Ceramics As An Algorithm

It’s not that often we live in times that can be recognised as significant as they are actually happening, without having to wait for the benefit of hindsight. Nevertheless, it seems that 2023 is one we’ll look back on, sometime in the future, and regard as pivotal.

How AI has developed since 2022 is something everyone in the digital world I know has been talking about for months. Today, the headline news is that Geoffrey Hinton, an acknowledged AI expert, has quit Google and regrets his work in the field, saying AI may soon be more intelligent than humans.

This is an existential step change. The launch of ChatGPT4, just one month ago, seems to have confirmed that humans do now co-exist with a form of artificial intelligence rapidly becoming superior to our own.

What has all this got to do with ceramics? Contrary to AI, clay’s a material that couldn’t be more elemental and primitive. Well, as we hurtle along towards this scenario, it's worth considering how making things from clay can be a valuable metaphor and example of how we can thrive in this context.

Ceramics and AI both have a computational DNA. AI has developed through algorithmic recipes, while ceramics is made up of a vast range of variables including the raw materials, glaze formulations, kiln temperature and maker's skill. Ceramics is an algorithm and we can use this knowledge to approach crafting our future while coexisting with AI.

We need to consciously understand the elements behind AI in the same way that a potter understands the elements within ceramics. By doing so, we can begin to craft a future with AI where we coexist with it, rather than be subordinated by it. The development of ceramic practice across the ages is a great parallel to think about how we can best approach coexistence with AI in the years ahead.

Crafting in general, and ceramics in particular, are areas of human endeavour that can teach us about working with AI to enhance humanity. Where we were once potters working with clay to create utilitarian items that enriched our practical lives, we are also now makers of the future living in a digital civilization.

For me, understanding ceramics is an area of great excitement and satisfaction in itself; it’s also a way to figure out how we can work with the algorithms that will increasingly influence and shape us, and the lives we lead, as digital humans.

This post was written by me and refined with the help of ChatGPT .

Art and Institution

I woke up last night thinking about how, at a microscopic level, ceramics involve rearranging particles.

Platelets of clay and the minerals within them form a constitution. They settle in certain ways, they are then shaped by the human hand and become fashioned into durable objects. They are part of a process of craft and organisation, combined.

Most ceramic objects are acts of personal expression, forged by fire, that become built to last. Ceramics very often have a social purpose, as vessels that enable us to feed and as containers, into which can be poured the stuff of nourishment, be it practical or emotional.

Last summer, I was invited to prepare a piece to consider a question posed by The Young Foundation, ‘What lies beyond the meritocracy?’ and these ideas of organisation, expression and individual craft in the service of a social purpose became front of mind.

The process of thinking about a question like this led to creation of a work ‘The Bookends’ that is now to go on display at The Young Foundation, in celebration of the phenomenal legacy of the social pioneer Michael Young and the 60th Anniversary of his seminal work ‘The Rise of The Meritocracy’.

Michael Young, who became Baron Young of Dartington and died in 2002, helped establish The Consumer’s Association, The Open University, The University of the Third Age, The School for Social Entrepreneurs and many other institutions during his lifetime. The Young Foundation continues his work in making positive social change happen and in pioneering social innovation. It’s a thrill and privilege to have become a Lifetime Fellow of The Young Foundation, especially in this artistic context.

The Young Foundation have produced an Anthology, called ‘Beyond Meritocracy’ featuring a shortlisted series of terrific submissions by a range of contributors. Together, these contributors open up ideas that go beyond the ‘elitist pyramids’ that Young explored and that, he argued, were a stranglehold on society’s overall potential.

Michael Young’s book, ‘The Rise of the Meritocracy’ was a satire about how - whether through land, privilege or ‘lucky sperm’, as he called it - a few people were afforded the privilege of education and opportunity. It argued that, as things stood, elitist pyramids would always come out on top.

I thought about the pyramids of the ancients in this context, celebrating the individuality of absolute rulers but created by the masses. And I thought about how the ceramics and artefacts made by the artisans at the time are what have left us a window on their culture which, for all its greatness as a civilisation, was also brutal and authoritarian.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.

At the time I began the project, I was profoundly influenced by the 2018 V&A Exhibition Frida Kahlo: Making Herself Up.

As Diego Rivera painted, he also shared an artistic philosophy. It inspired me personally, and is recreated as ‘lucky sperm’ text on 'The Bookends' as part of the answer to The Young Foundation’s question.

Diego Rivera fulfilled his purpose as an artist by painting on institutions. Recognising perhaps the enormity of the statecraft pitted against the individual at the time, Rivera imbued their walls with artistic and social expression as a statement.

Today, as the Merit Anthology produced by The Young Foundation as a whole points out, and Jon Alexander and myself both highlight in our pieces in it, there is far more scope for the individual to make a difference. The individual is being enabled by new, emerging forms of statecraft , digital tools and democratic avenues. Populist movements around the world are perhaps an early indication of that.

I genuinely see individual artistry as being essential to our future social prosperity. The human hand is our ultimate tool of agency, whether it be used in crafting a work like The Bookends, or on a keyboard writing code or articulating a point of view.

For me, this is a time when it would be easy to lose the sense of value and social connection that working as artisans in a bigger endeavour than ourselves provides. As a result, it feels more important than ever to put the ability that all of us have, to craft our futures, front and centre in a work like this.

Michael Young was one of the twentieth century’s great innovators. The Young Foundation continues his work in making positive social change happen and in pioneering social innovation.

My intention has always been to provoke and stimulate ideas as part of an ongoing conversation about what we can achieve as a society. It’s wonderful to see this work acknowledged as part of a tribute to his legacy.  

Doodles and Dimensions

The story of how the Alter Piece figure was developed, from an initial sketch to the finished form, continues.

From the start I wanted to realise it in as interesting a way as possible and, being a bit geeky, the moment 3D printing technology came along, I was into it.

There's something amazing to me about being able to render a line on a page as an upright, self-supporting, neon-coloured piece of plastic. Using a 3Doodler pen, I drew over a slightly more finessed 2D version of the original illustration to render the shape for the first time as an upright figure.

It was a fun time. Modelling the form roughly out of air-dried clay and working with the 3D Doodle pen in combination let me explore how lines made shapes, and how they then felt to hold in the hand.

First clay version of the Alter Piece figure and 3Doodler pen sketch together.

Back and forth I went for a while, from sketches to 3D versions, using these cutting-edge and craft-based techniques together.

I wanted the shape to be soft and engaging, with 'baby shoulders' that had small indentations in them to give them character. I also envisaged a simple and precise form, so sideways on it's very streamlined, like a torpedo, reflecting the hint of the figure as an intentional tool and something ergonomically good to hold, with a stance that had a sense of movement as well as perhaps defying gravity and expectation.

The clay version enabled me to experiment with all that. Doodling multi-dimensionally gave me the option to explore scale as well, thinking about proportions and what felt right, in ways that 2D rendered designs can't do. 

The finished version's not too different at all from that 3Doodler pen sketch, as you can see. As stepping stones in a journey of making and discovery, they look good together. 

The technology in this process gave me the option to take an idea off a page and bring it to life in ways that would have been impossible previously.

My making process was guided by emerging technology, just as I think we are being guided by it as digital humans. So these Alter Piece forms are a metaphor to me about how technology enables new levels of actualisation, and how we can use them however we want.

The question of who we want to be today has never been more wide open, nor more adventurous or full of potential. It's an odyssey and a quest, because each and every person is individual and creative. The learning from my experience is you can take any idea that's flat on a page or in your mind and make it multi-dimensional and real.

As humans with technology like this - and more - at our fingertips, there are many ways in which we're able to explore altered, augmented states for better futures, new dimensions of human existence, and the creation of new, contemporary totems that can inspire.

Individual, personal expression is, I hope, entering an exciting new era.

It started with a sketch on a train...

The creative path is so often a multifaceted one.

In the last year, this blog has been named as one of the world's Top 40 leading ceramic bloggers on Feedspot, an immense honour. Nestled next to the V&A in the list is a very exciting place to be! And one I once could have only dreamt of, so thank you, Feedspot.

It's also very encouraging to read how people like my work when they write about it and the writing process is very much part of the creative process overall for me. As makers and creative humans, we noodle and doodle and play until things have meaning, don't we?

All that's got me thinking about trains of association, because of how the creative process works and because of the particular experience of how the Alter Pieces came into being.

Communicating about change is something I've done all my life, and I was determined to promote an altered state through making shapes as well as words that jump off a page when I drew this sketch.

It represents a figure universally applicable to everyone, devoid of gender or race, and something of how we are in a digital age, in terms of how it's made. In the process of its creation, I wanted to convey how we are all makers as an implicit message, as well as to create an icon that could stand the test of time, made of clay, for our ephemeral world.

I was on my way to Paris on a Eurotunnel train, and in the car in the tunnel at the moment I drew it. It was June 2014, and in the 25 minutes or so it took for me to cross the channel, the shape that is now the Alter Piece first came into being. Thoughts into actions, from intentions of moving away to writing reports which I wanted to do at the time, to something fashioned; all the while under the sea. You could say, 'vivre la difference!' is entirely appropriate here.

While in Paris, I went to the Musée du quai Branly, a place jam-packed full of anthropomorphic and cultural history. It was fascinating to see all the totems on display there, shapes of all sizes and descriptions, shapes reflecting cultures long-lost and yet, somehow, shapes of permanent value, and all recognizably human.

I realized there's something quintessentially constant in how we relate to our humanity, no matter what else changes all around us.

And that's what I seek to convey and depict in the Alter Piece figure. It is a figure designed for today and tomorrow. A slightly jaunty figure that feels good to hold in the hand. A figure that defies gravity, and convention, and yet speaks to people; a universal symbol, whatever moment in time we're in.

In my next post I'll write a little more about the original process of making the first prototype figures using 3D technology, the design registration process and what I've learned in the journey of making them. I've been spurred on somewhat by this blogging accolade and keen to continue the process of bringing things into being, on the page, in real life and, most of all, in the imagination. 

I'm also delighted to be able to say I'll be a speaker at the fantastic Digital Plymouth conference next month, where I'll be talking about 'Digital Civilization from an Artisan Perspective'. There's only a little more than a month to go, so grab a very reasonably-priced ticket while you can! It would be great to see you if you're in the area.

My first collection

Most people who know me understand that I'm a bit of a geek. There's been a fascination I've had about computing, engineering, the digital world, art - and how they coalesce - for a long time.

Being a kinesthetic person by nature, I'm also into how things feel in the hand, whether it's a bit of earth or a 3D pencil.

All these things have come together as part of my first ceramics collection, which I've called [This Earthly Code] and it's going to be on show at The Gaolyard Studios in St Ives as part of this year's Summer Festival. 

[This Earthly Code] is about fusing earthy, elemental forces, our human ‘maker’ ability and digital behaviour together through the creation of practical utensils.

                                                                                                                   Start Vase. Red.

The Gaolyard Studios are having Open Days on Wednesday 14th, Saturday 17th, Sunday 18th and Wednesday 21st September, when anyone can visit the studios. So, if you happen to be in St Ives then, you are very welcome to come and visit.

With this collection, I'm beginning the exploration of a theme I intend to develop in several ways in my ceramics, running in parallel alongside my work in digital business. 

The intention is a hopeful one, to reconnect us with our human selves and where we have come from. The pieces in the range are designed to encourage personal reflection, a sense of feeling centered and some solidity in a fast-paced 'always on' world, as well as having a functional purpose. 

                                                                                                        At Amphora Pot. Red.

As I've said elsewhere here, I think, I believe a renaissance exists for us somewhere, in the interface between human and digital design. So it just made sense to me to create something with clay, direct from the ground, and take its tangibility together with the intangible nature of the virtual commands we interact with every day, and put them together.

Whilst the symbols may be quite new, the iconography of our digital environment is growing all the time. We take many of their meanings almost for granted. So there are 'Start Vases', 'Home Bowls' and 'At Pots' and I am approaching these symbols as a new form of hieroglyphic.

They tell a story of how we live today, and the pieces are totems, recognising how far we have all come and, at the same time, taking us back to our roots.

                                                                                                             Wifi Pot. Red.

I really hope you enjoy the collection. The elements are mix and match, as is the cut and paste nature of code!

If you'd like your own favourite combination of shape, symbols and colour, please just get in touch. 

                                                                                                       Home Bowl. Tapered. Grey.

Do or don't do

I first sunk my hands into a ball of soft, buttery clay and turned it on a wheel two years ago. From that point, I was hooked. Clay bit me hard. 

I find there's a special feeling of accomplishment that comes from making things, maybe it's because I've always been quite a practical and self-reliant person. My Dad was a do-er. I remember building a swimming pool with him in our garden completely by hand, using my old baby bath to mix up the cement when I was about ten.

One way or another in my life, I've worked with a wide range of fabrics and materials. Of all of them, I have found clay the most wonderful to use. I'd never thought about the many amazing properties it has too much before, though. That was an error on my part.

I am reminded now, every day,  what an amazing ingredient clay is. It has been here for us in our lives for millennia and has a special place in my life today. Clay sits in the ground, under our feet, all the time. It's one of the most elemental, primal ingredients on earth that there is.

I love the various stages in which it can be worked, how it has solid and liquid states and can vitrify and turn to hard and durable ceramic, how it is very reconstitutable and can last forever. Solid as a brick. These are all amazing properties.

For me, clay is both a canvas and a vessel. Clay sits at the centre of many of the narratives and stories of our civilization. And in its most basic state, clay is simply a collection of platelets that sit and organise themselves in relation to heat and water. This reconstitutability makes me think of people and how we organise together.

Having a digital business career as a strategist alongside my artistic life, I am working in the cloud and virtually most of the time. The studio here in St Ives is a lovely place to land and feel grounded. The aim of what I make is to try and capture the essence of this relationship between [people] and [ceramics]. I want to be able to give to people that feeling of being grounded in their busy lives with my pieces.

The idea of making things that are honest and solid with my bare hands is appealing and therapeutic. Going back to our artisanal nature is, perhaps, a necessary counterpoint to everything that technology does for us now. I like to connect these things together in the way I work.

When everything's so pre-packaged these days, it's a wonderful feeling to be able to make breakfast, bowl included. There's no hiding place in being a potter, you either make something, or you don't. Do or don't do - there is no try!

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