Grudge Match: Branding vs. The Eyeroll

I've been reading with interest a conversation started by clay blogger Tracey Broome and chimed in by  Michael Kline over at Sawdust and Dirt. It's about branding and how it relates to studio artists, and seems to dovetail with the thoughts I've been mulling lately.

First, I have to make a confession: I don't exactly know what branding is. I mean, I know the definition of the word:

brand´ • ing : v., burning a mark into the skin of an animal (such as a cow) to show who owns the animal

Wait, that can't be right....they probably mean this sense of the word: 

brand´ • ing: n., :  the promoting of a product or service by identifying it with particular qualities or values. 

Which is all fine, but what I have trouble with is how it applies to a studio artist. I mean, it's great if I say I want people to think of my work as creative and well crafted, but...who doesn't? Nobody's slogan is, "I'm a Hack!" And the only way to claim those qualities is for the work to actually be creative and well crafted. Which I would do anyway. So I'm missing something, here.

To figure out what, I did some more reading. Most of what's out there on branding is positively eye-rolling for potters, and artists in general, because it's not really aimed at us. (Even the one aimed at artists was not much better.) Integrate your brand into how you answer your phone! That's if I ever did answer my phone, which I don't because it's never for me anyway. And here's a scary quote from the Bloomberg Business Week article: "Branding is about getting your prospects to perceive you as the only solution to their problem." Gaaaaaah! That is literally impossible for me. There are thousands of excellent potters from whom a person could purchase a sugar bowl.

Maybe I am being too literal.

Part of the problem is that obvious efforts at branding seem laughable and hokey. An artist with a tagline? Come on.  Cue the eye-roll.

Ouch! A thought just hit me, hard. Have you ever gone out with friends to Karaoke Night? Karaoke night is no fun if you can't quit rolling your eyes, drop your self-consciousness, and belt it out. Part of my resistance to the whole idea of branding is that it will be obvious what I am doing, and generate eye-rolls out there in TVland. But, so what? I love karaoke. I don't care who thinks I'm a cornball up there crooning Total Eclipse of the Heart.

But, flip! It does matter. The people who I need to like my work are pretty sophisticated. If I send out an email to stores or galleries, and the signature line contains a tagline, an eyeroll in that situation is near-fatal. It seems like any obvious attempt at branding could cause a potter - even a good one - to be perceived as a hack. A cornball hack.

It seems like I need to do more thinking on this matter. Back atcha tomorrow.

Do What You Love, Blah Blah Blah

I've been reading articles lately (here's one) on following your passion as a work/life choice, a topic which is very close to home for me. (Hey Captain Obvious! Missed you.) The full mantra is either "Do what you love. Love what you do" or "Do what you love and the money will follow." BWAAA-HAAAAA-HAAA-HA-HA!!! HAH! HA! HA!

Oh, my, let me catch my breathe a bit. That last one really hits me funny bone for some reason.

Smart assitude aside, I've been an advocate for this approach, never noticing the snobbery built into it. The aphorisms themselves suggest that if you find yourself doing a tedious or unpleasant job, it's because you were insufficiently dedicated to your passion. If only everyone would do what they love, then every job would be filled by passionate, enthusiastic people!

Except, no. Most jobs in the world are not especially lovable, but somebody still needs to do them. Somebody needs to assemble the iphones, if they are going to get assembled. Somebody needs to take away the rubbish. It's hard to imagine a person busing dishes as a calling because of their deep love of the work and dedication to being the best damn busboy ever. I'm not saying one should not do what they love; only that we should recognize the extraordinary privilege built into the freedom to make that choice.

Even me. Especially me.

I do what I love, yes. I make pottery and teach others to make pottery, and I love doing it. And the money has not followed from just loving what I do and my commitment to do it as well as it can be done, no. I've made the financial end work by hook or by crook, but it's an outright lie to imply that just dedication to a passion will cause the world to supply one with a living. The fact that we are still afloat owes much to middle class beginnings and privileges: I have a college education, and a mid-Atlantic accent that helps me interview very well when I have needed to grab a temp job to cover a shortfall. We made it through December because many of our Christmas presents were Hannaford gift cards (thank God), made possible because we have family who can afford to buy gift cards. Our car recently died, so we drove a vehicle borrowed from a friend who is traveling for a few months until we could replace it. Friends with resources are a privilege, too.

Right now I am struggling with whether I can continue to be potter in a full time way.  This is not a pity party (although the next time I have one, you'll surely get a gold-plated invitation and a ringside seat; I do love me a good pity party.) This is an observation: part of my struggle here is a sense of shame, that I might have to lower myself to do work which is merely work. And that is bullshit.

There is no failure there. I want to get past the reverence for creative pursuits above more mundane ones which makes me feel I am wasting the Gifts of the Magi or something if I decide that the necessary thing for me and my family is for me to get an office job. No more than I am wasting my talents as a receptionist (and I can joke about it, but I really was a very good receptionist) by spending my days with muddy hands.

This isn't a big announcement, and more likely than not I will find a way to keep on keeping on, because I am stubborn as hell and maybe a little selfish. Instead, this is  a shout-out to the folks whose work is purely work, an economic activity, and a reminder to myself not to devalue those whose jobs that are done of necessity rather than passion. If I join their ranks, I am still me, still a person, still making a contribution.

Looks like the Week of Reflection has begun.

Thursday Inspiration: Linda Styles

See lots more of Linda's amazing work here.

Whatcha Doin'?

As in previous years, I am using the relative freedom of January to work on some larger pieces. No one is waiting for orders or needing empty shelves filled in post haste, so I can take all the time I want with the stamps and slip bottles.

Also, the seed catalogs have arrived, sweet harbingers of spring, and my mind has leapt forward to the Maine Pottery Tour, which this year will be on the first weekend in May. I've got such a backlog of demo pots and minor seconds that I'm thinking to use the tour as a humongo-ginormous studio clearing sale. It's either that or Hammer Party, or possibly both, the one following the other.

Also, briefly, thanks muchly for all the kind inquiries which followed my post about depression. This could easily become the all-depression-all-the-time blog if I let it - and wouldn't that be a treat - but suffice it for now to say that I am functional, some days better than others. I have ideas for more informative blog posts - demos, videos, etc. - but those are still a little too daunting to tackle. For now, I am working, which is always a good sign. I'm also lurking on all of your blogs, which helps me feel connected.

A few more pots in progress:

How are you spending your January freedom?

PS. I could have sworn I'd already done a photo tutorial a couple of years ago on the Jaunty Jars - the ones with the tipsy lids. But I can't find it, so maybe I just thought so much about it I convinced myself I'd already done it. Anyway. It's on the list. 

Thursday Inspiration: Megan Mitchell

See lots more of Megan's intriguing work here.

New Pots!

I want to thank everyone for being so kind after my last post, about depression. I won't say I'm over it - though I wish I could - but some days are better than others. Today didn't suck. Most of it, anyway.

Yesterday I took a U-Haul (did I mention my car died a couple of weeks ago?) to collect up my pots and shelves from the pop-up Holiday Pottery Shop in Gardiner, which closed on December 24th. The shop did okay but the weather was against us; we lost a couple of weekend days, and the last three shopping days before Christmas due to storms and poor conditions. And it was a shorter retail season to begin with. A thing I noticed: people were buying smaller things: ornaments, magnets, pendants, like that. Next yer I will keep it in mind. Also, non-pottery items seemed to do well. Next year I will have soap.

As an aside, I think the soap is finally at a level that I would feel okay selling it. When the newest batch - Cocoa Loco - is ready, I'll post some bars for sale.

Anyway. I still have lots of pots left, and pretty good ones if I do say so myself, so I photographed a few to refresh the website. Today was one of those winter days when it never quite gets light, so the pics were pretty dark - I had to lift them using Picasa. They are still accurate, color-wise, but not the best photos I ever took:

Orange Butter Dish Blue Dots

Cream Butter Dish with Teal Dots

Bowl with patterned exterior

Oribe Butter Dish with Stripes

Blue Butter Dish with Gray/Orange Dots

The Week of Reflection Has Been Indefinitely Postponed

Normally the week between Christmas and New Year's is when I do my best thinking. It's a kind of limbo in which the old year is kind of over, with the big bang of Christmas - but the new has not begun. I look back, consider what I did well and what I could have done better, and think about what I'd like to achieve, and who I'd like to be in the New Year.

Yeahno, not happening this year. My one reflection is more of a confession, one which will come as no surprise to those who know me personally: the truth is I spent much of the latter half of 2013 down the rabbit hole of depression, my old nemesis. The further truth is, I'm not out yet.

Depression, as you may have noticed, is not great for blogging. I hate the sound of my own voice and everything I type sounds insipid, so after a while I just stop. Add to that, I'm just about as broke as it's possible to be and still be under a roof, so basically anything I do that doesn't make money seems self-indulgent. There are a lot of heads depending on me to keep that roof up there. Not even sure how pottery is going to fit in, if I'll have to get a job...it's all too much to think about.

My husband and nephew went out of state to my in-laws for the holiday. I had planned to go as well, but then the ice storm took out our power around 11 pm on the 23rd, and I felt someone should stay with the pets and the house, to guard against frozen pipes and other calamities. I also felt there was no point all of us being cold. I'm sort of a grinch even in the best years, so missing out on all the Christmas festivities was no hardship; in fact in other years I have thought of a couple of days alone in my house as my Christmas gift to myself. This year, sitting in the increasingly cold dark, wondering when or if the heat and light would return, I thought I had inadvertently created my internal world on the outside.

But then I saw the flashing yellow lights go by around 9 pm. Unfortunately for my corny little metaphor - but very fortunately for myself and the four-legged ones - CMP had come to my neighborhood. As so often happens in this mental state, I sort of hate myself for even having depression: tens of thousands of people in Maine are still in the cold dark, what have I got to be depressed about?

In what might be a positive sign, I spent the day cleaning the house, which had gotten into a dreadful state. My husband and nephew are both slobs, and my choices are a) clean up after them; b) nag them daily; or c) just leave it. I lost energy to fight that battle sometime after Thanksgiving. It's clean now, though, and it feels so much better.

Not sure I'll post this; if I do it's unlikely that I'll leave it up long, because as soon as I re-read it I'll delete it as despicable whining. Or whinging; the British way sounds even lower. I still have a few days to fight my way out; I'd hate to start 2014 this way.

Last Load, 2013

I've spent the last few days smoothing bottoms, grinding woogies, sorting, pricing and packing. Most of these pots are destined for stores: the Holiday Pottery Shop, a pop up store I participate in with about a dozen other clay artists; Portland Pottery's Holiday Sale; Summer Island Studio; and of course Kennebec River Artisans. 
Lots of butterdishes in this load! Also mugs, and mixing-sized bowls. I may grab a few minutes to take better photos of my favorites this afternoon.

The mad Christmas rush starts early for potters, and ends early, too. It's too late for me to make work for this shopping season, so I am relaxing a bit, and making soap. It's also too late to sell soap for Christmas, as it requires at least a couple of weeks, even by the quicker process, to cure. I give it as gifts to family and friends. I've made two batches so far: a Kiwi Lime that turned purply-brown - in my impatience, I think I had the batch too hot - and a much more successful Coconut Bar. They looked like this:

Soap is like ceramics, in that it's all applied chemistry. Making soap is also like soda firing specifically, in that I can do everything the same and get different results, and like soda firing, this is both a good thing and a bad thing.I'll probably make a couple more batches before coming back to clay: the stretch between now and the end of February is fun for me because I can concentrate on making larger, more detailed pieces, like the Bustier Baskets, because I am deadline-free. (Also nearly cash-free, but that's another story.)

Today is all pricing and packing for the Portland Pottery event, which opens tomorrow night. The sale is open to the public Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, the 13th, 14th, and 15th. If you're in Southern Maine, check it out! If you are closer to Gardiner, maybe you'd like to visit the Holiday Pottery Shop, at 287 Water Street.

Silver Lining Made of Mucus

I woke up on Tuesday of this week with a painful sore throat, but decided to just power though - no sick time for classes, and I sure as shit can't afford to not get paid. So, give me some throat lozenges and I'm off! That actually went okay most of the day - you know how sometimes you feel better once you get moving - but around 8:30 pm I hit a wall, and ended up bagging out a few minutes early. My students cleaned my wheel, bless their hearts.

I spent the day in bed Wednesday, though I could ill afford that, either, with holiday events coming up, but sometimes your body just says, "Tough shit. You're down, and you're staying down. Get used to it." Thursday was better and I again scraped myself together enough to get to class. There was that little matter of the delay caused by a plane landing on the interstate, but wevs, it was fine.

I swear there's a point to this recitation. Oh, and here it is!

On Friday, still sick but a little better, and unwilling to give up another working day, I spent the day in bed compiling the Glaze Notebook! You remember: the popular reward for Kickstarter backers, that was due in September? Yeah.

Like so many things, it seemed daunting before I started. Most of the testing and revising work is done, so really it was just assembling the best recipes and typing up notes on firing. And like so many things, it's fun once you get started. I want to thank my backers for their patience, and I hope it's worth the wait. I expect to have PDFs out by the end of the month [edit: turned out to be by the end of the day! :)], and hard copies going out shortly after that. Once those are all completed, the Fine Mess Glaze Notebook will be available for general purchase.

Thanks again.

Thursday Inspiration: Marion Peters Angelica

Last spring I renewed my intermittent subscription to Pottery Making Illustrated. I like the magazine, as well as its older cousin Ceramics Monthly, but magazine subscriptions are not always in the budget. I chose PMI over CM because I am often looking for ideas for class demos; some of my students have taken my classes many times over, and I like to be able to show them something new once in a while.

November's issue features a how-to for slab-built champagnes flutes which are clever and elegant, but easy enough for beginners to do. I demonstrated these for my classes last week, and saw some delightful pieces come out of those sessions.

The author of the article, Marion Peters Angelica, makes tons of amazing slab-built things, in addition to the champagne flutes that were the focus of the article. Lookie here:

See lots more of this potter's amazing work at MarionAngelica.com.

This One's For You...

...Liz Proffetty, of Liz Proffetty Ceramics! I am sending out this, the last of the Kickstarter mugs today, as well as two last teabowls, to some very patient backers. This mug is going to my potter buddy Liz because I think she will love the delicate colors.

The glaze recipe book is almost done as well, needing only a good ^6 version of Shino Sauce. It's still on my list to write a post about the last firing, in particular the test glazes. It ain't happening today but I might get to it tomorrow!

Psssst!

Anybody wanna buy pots?

The light was perfect for my living room to become my ad hoc photography studio, so I shot some pics and posted new items on my website this afternoon. It was a brilliant sunny day, very warm for mid-Ocotber, and I can think of ways I would rather have spent it than all the fiddly tapping and clicking that is website work, but I keep remi
nding myself that if I had a straight job, I'd go to work rain or shine, no matter how shiny. Discipline!

Here are the new items. Click the photos to see more:

Pop quiz: can you tell which of these items are ^6, and which ^10? Oh, speaking of: several of the ^6 glaze tests came very nice out of the recent firing, including Tenmoku, Amber Celadon, and Magic White. Soda Cobalt was a little puny, and my ^6 version of Shino Sauce was...well, it was different, as they say in Minnesota. I've lost my light, so photos will have to wait until tomorrow. (Aside: is it weird that Blogger does not recognize the word celadon? Tenmuko I can understand; oribe, shino, sure. But celadon? That's just the name of a color. You'll find it in, like, the J. Crew catalog. Huh.)