POTTER ABOUT HORNSEA
Heritage on the High Street
Key Stage 3/4 Lesson Plan: Teachers_pack_2.pdf (639 KB) | |
File Size: | 638 kb |
File Type: |
Resource: Lines_and_Charisma_Leaves_for_Brick.pdf (52 KB) | |
File Size: | 52 kb |
File Type: |
Resource: Templates_for_Bricks.pdf (158 KB) | |
File Size: | 158 kb |
File Type: |
Pottery Poetry by Mary Aherne
The Artisan Garden Welcome, visitors, to Hornsea’s Pocket Garden, little haven of tranquillity on Newbegin. Take your time and, most importantly, look down, explore the bricked floor beneath your feet. What are these shapes and symbols, these shards? Repeating rows of flowers and leaf motifs compete with staring fish-eyes, scores of vertical lines. This is no ordinary garden. It has designs on you; asks you to contemplate the world of calcined kaolin, of moulds; the chore of sponging and fettling, and just how jolly was the job of jiggering and jolleying? To imagine the Pottery worker’s day, feathering contrasting coloured bands of slip on clay. 4 Victoria Avenue An old Victorian terrace near the sea front, that’s where it started. Two brothers modelling plaster-of-Paris ‘fancies’ in the scullery to sell as souvenirs to Hornsea’s rising tide of tourists. It’s 1949, and everyone’s still reeling, dealing with the aftermath of war: CC41 utility clothing, power cuts, meals of spam and snoek, fresh meat rations down to 10d a week. Bombed out and bankrupt – not the most auspicious time to start a pottery. A second-hand kiln, size of a biscuit tin, was installed in the coal store and when fired it melted the butter in the adjoining pantry. Now they were cooking, working with clay. Soon posy troughs, pink elephants, clogs, Tommy Twaddle and Sam Thatcher Toby jugs filled the shelves in the old wash-house. Colin modelled while Desmond delivered these quirky bits and bobs in his old banger. Those early days recorded in black and white: serious men in overalls shaping moulds, a young chap who cycled every day from Beverley kept busy mixing clay by hand in an old tin bucket. Listen! You can almost hear the purr of the Catterson Smith, white-hot heart of the Hornsea Pottery. Sprayers, Jolleyers, Spongers and Fettlers Sprayers, jolleyers, spongers and fettlers recall the glory days when pottery put Hornsea on the map. Geoff the jolleyer made between three and five thousand mugs a day. Tony the mould maker earned a fiver a week, 12/6 more that he got delivering groceries for the Co-op. May loved spraying the fauna, and then the Elegance. Sprayed a gold leaf on some special ashtrays for Hull Brewery. Herbert’s first job was on the biscuit kiln and ‘the girls’ were busy sponging and fettling. John drove the kids round in the minibus while Joan led tours, sold seconds in the factory shop. All of Lydia’s family worked there – Mum and Dad and sister Ruth. Dad pulled pints in the ‘Good Companions’ club; Mum had her own plate-making machine. What Lydia loved was jolleying, while friend Jean stuck handles on the mugs hour after hour all day long with spits of slip and a little brush. Went like clockwork. You had to be quick. |
Below is a poem written by Hornsea School and Language Student, Quinlan Gillespie, about the Pottery: In a dark brown box a forgotten treasure lies in the murky cellar, Trying to find a new light to quench the darkness, Looking for a friend to help out with its burden And reminiscing the height of its life At the beginning, the crown jewel of a extremely large collection, The famous Israelite Statue the only one of its kind No one could tell what terrors were to unfold The crash of the business, the debt and the depression A dreamer looking to the future Because it knows that it’s going to reclaim its former glory This is why I tell this story To help the fantasy become reality. Quinlan Gillespie |