The Ferrous Collection

Ever since I started foraging for sand and rocks to use in my pottery, I've become interested in the chemistry of when and how metal melts. If I'd realised earlier that this would be relevant to my interests in life, I probably would have approached high school science in a different way. But it's never too late to learn.

My particular interest right now is iron. Iron has been used for thousands of years by potters. Traditional celadon glazes, used throughout East Asia, are made using a small amount of iron oxide which turns green when fired in a reduction atmosphere. Pottery studios in cities tend to have electric kilns, which produce more uniform glazes, often in bold colours. This means that urban potters who prefer the look of glazes fired in gas or wood burning kilns have to develop little tweaks to make things a bit more interesting.

My first step was mixing my own glazes from the basic stock at my studio. Although I didn't pay attention in science class, I did pay attention in all my art classes so I know how to achieve different colours. Unlike with paint though, this is purely theoretical when working with raw glaze as the colour when it is unfired doesn't look anything like it does when it's fired. 


I managed to get the greens and blues I was looking for after some trial and error. But it seemed like I was still missing something. So I returned to the idea of the foraged materials and thought about how I could achieve something similar that didn't result in a rough texture, particularly on the rim. 

I tested a pot with a light brushing of iron oxide on the rim to see what would happen. I loved the way it melted down into the glaze, adding an extra dimension that took it one step further from the flat, uniform finish that the electric kiln so often produces.

The Ferrous Collection is a range of hand thrown table and kitchenware that incorporates iron in its various forms. Iron rich rock from La Gomera in the Canary Islands is ground down and added as red dust to the clay before throwing. This results in unpredictable iron blooms that only appear when the pot reaches glaze temperature.

For the pots that have iron oxide brushed on the rim, I apply this between glaze dips so it gets really incorporated into the finish rather than just sitting on top. Some other pots have rust I've collected around my studio added when the clay is still wet. My studio is based in an old railway arch and the actual metal arch is constantly shedding rust so I don't have to travel far to do my foraging.

All my work is for sale at my shop. Get in touch if you want to find out the story behind the particular pot you are interested in.  

Foraging for pottery

Set of two nesting bowls with sand from La Graciosa in the Canary Islands wedged into the clay.

Lately I've been trying to find ways to combine the things I enjoy doing. Maybe it's related to getting older. On the one hand, it's facing up to the reality that there isn't an infinite amount of time left. On the other, it's about making quality time the priority over the time spent on things that 'need' to be done. Either way, I've successfully combined three things I love into these pots.

The first and most obvious is pottery. The decision to take it more seriously required getting to the point where I believe that I'm good enough and that it's worth the effort. This becomes more difficult with as more time passes. It's also difficult without any formal education or training and before anything in the way of sales. Nevertheless, in September I took a job at my pottery studio, allowing me to work at my 'day job' one less day a week and focus more on working with my hands. I also started selling my work more regularly.

Vase with stripes made of clay foraged in Whitstable. Known as London Clay, this was traditionally used for brick making.

The second is foraging. I love searching for edible and medicinal plants when I'm out in the countryside. I've been faithfully looking for edible mushrooms I can confidently identify for years. Over the last year, I found and ate two delicious porcinis and one giant puffball, although chanterelles still elude me. It was only after a trip to Iceland a few years ago, where I picked up some beautiful black sand from a secluded beach near Húsavík when I figured out that I could also forage for materials to use in my pottery.

Bottle with sand from Húsavík in the north of Iceland wedged into the clay. 

So the third thing that is incorporated into these pots is traveling. I've started collecting sand, rocks and even clay everywhere I go. Whether it's on a day trip to Whitstable or an extended road trip around the Olympic Peninsula, I bring home weird looking baggies of unidentifiable stuff.  I'm sure being a white woman with an American passport is the only reason I'm able to get these odd things across borders without any fuss.

Bottle with large sand particles from Lake Crescent on the Olympic Peninsula glazed transparent.

The rocks and sand around Lake Crescent are high in basalt from ancient volcanic eruptions in the Olympic Mountains.

I've developed a particular interest in places with unique geography, especially volcanic and formally volcanic sites. The sand and rocks from these places do particularly interesting things in a 1200ºC kiln. They not only melt but spread out in beautiful patterns and react in unpredictable ways with the glazes.

Jade green glazed bottle with a trail of volcanic sand from La Graciosa in the Canary Islands.

There is a lot of experimentation involved and often the results are not great. With the initial excitement of seeing how the Icelandic sand looked, I wedged it into the clay so it was incorporated evenly throughout entire pots. I've moved away from that and started to use these foraged elements as more subtle details to enhance the shape of the pots.  All pottery for sale can be viewed in my shop.