Recently, I spent five days in Vermont for my second masterclass with potter Stephen Procter, focused on creating large-scale pieces. It was an incredible experience, not only technically but also for the opportunity to work alongside talented ceramicists from all over the world. Being in that environment, fully immersed in creation, exchange, and observation, was deeply stimulating.
Technically, the workshop was extremely rewarding. Working large comes with its own set of challenges. Control, timing, structure, and presence are all amplified. But beyond the technical aspect, this experience became something much deeper for me. It offered me a space to step back and question my practice, what I have built so far, and the direction I wish to take.
For a long time, tableware occupied an important place in my work. It taught me discipline, repetition, and the pursuit of consistency through production. But today, I feel a certain saturation with this exploration. I am more drawn to a different kind of challenge, one that moves away from repetition and functionality to focus on scale through size, presence, and the meaning of objects.
Working large feels like a natural progression of my practice, as throwing is my favorite part of the process. When I work on a large scale, I can reduce much of the repetitive work after throwing, limit the trimming, and let the movement of the wheel be more present in the final piece. In parallel, I am becoming increasingly interested in surfaces, especially raw and tactile textures, and I am moving away from heavily glazed finishes. The minerality of clay is deeply satisfying to work with, and I want to highlight it rather than cover it up. There is something direct and honest about letting the material express itself with fewer filters.
Working on large, non-functional decorative pieces has also pushed me out of my comfort zone in unexpected ways. One of the most striking aspects was observing how people interact with these objects. Unlike tableware, which is often experienced through use, these forms invite a freer and more intuitive relationship. They seem to carry a presence that encourages projection, interpretation, and an emotional response.
A subtle form of personification occurs. People become attached to them in a very personal way. I find it very touching to see how each person attributes a meaning, a personality, to them and uses them almost as mirrors to reflect themselves. The pieces thus create a sort of orbit around them, transforming space and perception in a subtle but powerful way.
The forms I am currently exploring carry a continuous feminine curve. They are fluid yet grounded, open rather than fixed. There is something in these forms that touches on a state I wish to inhabit: soft, strong, stable, and self-assured. They do not seek perfection or control, but presence and honesty. I want them to remain open to different surface treatments, different sizes, clays, and firings. Nothing is set in stone.
In many respects, this direction is also a reflection of myself. I want to reinvent, adapt, and explore new paths. These pieces become objects of curiosity, outside the frameworks of traditional tableware or fixed series. They have the right to evolve, to change identity, to try out different forms, just as I do in my practice.
In this sense, this direction does not feel like a break. It feels more like an expansion, in terms of scale, intention, and possibility.
