Tactile

Kelly Jessiman makes things from clay. We meet Kelly at her home in St Leonards, at the table where she makes her pottery, surrounded by work in progress.

Has art always been in your life, and at what stage did you find an interest in ceramics?

Kelly.  Art has always been my thing. It’s been in my life for as long as I can remember. In the first year of school, the teachers often chose my drawing or painting as an example to show everyone. I remember all those comments. Art has always been therapeutic for me; I had a rocky childhood, and art was always something I could go and do on my own. Even now, if I’m having a hard time mentally, I do something with clay; it calms my mind.

At school, an art teacher, Mrs Brunham, put me forward to do my art GCSE early, I was about 12 years old, and I had three months to get all the GCSE coursework done and hand it in. I will never forget her; she believed in me and encouraged me to explore art.

One school holiday when I was a teenager, my grandparents paid for me to do a shoe smith course and, at another time, a silver smith course. My nan bought me a sewing machine when I was 16, so I started making clothes. I tried everything linked to art. It was all the other subjects I struggled severely with.

When I was at Kingston College, about to finish my A-Levels, I started looking for a summer holiday job. I went into Marks & Spencer; they were opening a new store. I walked in, and before I could say anything, they said, “oh, you must be here for the VM (visual merchandiser) job”. I didn’t know what that was and said “yeah, sure”. I had to do several interviews, tests like how would you display this, etc., and I got the job. They sent me for training up north as they were rebranding to Your M&S. That was a creative job, an eye-opener. I did that job for a few months and realised it wasn’t for me.

I then started a one-year foundation course at Chelsea. I found it hard trying to choose what to do. In the back of my mind, I was thinking, how do you make money from a creative process? So I entered the fashion department within the foundation course, thinking I wanted to do theatre set design. Because you get to paint backdrops, make larger objects, and work with fabric for costumes. I could learn about lighting and other things; I want to know how to do everything.

I lasted a week there and realised fashion was not for me. So I went back to fine art and spent the rest of my time creating more conceptual art, installations and some videos.

From there, I went to Camberwell School of Art. I thought I’ll do fine art sculpture to learn more about materials. Maybe it’s my fault, being dyslexic, but I didn’t read anything about the courses beforehand. I imagined I would use many different materials and learn techniques. But it wasn’t like that; it was very conceptual. They did have a great technician that you could go to for advice and help with materials. I felt uncomfortable there like I didn’t fit in. I was way too sensitive for art school. Weekly crits were horrible. I couldn’t believe what some of the tutors would say about people’s work. There could have given more constructive criticism; instead, it was very negative.

Growing up, I didn’t consider what other people would think about what I’m doing. If I wanted to make something, I went ahead and made it. I didn’t think about where it would end up or how people would perceive it. A lot of the time, I’d have dreams about things, remember them and make them. The process of making those things was therapeutic for me. I would realise that’s how I felt about the world or what was going on in my life. It was a language that I could use.

At art school, craft was like a dirty word. It felt like there was a ranking with fine art at the top and design near the bottom. Craft was seen as lower then low. I hope that’s changed.

“I had trouble seeing my work as art when I started with clay because, in my head, that was craft. Is it art? Isn’t it? I don’t know. I’m accepting of all creative outlets.”

For years after graduating, I didn’t make or draw or anything; I had low self-esteem. I was a failure; I felt like I was rubbish. I had blagged an interior design job with my mate Katie while working in bars and randomly did a styling job. None of these creative jobs lasted long.

Then I did a bit of sewing for my partner Jamie; he runs a music charity called The Joe Strummer Foundation. They are great; they raise money for other musicians and help other projects, like the charity Way Out Arts in Sierra Leone.

I don’t understand the art world. I feel uncomfortable at private views. I certainly don’t have the confidence to show a portfolio. I guess that’s where Instagram comes in. It has coursed anxiety, but it’s also helped take the edge off. I can post things, and people can find what they like. My partner and friends were saying you have to be on Instagram. I’m such an addict to my phone I didn’t want another reason to be looking at it. But I signed up to Instagram during the lockdown, which brought many opportunities. And it’s helped build my whole career so far.

“Who decides what is art? I love things that have meaning and emotion. I like it all, and I want to be surrounded by beautiful things and even better if it has emotion and meaning behind them.”

So when did clay come into your life?

Kelly.  So when I did my art GCSE early, I made a couple of things from clay, a giant foot, a large coil pot and a massive eight-headed sculpture out of clay which cracked in the firing. But then I didn’t touch it again until I was pregnant with my first child, around 11 years ago. My friends bought me lessons at a weekly beginners class at Morley College in London. Again I didn’t touch clay for years after that. Being a mum, it isn’t easy finding free time with the three kids. I needed something for myself.

Lockdown allowed me the time and space to get started. I’d been working in a plant shop, but that closed, like most businesses, had to. I couldn’t take the kids on play dates and all the other things of everyday life. No one would be coming to the house, so I didn’t have the pressure of keeping it tidy. We are lucky we have three kids so that they can interact with each other.

My partner kindly got me a present, to do a taster clay course. I was ungrateful; I didn’t want a beginner taster session; I wanted to do a refresher course. I ended up taking someone’s space who had dropped out because of COVID. So I could turn up and get on with my own thing. What I was making started selling; I posted images on Instagram, and people wanted to buy them. I couldn’t believe it!

“I am honoured and flattered that people buy what I’ve made, which brings me joy.”

Charleston House asked me if I would do a range for them, for when they reopen after the lockdowns. So, of course, I said yes. But, at that point, I was making it at home and then driving it to a studio to be fired. That became ridiculous; I needed to invest in a kiln, which I had no idea how to use at that stage.

So I did a lot of research and watched many YouTube videos. Thank God for technology! I bought a kiln with a computer, which does all the hard work for me. I was so fixated on clay and experimentation through making.

From there, I got asked to make stuff for shops, and that’s when it really started. I’m still finding my feet; it’s only been two years or so. I love to do more experimental larger pieces rather than repeating work. So I’m leaning more towards galleries as they take my larger, more experimental work.

I have built a relationship with Charleston, McCully & Crane, Pluck, Big Yin Gallery, L’absurde and Livingstone St. Ives. But it is Marcus from McCully & Crane who takes on work that I experiment with. He presents work almost like a shop, as an interior environment, while still being a gallery. So it’s not so scary, like a gallery, but it’s more accessible.

I’ve been making pots inspired by Matisse paintings for the Philadelphia Museum of Art shop, where they are selling fast. That’s been great; it will probably end as it’s in conjunction with an exhibition they have on.

I enjoy making candle sticks, but if I can constantly experiment and push the boundaries with what I make and express myself through it, I feel like I’ve won at life.

I’m grateful for every piece that sells because it allows me to play. Unfortunately, some of the larger pieces I experiment with don’t survive. And it would’ve taken me five days to make; then it’ll fallen over, or got poked by little fingers, or cracked, or the glaze gets stuck to the shelf. It’s all a learning curve, but I’m glad I have the shop orders to keep me going. The cost of running the kiln is so expensive, so it can be a worry when I lose work.

What keeps you developing, learning and inspired?

Kelly.  When I first started, I was so obsessed with clay I couldn’t even watch a film without looking at shapes within the film that could be turned into clay, or I would lose concentration and research more on my phone. I watch videos of people all around the world, with different processes and styles. Pottery in this country is taught and practised with many rules; for example, you have to wedge the clay and do it like this, etc. That’s not me; I want to try it all to see what happens. Push the boundaries and experiment.

And you know what? It didn’t explode like they tried to teach. If I’m making something delicate, like a plate, I will remove all the bubbles from the clay. But otherwise, I make sure everything is 100% dry before it goes in the kiln. I’ve learned everything the hard way; it’s all trial and error, and then you know.

If the repetition of a large order gets on top of me, and I don’t want to make another plate, I start on something random that doesn’t need to be made. That makes me happy again; ever since I started, it’s been like that. Since I started, I haven’t had much time to plan; there has always been an order to fulfil, which is great, but it doesn’t leave me much time to play.

I have many inspirations, from modern paintings to ancient artefacts.

I love to see how things are made. I love paintings; Luke Hannam’s paintings and drawings inspire me. We did a small collaboration. I made platters, and he drew on them. I’ve made some heads for him to paint.

I like painterly brushstrokes, and sometimes I do that on a pot.

We’re all humans, but we have all had different experiences, and we’re all born with personalities. I have three children, and they all came out with different characters. Before they even experience things, we all have our own personalities. Whatever path you take, it’s about being authentic, finding your something and being true to yourself. I tried out so many different creative outlets until I discovered clay. I wish for everyone to follow what they truly love doing.

I’m now at the art school where I should have always been in my own space, experimenting. Well, maybe the whole of life is like that.

“I didn’t decide to be an artist. I didn’t want to be an artist. It’s just something I have always done and enjoyed. And if I can get a job doing something creative in any way, I’ll do it.”

Kelly Jessiman
www.kellyjessiman.com
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