Mel Robson is a ceramics artist based in Brisbane, Australia. She has a bachelor of visual arts from Southern Cross University, Lismore, and an advanced diploma of arts (Ceramics) from the Southbank Institute of Technical And Further Education (TAFE) in Brisbane. She works mostly in porcelain, and creates gorgeous work that is both functional (e.g., bowls, cups, plates) and nonfunctional (e.g., guns, pigeons, and flowered cutlery!). Mel has exhibited her work extensively, both in Australia and overseas, including stops in Korea, Japan, Sweden, and the United States, just to name a few. She attributes her inspiration to some wonderful women in her family—charming characters who have been the starting point for much of her lovely work.
JC—Have you always wanted to be an artist?
MR—I never really planned on being an artist. It was a surprise to me. And probably to most people who knew me. I’m not quite sure how it happened. But I guess it’s the way I process things. Making things helps me process my thoughts and experiences.
JC—When did you start to think of yourself as an artist?
MR—I think it was when I sold my first works in an exhibition while still a student. I was euphoric that someone would actually pay money for something I had made. That made me an artist! It was a short-lived sense, however, when I found out the next morning that it was my mother who had bought the work (bless her cotton socks)!
JC—That is fantastic! Well, clearly she loves your work! Which artist’s work do you love?
MR—An Australian ceramicist named Kirsten Coelho. I have two of her pieces, and they thrill me on a daily basis. It’s hard to put my finger on it exactly—everything about them just speaks to me—the forms, the surfaces, the simplicity, the nod to nostalgia and days gone by. There is a serenity in her pieces that just makes me take a big, deep breath and stop for a moment.
JC—What inspires you?
MR—I am mostly inspired by the very daily things around me. No great wild inspirations. Just the simple stuff. It’s easy to overlook that for seemingly bigger and greater things. But there’s a lot of meaning in the ordinary, the small, and the everyday.
I also spend a lot of time in libraries. Sometimes I go to research a specific thing for my work. Other times I just go and browse, and graze, and wander. There’s always something weird and wonderful to be found among those shelves—endless sources of inspiration. Sometimes the most unexpected things jump out at me and take me off in a new direction. Every time I walk into a library I get butterflies in my belly.
JC—Besides a visit to the library, do you have a trick for getting “unstuck”?
MR—Yes. Talking out loud. Sometimes just saying things out loud can give you a little more clarity than the masses of foggy things floating around in your head. It’s nice to be able to talk it through with someone, but if no one is around I’ll talk to myself. I think it’s just verbalizing the problem that seems to shift things for me.
JC—Is that your main method for getting through a creative block?
MR—I don’t have one method for pushing through—each time is different. Sometimes I shove things into the back of my mind and let my subconscious do its thing. Other times I have to just keep making and making and push through it. I often have breakthroughs in my sleep. I put it in my mind as I nod off and then wait for those lucid dreams in the wee hours of the morning. It works surprisingly well. Those lucid hours can result in some remarkable ideas and answers and unblockages. Deadlines are also effective!
JC—Would you ever give up on a piece, or do you persevere?
MR—One of the difficult things in working with clay is that it can look really ugly until it has gone through the final firing process. Then it is transformed. So mostly I try to persevere and not give up too early. Give the piece a chance. But, sure, sometimes you have to just accept when something is not happening. I am pretty tenacious though. I don’t like a material to get the better of me and will persevere until I figure it out.
JC—Do you ever equate your self-worth with your artistic successes?
MR—I think I probably did a little when I was younger, and when I first started out, but not so much now. Making art is only one part of who I am and what I do. It’s important to remember that, but easy to forget, because so much of who you are and what you think is invested in what you make. It is a reflection of yourself in many ways. But like anything, it’s about balance and about keeping things in perspective. I try not to take it all too seriously.
JC—What’s your advice for handling criticism?
MR—I think it’s important to remember that making art is a process. It is never finished. The occupation itself is one of process, exploration, and experimentation. It is one of questioning and examining. Each thing you make is part of a continuum, and you are always developing. You don’t always get it right, but I find that approaching everything as a work in progress allows you to take the good with the bad. You’re never going to please everyone. Take what you can from criticism, and let go of the rest. When it comes to constructive criticism, I welcome that and think it is important to have people you can discuss your work with who will give you honest and constructive feedback. It’s not always what you want to hear, but that is often exactly what is needed. It can be very confronting, but very useful.
I was euphoric that someone would actually pay money for something I had made. . . . I found out the next morning that it was my mother who had bought the work (bless her cotton socks)!
