It all started in the summer of 2001. I was exhibiting at a potters fair at Moulins la Marche in the north of France, where each year they invite two guest potters/ceramic artists from a different country. That year they had invited Francis Boateng and Samuel Lovi, both from the Accra region of Ghana. While there Francis said “And if there are any potters who would like to make a return trip to Ghana…….” . Well, there was me. Because of other commitments on both my time and money I couldn’t go straight away but said I would go at the beginning of 2003. Francis admits to not really believing that I would ever get there, but I did, My eighteen year old daughter Helen came with me as she is currently working with me learning ceramics. Francis and I planned to work together for several weeks then hold a joint exhibition of Francis´ sculptures of people, and my animal figures.
Francis also told me about this wonderful person, Aba, and about Aba House, and suggested we participate in a ceramic furniture workshop that would take place while I was in Ghana. I thought it was a good idea, though the idea of making ceramic furniture had never really entered my head before. Aba arrived shortly after we did, and also offered me the possibility of doing some of my work towards the exhibition there.
Working part of the time at Aba House was an excellent idea. I worked mostly up on the flat roof terrace, under the shade of a small thatched roof from where I could see what was going on all around, and of course everyone could see me too. Seeing me there often, the neighbours would say hello to me, or wave, and the children would shout their greetings. Curiosity brought some of them to see what I was doing, and some of them came back several times to see how my work was progressing. I watched one of them with interest, Salim, a cement artist, who was creating murals on the walls of the property next door. When we in turn went to see his work he explained to us what he was doing, and the traditional meaning of each scene. He was one of the people who came at the end of the day when we held the workshop. He had never tried making things with clay before, but after a few tips on technique he was good at it and enjoyed it too.
At home I work with two different clays, one a very fine white earthenware, the other a grogged white clay, but in Ghana white clay doesn’t really exist. Francis had been liaising with the Centre for Scientific and Industrial Research to try to produce a white body. We tested the only thing on offer but it was extremely short and needed quite a high firing temperature, and wasn’t very white either. I settled for a red earthenware body which was fairly plastic but not at all grogged, which made larger pieces difficult. I thought about furniture, and in preparation for the workshop I made three small size models of stools, two of which I made full size. The third one I decided wouldn’t be possible to make and dry successfully given the climate and the fact that I was working with an untried, ungrogged clay, (but I hope to make it here in cooler, damper France one day).
We managed to successfully dry the two stools and transport them to Francis´ workshop, carefully packed in boxes of sawdust for biscuit firing. Francis´ driver Kwame did a good job of driving slowly and carefully, avoiding as many potholes and bumps as possible, while Helen and I sat in the van with the boxes cradled gently on our knees. They survived firing too and came out of the kiln just in time for the workshop, arriving still warm in the afternoon. Of course we promptly tried them out, and they were quite comfortable too. The workshop was really interesting, with a good mixture of ideas and techniques, and time to discuss ideas and problems while we ate the delicious lunch that Talktrue had prepared for us. Two days is not long enough, but it is difficult to make it longer as some of the participants came a long way, and they had other work commitments too. Finance is another problem. Being an artist or craftsperson is not easy in Ghana, with a sliding economy and a lot of uncertainty, art is a luxury affordable by only a few, even though there is a big tradition of art there. Most artists have to turn towards the export market to make a living, and often the importers are only interested in a very limited stereotype of what is “African” art. Of course they also want to bargain hard and squeeze the price till it is virtually impossible to make more than a pittance. Perhaps one day the exploitation of the Third World by the richer more developed countries will cease, but we’re all a long way from it yet, and should be ashamed of our behaviour.
One of the best things about our stay in Ghana was the people we met. I have visited Africa twice before, having spent a total of 4 months cycletouring in Kenya and Uganda when Helen was a small child, but we were “just tourists”, always moving on. It is a completely different experience to work with people who don’t regularly work in the tourist trade, and to continue to work with them till the end of the project, with the mutual exchange of ideas and culture that this brings. This includes not only locals but Aba and Gigliola, whose culture isn’t the same as mine, though it is more subtly different. We also met friends and relatives of the people we worked with, and the contact continues with some of them becoming our good friends. Of course I only learnt a very small part of Ghanaian culture in the few weeks that I was there but I would like to learn more. The Ghanaians are the most welcoming friendly people you could want to meet, and they have a remarkable acceptance of all the many and varied problems that life throws at them regularly, and put their faith in God to sort it all out. Women in Ghana are quite powerful and independent compared to in some other African countries, but this doesn’t stop the men being courteous and gallant towards them. As a visitor it is difficult to be allowed to do things like carrying shopping yourself, you are their guest. They have as many misconceptions about life in Europe as we have about theirs, women potters here regularly wedge their own clay, and load their own vans, so it was interesting to “swap stories”. My clay doesn’t arrive in a dry heap tipped outside my gate from a lorry, needing washing and redrying to get rid of the stones and grass before I can use it!
I hope the series of furniture workshops continues as there are a lot of ideas still to be explored. One thing I am sure of, like many others – I will be back again before long, even if you don’t ever go anywhere in a straight line and nothing ever happens how and when you expected it to.
