Notes from Herridge - Edition 09
Hello, and welcome to the latest edition of Notes from Herridge.
A monthly update from my Oxfordshire pottery studio, where I share what I’ve been making, what’s coming up, and spotlight a fellow maker whose work I think you’ll love.
Grab a coffee and let’s catch up ☕
Studio Happenings
February has been a quietly productive month in the studio.
I made a conscious decision to step away from social media for a while and focus on building stock. It’s amazing what uninterrupted days can do; fewer notifications, more throwing. The rhythm of repetition returned, along with the steady satisfaction of shelves filling up again.
Both kilns have been working hard behind the scenes, one is currently cooling while the other has just been fired. There’s something deeply reassuring about that cycle, knowing pieces are moving through their own quiet transformation.
Having the second kiln, and moving the smaller one into the studio, has brought unexpected benefits. I can now speed up the final stages of drying by placing pieces on top of the warm kiln, and move more confidently into first firings without a long, cautious preheat.
A small pottery myth-buster while we’re here: it isn’t bubbles that cause explosions in the kiln, it’s moisture! Any water left in the clay turns to steam when heated, and as it expands, pressure builds… and that’s what causes the bang. Bubbles can trap moisture, which is where the misconception comes from.
Alongside stock building, I’ve completed a handful of commissions, including a full dinner set. Finishing a larger body of work like this can feel daunting, but knowing it will be used together around a table, becoming part of someone’s everyday rituals, is exactly why I love doing this.
With the kilns in full swing, I’m hoping to have a website update live shortly. It feels good to have work gathering again, ready for new homes.
What’s Coming Up
Early March takes me north to the Artisan Made UK Trade Show (7–8 March) in Skipton. I’ll be showcasing Herridge Pottery and, hopefully, connecting with some new retailers.
Trade shows bring a different rhythm from studio life, but I value the conversations, meeting buyers and makers who genuinely care about handmade work and the stories behind it.
If you’re attending, I’d love to see you. Please do come and say hello.
After Skipton, I’ll be updating the website before settling back into the studio to build momentum as Arts Week approaches.
Oxfordshire Artweeks
Oxfordshire Artweeks is just around the corner, and I’ll be showing at The Tree Barn, Christmas Common from 2–10 May.
As with last year, the artists will be working throughout the week, and we’re planning a few hands-on sessions that visitors will be able to book onto; more details soon.
Opening hours:
Tuesday–Friday: 12:00–6:00 pm
Saturdays & Bank Holiday Monday: 12:00–7:00 pm
Final Sunday: 12:00–3:00 pm
It’s always a relaxed, creative week and a lovely chance to talk properly about the work.
Other Dates for the Diary
Watlington Party in the Park — Saturday 27 June
I’m also hoping to add a few more local regular markets this year. If there are any you think Herridge Pottery would be a good fit for, I’m all ears.
Maker Spotlight — Marian Mills
This month’s Maker Spotlight is on Marian Mills, and I’m delighted that we’ll be showing alongside one another at the Tree Barn in May.
I have one of Marian’s paintings in my studio, a small cottage nestled amongst the Chiltern Hills, and it never fails to lift my spirits. Her palette is pure joy. Colours sing. Perspective tilts slightly. Familiar scenes feel freshly seen.
Marian herself carries the same energy as her paintings; bright, animated, slightly mischievous. She’s often laughing, sometimes at herself, sometimes at the world around her, rarely at others. That warmth runs straight through her work.
When I visit, I find her not in her outdoor studio but in her dining room. It’s too cold in February, she shrugs. The dining table is entirely hers; brushes, paint, works in progress, surrounded by shelves and walls filled with beautiful objects. If she’s hosting dinner, everything has to be moved. That practical reality has gently nudged her towards smaller works in recent years. Domestic life doesn’t compete with her art; it shapes it.
Marian studied fine art at university but stepped away from painting for many years while she worked and raised a family. Only in retirement did she feel she had the space to return. “I think when you paint you have to give it headspace,” she tells me. Not just time, headspace. Permission to immerse yourself fully.
We talk about perspective, how you can set up one still life for a room full of painters and every result will be different. We all arrive carrying our own emotions, habits, instincts and physical realities. She shares a story about a friend whose wonderfully loose, energetic style drew admiration. “I’m short sighted,” the friend laughed. “I can only paint like this because I can’t see it clearly!” We both dissolve into laughter. It’s such a perfect reminder that style is often simply a reflection of who we are.
Part way through our conversation, Colum, her husband, joins us briefly, and feedback becomes the topic. “Just move that over there…” he might suggest. “Just? JUST?!” Marian exclaims. “That would take me hours!” And yet, she admits, he’s often right. He might say it needs “a little red,” and reluctantly she’ll add it, and the painting lifts. Of course, there are also times she firmly tells him to bugger off. It’s a balance she’s learned over time: listening without losing her own instinct.
Her work has evolved over decades, but the vibrancy has always been there. Today she paints everyday domestic moments, a colander of fruit, a chair, a table, and through colour and subtle shifts in perspective they become quietly exuberant. Things aren’t always anatomically perfect or strictly aligned, but they don’t need to be.
At one point she gestures to a Matisse drawing behind me, anatomically incorrect, even slightly strange. But it works, she says, because it’s flowing and confident. That’s exactly how Marian’s paintings feel. The perspective may be askew, but the confidence carries them. You don’t question it, you simply enjoy it.
More recently she has returned to oil painting and “loves the feeling of painting with oil.” The slower drying time allows layers to mingle and shift unpredictably. It can be frustrating, she admits, but she relishes the depth it brings, a spontaneity that allows the painting to surprise her.
What I admire most is the joy. There’s no heaviness, no over-seriousness. Just colour, instinct and confidence, and the quiet mischief of someone who trusts her own eye.
If you’d like to see Marian’s work in person, we’ll both be showing at The Tree Barn, Christmas Common, from 2–10 May. I highly recommend spending time with her paintings, they have a way of making you smile.
The best way to keep up with Marians work and exhibitions is via Instagram: @marianmills.art
If there’s a maker, potter or otherwise, local or further afield, whose work you think deserves the spotlight, I’d love to hear from you. Just comment below with their name. And if I can get to their studio, I absolutely will! Stepping into someone’s creative space brings a whole new layer of insight. You see the context, the process, and what the work gives back to the maker, it’s always deeply rewarding.
A Little Treat for You
As a thank you for reading all the way down, here’s a small treat:
Use code NOTES09 for 10% off all handmade pottery online orders until Sunday 8th March.
If you’ve enjoyed this edition, feel free to forward it to a friend who loves handmade ceramics.
Until next time, Henrietta x