57. Emily Hett: Creating Joy Through Clay

Coastal memories are important to Jeweller Hannah Louise Lamb - she grew up in Cornwall and now lives and works on the east coast of Scotland, but it's other people's coastlines that are central to her business. Hannah has been making her hand-pierced coastline jewellery for over twenty years, and she's built her business the long way round: posting envelopes of slides to every gallery listed in the back of Crafts magazine, doing every craft fair going, and recently making the difficult decision to leave Not On The High Street after nearly two decades, because it no longer felt like the place that championed makers. She is also an avid supporter of the galleries and independent stores that stock her work: When someone messages her because they've fallen for one of her rings in a gallery, her answer is simple: "Well, please go to the gallery and buy it there." There's no way, she told me, that she'd take that sale for herself. "We're all in it together. It's a collaboration, not a competition." As a gallery owner, I could have hugged her. In our lovely chat we discuss: Hannah's stumbling into Glasgow School of Art's degree show as a teenager Throwing away her sketchbooks halfway through her final year, and finding her voice in the contrast between Glasgow's grid of streets and Cornwall's wiggly coastline Artist residencies at Edinburgh College of Art and a boarding school in Rutland, whilst saving up for an MA the Royal College of Art Setting up in a shared studio in Leith with a group of entrepreneurial jewellers who said yes to everything Writing to every gallery in the back of Crafts magazine with envelopes of slides, and the grant panel that had to tell her to buy a computer Leaving Not On The High Street after nearly twenty years, and why visibility on marketplaces has changed Why she sends gallery customers back to the gallery, and sees makers and galleries as collaborators Why sale or return works for her, and why she doesn't want her work discounted on someone else's shelf Living other people's memories through bespoke coastline commissions, and the late-night emails that come with them

A handful of ceramic animals and a walk along a road of Tudor houses are just two of the steps on Amanda Banham's path to becoming the much loved and in demand ceramic artist she is today. Amanda is best known for her collectable raku-fired ceramic houses, each with its own story, which she makes in her studio in Saffron Walden in the east of England. Her route there took in floristry, teaching horse riding, a farm in Cornwall, four children and an illustration degree, before a single talk at university - by an illustrator who also made the aforementioned ceramic animals - sent her back to clay. In this very lively and entertaining episode, we talk about: Discovering pottery and other crafts at her beloved 1970s village primary school, and then barely touching clay again for years Her university course in Illustration coming to The university talk where an illustrator pulled out a handful of tiny ceramic animals, and Amanda went home and announced she was going to be a potter Her first terrifying but rewarding fair with Anglian Potters which included putting up the marquee but selling almost everything (probably for less than it cost to make) How the houses began: reluctant afternoon dog walks along Castle Street, peering into wonky Tudor windows and inventing the people inside The first houses-only sale, which she was sure was ridiculous, and which sold out in about an hour Why she sells once a month (the kiln has to be full), Her January commission slots, which bring in money up front at the quietest time of year The real-home commissions she now turns down, and the American veranda house that took a month and a lot of tears Instagram fatigue, and deciding to go back to what she actually enjoys Why she feels she's been "on ice skates" ever since primary school, and her advice to any business: get a dog, and protect time for laughter

Before she was a painter, Tamara Williams spent 25 years running a successful London design agency - it was a career she loved, creating work for a wide range of clients including Marks & Spencer and Burberry. It was only after selling the business that she discovered printmaking, and a happy accident with plaster of Paris that led, eventually, to painting. Tamara shares her journey and the serendipity of discovering her passion for painting. We also talk about the realities of running a creative business and how, despite building a design practice, there was no cross over with the art world; a world she says that really has no rules! In this episode, Tamara and I talk about: Being inspired to study graphic design by her older sister ten years who introduced her to the work of Saul Bass and Milton Glaser when she was still a child. Going freelance almost by accident in 1989, hiring a cupboard-sized studio near Oxford Circus, and growing the agency from two people - and a dog - into a successful 25-year business The plaster of Paris experiment that started everything - an attempt to transfer printmaking images without a press, that produced textures and effects she could never have planned Taking up the suggestion of her friend and ceramicist Ali Tomlin https://www.alitomlin.com/ to take part in her first trade show at Top Drawer, at London's Olympia; being terrified but coming away with her first order book and her first ever conversations with gallery owners Launching RubyKite, the silk scarf brand she co-founded with a friend, and the decision - after six wonderful years - to close it this December Learning, the hard way, to say no to galleries: "It's really difficult to maintain creativity if you feel like you're a hamster on a wheel" Having her painting Leave No Trace accepted into the 2025 Royal Academy Summer Exhibition, and the extraordinary tradition of Varnishing Day Why she believes artists need a "visual compass" for their own work. The business discipline she brought from design - timesheets, pricing, strategic thinking - and why creativity and commercial thinking aren't opposites

When CAN you call yourself a ceramicist? Kate Clark's @K_ceramics beautiful hand carved ceramics are sold across the country, from the Outer Hebrides to Cornwall, and even over to France. Her many fans include three generations of one family who all independently buy her work; and she still doesn't quite think she's earned the word "potter." She still adds that she's "also a Graphic Designer, as that's what my degree is in." In our lovely chat, Kate talks openly about her journey to being a full time ceramicist: "I've had loads of lessons, I've been taught by fantastic people," she told me, "but I haven't got the stamp, as it were." But when you're making - and selling exquisite work - what more of an endorsement do you need? Kate's passion for pottery began while living with her family in New York City, she followed her kids to an after-school pottery class, fell in love watching them make things, asked if adults could join in, and never really left. She says her first bowl was awful but her teacher persuaded her to persevere and then it clicked. We also talk about: Re-inventing yourself in a new city The buzz of selling your work to people who fall in love with it Learning to throw from two different teachers on opposite sides of Manhattan, then not owning a wheel of her own until lockdown forced her hand Why hand-carving makes almost every piece one of a kind - and why that's a nightmare to price, because "it's not just that piece, it's planning the carving, it's the act of doing The stockist who spent months patiently waiting for Kate to feel ready, after Kate turned down several early offers because being asked for stock felt overwhelming The particular strain of imposter syndrome that seems to follow talented ceramicists specifically - despite years of teaching, a beautifully considered brand, and genuinely excellent work The message from a customer that told her three generations of one family buy her work, and why that means so much to her Bringing her graphic design background into building a considered, cohesive ceramics brand from the very first pot she ever labelled

Painting shop shop-window mannequins in Chelsea is not a traditional way to learn the art of blending oil paints, but it's just one of the steps on Sally Hirst's journey to becoming both an artist and a hugely popular tutor.