Words By Hannah Tapping | Images By John Hersey
Simple forms, smoky shadows and a glint of colour. Each piece from Tucana Ceramics is inspired by the ever-changing sky and its ocean reflections.
Christina Feltham grew up in Somerset on a small farm where life was always hands-on, with days spent out in the countryside. Leaving for college she always knew her future would be associated with the arts.
“My family was full of creatives,” says Christina, “from artists, architects and photographers, to sign writers and brush makers, I was surrounded on all sides by creativity and art. When it came to my own study, I was torn between hands-on furniture design and brand design. Brand design won and I embarked on an exciting career as a designer for an international brand agency in Bath. After six years I was offered a role that would first take me to Bangkok and then later to Australia. I absolutely loved everything about Australia; the country, the culture, the climate. I would spend weekends exploring with my friends and family embracing nature.”
However, Christina found that her work began to feel quite processed and she wanted to find an avenue whereby she could elevate her sketches.
“I took a short course in ceramics and I was fascinated by how it brought life to my designs. I continued my study and my passion for ceramics evolved from there. I have always been inspired by very sculptural forms and architectural pieces and suddenly I had found a medium that combined both.”
Returning to the UK, her work shifted from expressing quite simple forms to a more textured approach, a change that Christina puts down to the change in landscape. Rather than the rich, bright colours of Australia, Cornwall’s natural landscape, earthy textures and its sentinel forms along the coastline began to inform her work. “I began to develop a new series of work; stacked forms reminiscent of the rocky formations of the Cornish coast.”
It was at this time that Christina also began experimenting with firing techniques. “I wanted to achieve something that reflected the ever-changing skies, different every day, with an unexpected nature. I had always loved the idea of going back to really traditional methods. So, I started to research barrel firing, which is one of the oldest methods of firing. I sourced a large metal drum, drilled air holes into the base and set up bricks underneath. I collected driftwood and seaweeds, any kind of natural combustible materials really. The salt from the seaweed created really interesting patterns and even the driftwood pieces with their inherent iron nails influenced the finish. What I started to notice was the effect the combustible material had on the resulting colours. I began to experiment with different combinations and organic matter.”
Coil and slab building are Christina’s preferred methods: “I roll the clay flat and carefully cut out the shapes, pasting them together with slip and then allowing the works to slowly dry so that they don’t crack. Once they’ve got to what you call the leather-hard stage, then you can start to build sculptural forms as the clay is strong enough to hold its shape.
“They then have to be allowed to dry again, very slowly in temperature-controlled conditions – if it’s too hot, they dry too quickly and they crack. If it’s too cold, the process is more lengthy. They are stored in my studio, but must be out of direct sunlight covered with a cloth to keep the atmosphere regular around them. It’s a slow process but there’s something quite nice about the fact that you’re in the hands of nature.
“When they have dried to the stage where the pieces no longer feel cold to the touch, the process continues in the kiln, where the initial firing can take up to 12 hours. Once out of the kiln, it’s time to load the barrel. Depending on the finish that I want, depends on the kind of fire I create. A smokier fire creates darker colours – I might stack the fire with a base layer of soft pine at the bottom, then some sawdust before placing a piece into the barrel. I’ll then layer smaller bits of driftwood or sticks around it. I continue to build the layers up sprinkling in some seaweed and sea salt and whatever else I’ve found on my beach forages. Even the odd potassium-rich banana skins will go in!
“All the pieces are submerged within a mixture of wood and organic matter and packed in snugly. Once lit, the fire burns for a number of hours and then the lid is placed on to retain the heat. I fire similar shapes at the same time, because as the fire burns, they settle down onto each other.
“Different metals create different results. From iron nails, to copper dish scourers and even old chicken wire. Sometimes you get these wonderful ochre hues reminiscent of Cornwall’s mining spoils. John’s images wonderfully capture some of the rich-red patina’s on the surface of my work. The colours remind me of the oily river trails of the mine stacks when there’s tin or copper present in the earth.”
The firing process itself is an art form, with each piece emerging uniquely marked by the lick of the flame and swirls of the smoke. “Sometimes you can literally see the path the fire has taken over the pieces. I always find it fascinating as you never really know how each piece will turn out,” muses Christina.
As we talk, I’m curious as to how the name Tucana came about and learn that it has a particularly meaningful origin, born from a collaboration with her children. “I was trying to think of something that would mimic the pattern of nature,” explains Christina. “A discussion about our favourite animals led to the discovery of the Tucana constellation. Named after the Toucan, it first appeared on a celestial globe published in 1598. It contains one of the brightest globular clusters in the sky. Tucana to me, represents the contrast of the ever changing night sky and the glint of bright colour that reflects on the ocean below. A contrast that I always attempt to capture in my work.”
Her creative process involves the whole family, with her children actively participating in material collection: “They all love to help by collecting seaweed washed ashore by the ocean and delight in finding wood left strewn by the storms.”
The inspiration for Christina’s work comes directly from Cornwall’s coastline. “It’s not just the sea though, it’s the rock formations, the mine stacks, the reflections, the colours the ever changing sky. Sometimes inspired by the shimmer from the moon’s reflection. Or when the sea is grey, the pop of colour that dances on the horizon.”
Each piece undergoes careful finishing after firing as Christina explains: “I use a local beeswax that is rubbed onto the fired surface. I love the contrast; the raw and rugged markings with the smooth sheen of the polish. Again a nod to the reflections when the ocean is still and glassy against the ruggedness of the rocks.”
Christina incorporates copper wire as a finishing touch to many of her pieces: “I loved the simple texture of the works but I felt like there was something missing. I wanted to incorporate that glint of colour from the water’s reflections, similar to those magical little sparkles that you get in the rock pools. I feel that it elevates the pieces and links them back to the materials used in the firing process.”
For Christina, the process will always be experimental and exciting: “You can play so much with what you put into the barrel. Some materials might not give as much of an effect as others, but there are always surprises.” The incorporation of natural materials from Cornwall’s coastline to create unique patterns and colours truly anchors her work within the local environment.
