of the
space they will exist in.
Just like a singer in a chorus, the pot has to annunciate and sing in key. Its delivery has to be clear
and in perfect time for the audience to experience the sou nd of many voices as one. Then there is
the solo, where the pot has to be capable of singing unaccompanied, sitting clean and ready on the
kitchen bench or on top of the espresso maker. The very best pots seemingly accomplish all of these
tasks effortlessly. W ith all this in mind, we then tackle the complexities of making these objects in clay,
for a set price point, and to a delivery date. The objects in themselves may be simple, but the fact that
they cannot exist without a relationship to other objects and environments brings forward a group of
complexities which I find engaging.
42 THE JOURNAL OF AUSTRALIAN CERAMICS APRil 2015