Craft

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As Norwegian designer Marit Tingleff’s work is included in a major exhibition about contemporary ceramics, Katie Treggiden investigates the resurgence of this ancient material among Norway’s artists, designers and craftspeople.

From 14 May, Salisbury’s New Art Centre will host Material Language: New Work in Clay, an exhibition of ceramic art, including work by Norway’s pre-eminent ceramic designer and professor of ceramics arts at Oslo National Academy of the Arts, Marit Tingleff. The exhibition reflects a growing movement towards the use of clay among contemporary Norwegian designers and makers.

Norway’s ceramics history is comparably short – whereas elsewhere people were using clay as early as 29,000 BC, Norwegians traditionally made domestic objects out of wood and iron. It wasn’t until potters from Germany and Holland arrived in Norway in the 16th century that the first potteries were established.

Porcelain factories, such as Porsgrund Porcelain Factory, began to appear on a larger scale in the 19th century, preceding what ceramic artist Anja Borgersrud describes as Norway’s “glory years” in ceramics 1920 – 1960. Nora Gulbrandsen was the country’s first female industrial designer and, from 1928 to 1946, head of design at Porsgrund. Tias Eckhoff designed the iconic det Riflede tableware at the same factory. Porcelain manufacturer Figgjo opened in 1941, quickly followed by earthenware factory Stavangerflint AS in 1949. Contemporary artists began to make ceramics in the Leach tradition – and in the 1960s young people opened workshops all over Norway.

“Because of this special history, Norwegians do not connect strongly to any particular ceramic tradition, which is liberating,” says Tingleff. “But it also means there is a limited knowledge about ceramics.”

Recent exhibitions such as 100% Norway at the London Design Festival and Structure during Milan Design Week suggest that that’s changing. “Young people want to develop their intellect and experience working with their hands, and clay has so many possibilities for this,” she adds. “Our students are exploring the material in radical ways, free from tradition and expectations, which is really interesting.”

Christina Peel is one such artist. She works with thin flexible porcelain sheets, which she folds into tessellating origami-inspired forms. “I love working with clay,” she says. “I love the diversity of the material, the textural qualities and the fact that it lasts forever.”

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Norway’s illustrators are stepping out from the pages of children’s books to take centre stage in the country’s creative industries. Katie Treggiden finds out what’s making illustration grow up.

Until relatively recently, Norway’s illustrations were tucked away between the pages of children’s books and old newspapers. In the 1960s, simple illustrations found their way onto designs such as Grete Prytz’s Enamel Lotus bowl for Cathrineholm, but it’s only in recent years that illustration has really stepped up to take its rightful place alongside graphic design and photography in the country’s creative industries – and business is booming.

Following early signs of life in the music and comic scenes of the 1980s, the start of the renaissance of this art form can perhaps be traced to 2004, when artists Lars Fiske and Steffan Kverneland published a book called Olaf G: A Life in Pictures, a celebration of the life and drawings of Norwegian cartoonist Olaf Gulbransson (1873 – 1958), who worked for Norwegian magazines such as Tyrihans, Pluk, Paletten, Fluesoppen, Sfinx, Tidens tegn and Trangviksposten before being headhunted by influential German magazine Simplicissimus, and spending a decade in Germany as one of its most well-known contributors. The pair were “enthralled by the genius of Gulbransson’s drawings and fascinated by his eccentric existence,” but disappointed that so few people in his native Norway had heard of him.

This renewed interest in their craft, combined with childhood memories of 19th century fairy stories illustrated by the likes of Theodor Kittelsen and Erik Werenskiold, seems to have inspired many budding illustrators to put pen to paper, but it is the subsequent breakthrough of illustration into commercial settings such as advertising, branding and packaging design that has convinced them to make a career of it – in such numbers that Ida Lund Bjørnsen founded illustration agency By Hands in 2010 to represent them. “People are much more aware of the diversity within the fields of illustration and visual communication,” she says. “We are riding a wave at the moment, with illustration being used extensively in advertising campaigns, and as part of business identities and on packaging. We live in a digital world where artists’ portfolios are being shared faster than ever, making them visible to a much bigger crowd. It’s incredible how fast things are moving.”

Norwegian graphic design and illustrator Magnus Voll Mathiassen agrees that the internet has had a big role to play. “That change in communication has had a direct impact on how people work now in contrast to 10-15 years ago,” he says. “[Norwegian] illustrators are now part of an international scene, and they have become more confident as a result.”

Despite most Norwegian illustrators siding with Kaltenborn and doubting the presence of a ‘Norwegian style,’ the themes Ida identifies are echoed in what many say about their work. “A lot is changing at the moment, and people are starting to use more vibrant colours and bold lines,” says illustrator Natalie Foss. “It’s hard to tell when you’re standing in the middle of it, but I’ve heard people say the Norwegian style is very fresh and vibrant, so maybe there is something in that – bold blocks of colour and simple, playful lines,” adds illustrator Mari Kanstad Johnsen. “There is often a playful naivety to Norwegian illustration,” agrees Bjorn Rune Lie, “but mixed with really good draftsmanship…a certain ‘confident looseness’.”

Max Estes is an American illustrator living and working in Nusfjord, a Norwegian village in the Arctic Circle with a population of just 38. Perhaps his ‘outsider’ perspective can help settle the debate: “I wouldn’t say there’s an overarching style as such, but contemporary Norwegian illustration is brimming with intelligence, charm, humour and wit,” he says. “Some illustrators are working toward a more minimal slant, others are keeping it playful and loose. Either way, for such a small country, Norway punches far above its weight in producing influential and memorable illustrators.”

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Katie Treggiden speaks to Newcastle-based design trio Novocastrian – a designer, an architect and a metal worker – putting their hometown firmly on the map.

With their debut collection at the London Design Festival’s designjunction and Newcastle’s Northern Design Festival, and an award for Best New Designer under their belts already, Novocastrian has burst onto the design scene with a singularly local approach to design and manufacture.

Location

Founded by designer Mark McCormick, architect Richy Almond, and metalworker Dean Almond, Novocastrian specialises in products that are inspired by and made in the North of England. “Our local history is a continual source of inspiration,” says Mark. “Repurposing forgotten craft, processes and techniques is hugely satisfying.” Their Staiths shelving unit was inspired by the iconic Dunston Staiths – industrial timber structures built in the River Tyne at the turn of the century to expedite the transfer of coal from rail to river. While their Binate tables comprise a blackened steel frame topped with either a slab of Cumbrian slate quarried 75 miles from their workshop or patinated brass. “We’re proud to source and fabricate in the UK, helping to retain skills that are rapidly dying out,” says Mark. “And clients are becoming less concerned solely with price, and more concerned with locally sourced, locally made pieces with a strong backstory.”

Collaboration

The team’s shared commitment to their local area is borne of a shared history. “Mark and I grew up together in the North East of England,” explains Richy. “We’ve long been inspired by each other’s work and have actively explored the ways in which our creative disciplines overlap – it was only a matter of time until the right idea fell into place.” Having chosen to study architecture despite a family business in industrial metal fabrication, Richy had also been exploring the overlap between architecture and metalwork. “In the end the solution was blindingly obvious,” he says. “We would simply start making things with metal.” Keen to explore the dialogue between designer and maker, they quickly brought Richy’s brother Dean, a metalworker, into their conversations and Novocastrian was born. “I’m really proud that we’ve found a way that we can work creatively with family and friends on a daily basis,” he says.

Process

It’s this unusual combination of skills that provides the key to their design and making process. It starts with research: “Exploring our forgotten local heritage is really inspiring,” explains Mark. Then comes design: “The hardest part is always the first move,” says Richy. “That awful sketch you need to get the process moving.” And after that it’s simply a matter of refining and improving. “Dean offers a practical influence during the design phase that allows us to work very efficiently,” he says of their philosophy, which embraces the maker’s viewpoint as much as the designer’s. “It’s vital that Richy and I stay close to the making process. As designers, we learn from Dean every time we develop a new piece.” For Richy, this fabrication phase is the most exciting part of the process: “The sparks, the noise, the energy of production, followed by the calm as each piece is revealed, still hot to the touch and ready for inspection,” he says. “After witnessing the creation of something, you see it differently. There’s a sense of energy embodied in it.”

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Graduate shows 2015: these utensils by Bezalel Academy of Art and Design graduate Dana Douiev enable the ceremonial preparation of traditional Ethiopian injera bread in a contemporary city kitchen.

Inerja is a traditional sponge-like fermented Ethiopian bread, surrounded in ritual and ceremony and made from an African grain called teff.

While it is still made in cities around the world, the ritual is lost because contemporary utensils don’t translate.

For example, an electric version of the hot plate used to cook the bread is too large and expensive for most homes, resulting in injera being made in single portions in normal kitchen pans.

“The preparation of injera holds a monumental place in the Ethiopian kitchen,” Douiev told Dezeen.

“Through in-depth research in Ethiopia and amongst Ethiopian communities in Israel, I understood that the future of teff and injera was at risk, which led me to the idea for my project.”

“Injera should be eaten together,” added the designer. “It creates conversation, trust and suits the tradition. Today injera is made with tools that are not dedicated to the injera ceremony.”

“The sourdough tool will often be a covered plastic bucket that does not tell anything about its rich culture. The pouring tool is often a tea pot or a measuring jug.”

Douiev worked under the guidance of professor Ido Bruno to design a set of specific utensils for the preparation of injera.

Taking design and material cues from the original utensils used over a fire in Ethiopian villages, she has updated the utensils for contemporary kitchens while preserving the ritual associated with making and sharing injera.

Her collection is made from African wenge wood, Teflon-coated aluminium and heat-resistant plastic.

Pieces in the range include a bowl with a perforated lid, a ladle, jug, and ring, as well as a hot plate with a lid. The hot plate also functions as a serving platter and a wall decoration.

The jug is influenced both by its traditional counterpart, usually made from a squash or gourd, and by a coffee pitcher that has a curved base.

This shape forces it to be placed on a ring – a reference to ancient tools placed on rings next to the fire. The ring also functions as a spoon holder, keeping the kitchen tidy while cooking.

The elongated shape of the spoon echoes sticks used in traditional fire-based cooking. “The stick has many functions in the African kitchen such as moving charcoals and stirring the food,” said Douiev.

“Through these utensils a new ceremony takes place, in which cultural elements are renewed,” said Douiev. “Elements that have been lost during the cultural migration from village to city, and from inside Ethiopia to foreign countries.”

“With the aid of designed objects which tell a story about a culture, heritage and functionality, I believe the properties of this ceremony can be passed on everywhere and to every generation,” she added.

Douiev isn’t the only designer rethinking kitchen utensils to preserve cultural traditions. Chinese designer Weiwei Wang created a portable tofu-making kit with specially adapted cooking implements, while Luca Nichetto and Lera Moiseeva designed a ceramic table set to enhance and reinterpret the ritual sharing of food.

Photography is by Oded Antman.

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London Design Festival 2015: Japanese ceramics designer Reiko Kaneko will show the results of three years of experimentation with porcelain glazing at this year’s London Design Festival.

Kaneko moved from London to the city of Stoke-on-Trent three years ago to hone her craft and is now showing the results of her experimentation for the first time.

Her Exploring Glaze collection comprises simple geometric white china forms overlaid with multiple reactive glazes, in a range of colours influenced by Japanese stoneware.

Kaneko described the glazes as having “their own life”. “The patterns they create have a familiarity to me, of moments in nature,” she explained.

Bone china is rarely glazed and was traditionally a white background for intricate hand-applied decorations and guilds.

“I’ve been told that it’s heresy to glaze on top of this prized whiteness,” Kaneko told Dezeen. “But I just think it’s a good background for the colours to stay true.”

“It doesn’t take away from the quality of the body and I also tend to leave white areas, which gives this striking contrast between the white and colour.”

The pieces are slip-cast, a process that involves pouring liquid clay into a mould and allowing it to harden. Each then goes through at least three firing processes, with oxides to provide colour and fluxes to control the melting points.

Glazes are more typically used on porcelain and stoneware, which are fired for a second time with the glaze on at a higher temperature than their initial “bisque” firing. The higher temperatures bring about reactions in the glaze that create strong colours.

Bone china’s glaze firing is at a lower temperature than its initial bisque firing, so creating strong colours in cooler conditions is a challenge.

“Getting any reactive work at all at lower temperature was the first focus, and as things developed I would fire items over and over again to get interesting results,” said Kaneko.

“The fun in glazing is that it is chemistry – just glass over ceramics, but it is absolutely unpredictable when the elements are combined and that makes mistakes incredibly fascinating at times.”

Since moving to Stoke-on-Trent – renowned for its pottery and ceramics – she has been perfecting this technique.

“A ceramic cluster from the industrial era is a unique heritage; information is in the air and I’m constantly calling on people with huge experience and knowledge – and patience,” she said.

“It’s been a steep learning curve and I’ve left a trail of failed experiments and processes that didn’t work out. But it’s enabled me to build up my own experiences with ceramics and its influence on my practice has been about that physical testing and understanding through trial and error.”

The Exploring Glaze exhibition will take place at the Elementary store on Redchurch Street in east London – part of the Shoreditch Design Triangle – during the London Design Festival from 19 to 27 September 2015.

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