Hands on the wheel

A couple of weeks ago, I got some hands-on experience of the potter’s wheel (or Wheel Throwing, to use the technical term). I’ve played around with modelling clay before, but this was probably my first attempt at ceramics, and certainly the first experience of wheel throwing. The result (so far) can be seen in the photo below…

The class was a 2.5 hour introductory workshop, conducted by Little Woods Studio in Collingwood (via WeTeachMe), and I highly recommend it. I don’t think I was any good, but that’s not the point. The only pot I managed to make (shown above) is actually quite small, and wouldn’t have happened without a lot of direct assistance from the instructor, who was incredibly patient.

Learning the physical technique of throwing, fixing and initially shaping the clay on the wheel is a skill in itself that needs more than a couple of hours to achieve a consistent level of proficiency.

Then there are the many variables to consider – the quality of the clay and whether it has been prepared sufficiently; the amount of water to use, and how much arm and hand pressure to apply; the stability and responsiveness of the wheel; the height of wheel and stool; and probably the weather (barometric pressure). Then there is knowing when and how quickly to start bringing up the sides of the pot, what thickness of base to settle on, and what wheel speed to achieve – too often, I ended up collapsing the walls just as was beginning to shape the rim; or I applied too much bracing support from my arms so that my hands ripped the clay off the wheel again. (Is this where the phrase, ‘to throw a wobbly’, comes from?)

And this is all before the two-stage process of firing and glazing, when anything might happen to cause the pot to crack or crumble. Hopefully, in a couple of weeks, I’ll be able to pick up the finished item, a souvenir of my first (and probably only) pottery class.

If nothing else, I now have a huge respect for potters, and a greater appreciation for the fruits of their labours.

Next week: William Kentridge – Modern Polymath

Let There Be Light

Q: What do a selection of 19th century oil paintings, a 50-year old piece of 16mm film, and a 21st century carpet have in common?

A: They are all exhibits in ACMI’s winter show, “Light”, based on works from the Tate’s Collection.

Image: James Turrell, “Raemar, Blue” (1969) on display at ACMI (Photo by Rory Manchee)

Despite ACMI’s brief to showcase the moving image, only three of the art works in the exhibition consist of film. A few more incorporate movement in the form of kinetic sculptures. But otherwise, this is mostly a collection of paintings and photography (and yes, a carpet).

Does it work? Yes, because just as light can be regarded as an essential building material, the use, portrayal and capture of light is essential to render colour, shadow, depth, perspective and narrative in all forms of art.

Arranged thematically, by theory or technique of how light is represented and rendered in art, the exhibition is both diverse and cohesive. It avoids the risk of overload because the selection is quite compact (given the wide remit of the topic). It also avoids choosing works based on technical prowess alone. Therefore, the exhibition succeeds through the combined principles of quality over quantity, and content over form.

It was timely to see mention of The Enlightenment as a key source of artistic exploration, as well as being a driver in the fields of of scientific discovery and liberalism. The exchange of ideas between and across different disciplines has always been essential to progress in the sciences, the arts and the humanities.

My favourite exhibits among the works I hadn’t seen before were by Olafur Eliason, Lis Rhodes and Peter Sedgley. And it’s always a pleasure to immerse yourself in one of James Turrell‘s installations. The only slight disappointment was that visitors are kept at quite a distance from Yayoi Kusama‘s The Passing Winter, an intriguing cube-shaped sculpture that is like one of her infinity rooms in miniature. The last time I saw it in London, it was possible to peer right in to get the full effect.

All in all, highly recommended.

Next week: Hands on the wheel

Literary triggers

Reading for pleasure should be a joy in itself. But to read a book and then be drawn into somewhat tangential (and even trivial) thoughts triggered by personal recollections is an added bonus.

That was partly my reaction when reading Jonathan Coe’s marvelous novel “Mr Wilder and Me”. Ostensibly a fictional account about the making of one of Billy Wilder’s final films, set in Greece and France in the mid-1970s, it manages to incorporate many themes – Hollywood, the creative process, migration, family, the Holocaust, ageing, travel – without selling any of them short. Happily, it’s now being made into a film itself, which confirms the strong narrative at the core of the book. I look forward to seeing it when it is released.

For myself, the novel prompted three travel-related memories:

1. Just like a key time in the novel, my first visit to Greece was also a few years after the collapse of the military junta – currency restrictions, banks only open a couple of hours a day, rationing of hot water in the hostel where I was staying, and construction projects abandoned unfinished because of their association with the military regime

2. The narrator’s love of cheese, stemming from an impromptu visit to a Brie maker, brought back memories of many trips to Paris in the 80s and 90s, and visits to bars like La Tartine, and trying the different types of crottin

3. On my first trip to California, I was fortunate enough to have drinks at the Hotel del Coronado, the setting for Billy Wilder’s most famous film, “Some Like It Hot”, and an iconic resort facility in San Diego Bay.

Seemingly unconnected, yet all evoked by a single work of fiction.

Next week: Let There Be Light

Mopping up after the LNP

The incoming Labor government in Australia is currently enjoying a post-election honeymoon period. And while the new Prime Minister has spent about as much time overseas as he has been at home, there is sense that domestically, something has changed under Mr Albanase.

First, the strident, discordant and caustic tone of federal politics is subtly being dialled down, even if much of the same partisan rhetoric remains. Second, it has been suggested that Mr Albanese is seeking to evoke the spirit of Bob Hawke rather than looking for inspiration from either of his immediate ALP predecessors. Both Kevin Rudd and Julia Gillard were technocrats (rather than being natural politicians) and neither of them enjoyed a solid or stable power base within their own party (hence, they were both rolled while in office). Third, there does not appear to be any radical departure from the previous LNP administration, apart from a commitment to an indigenous voice in Parliament, a plan to establish a federal anti-corruption commission, and a greater focus on renewable energy.

Of course, the new administration faces a number of challenges in the budget deficit and in key areas of economic activity, most of which they have inherited from the outgoing LNP government. Federal largesse (in the form of industry subsidies, public grants, welfare payments and pandemic handouts) is under pressure. The era of “cheap money” is coming to end as we witness higher inflation, lower unemployment, skills shortages, and a very mixed set of economic results. Interest rates are on the way up to try and prevent parts of the economy overheating, and are designed to reduce both borrowing and retail spending. But there is a risk that higher interest rates will result in a decline in house prices and an increase in mortgage stress; and reduced discretionary consumer spending may dent employee expectations of wage growth. Despite the low level of unemployment, there can be no reasonable hope of higher wages without an accompanying increase in productivity. Perhaps the issue is that too many people have fewer hours of employment than they want or need, while those already in full-time employment seek to maximise the amount of work they have. Or productivity gains are difficult to achieve in sectors where wages are the biggest input cost, or where operating margins are already very thin, or where investment in technology has been lacking.

Despite the increase in domestic travel and tourism during and since the height of the pandemic in 2019-21, we should remember that domestic borders were also closed for extended periods. As a result, local tourism was hit hard, and even as things started to open up again, the hospitality industry struggled to find staff or was unable to operate economically due to capacity limits – and a lot of small operators haven’t come back.

I would expect to see bankruptcy numbers to rise – especially among sole-proprietors and SMEs (the latter of whom, in aggregate, account for the bulk of employment by headcount). This is always a lag economic indicator, given the time it takes for insolvencies and liquidations to work through the system. Despite the overall increase in the number of business in 2020-21 (see table below), 93.0% of businesses had turnover of less than $2 million, and 28.7% of businesses had turnover of less than $50,000. There was a 12.5% increase in businesses with turnover of less than $50,000, and only a 0.5% increase in businesses with turnover of $5 million to $10 million and $10 million or more. Given that 81.7% of exiting businesses had turnover of less than $200,000, there is a likelihood that more businesses will go under. This period is going to be especially challenging for sole traders and SME owners who typically mortgage their principal home to fund their business. The next ABS business entry/exit report in August will be very interesting.

Past stimulus packages have been spent on household goods (computers, mobile phones, HDTVs, etc.) that aren’t manufactured in Australia; or put towards the mortgage; or saved for a rainy day – and it’s highly likely a similar pattern emerged with the recent pandemic-related measures. All of which means their net effect on the domestic economy and the balance of payments was probably negligible. Sure, during the pandemic some consumer spending was diverted from things like overseas travel towards domestic purchases, but recent data suggests consumers are cancelling their internet streaming services and curbing their on-line shopping (in part because they are no longer working from home).

During the federal election campaign, one of the few areas of economic “policy” that both ALP and LNP ventured was the promise of financial incentives for first-time home buyers. The idea being, I suppose, helping people onto the property ladder enables them to establish long-term household wealth, while taking some pressure off the rental market. Although there has been a softening in city house prices, price increases in some regional areas have more than compensated for those recent declines (thanks to an urban exodus from cities like Melbourne and Sydney). If you’ve just paid at the top of those regional markets, and now face interest rate hikes (as well as coming off introductory fixed mortgage rates), I’m sure this will bring a new layer of mortgage stress.

Finally, it’s still not clear where the wage growth will come from (apart from a lift in the minimum wage?). Businesses (especially SMEs) that struggled during lock-down won’t easily be able to afford pay rises, and the skills shortages are in many areas where there is a lack of local talent, so increased skilled immigration quotas may actually depress salaries. Something of a vicious circle.

Next week: Literary triggers