Page 70 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle

Rob shuffled his feet. ‘Could I ask your advice?’

‘Of course.’ She looked at him expectantly.

‘I struggle to get height on pieces, especially when it comes to vases. I get them to a certain height and the necks become twisted.’

‘Do you mean when you do collaring?’

‘Yes.’

‘How wet are your hands?’

‘I keep a sponge handy.’

‘Good.’ The teacher in Freya kicked into gear. ‘Tell you what, why don’t you show me and maybe I can see where you can make an adjustment or two.’

Rob was obviously an experienced potter, and it amazed her that no matter how long you’d been making ceramics, there was always something to be learnt. She was more than happy to share her knowledge, and in return if she could scrounge tips from others, she would.

He ushered her towards his throwing station and handed her an apron. Then he pinned a bat onto the wheel and set it spinning, and unwrapped a lump of clay and slammed it down.

Freya watched him throw a wide cylinder, studying the placement of his hands as he gathered the clay from the bottom, pulling it up with his palms.

‘OK, I think I can see what’s happening,’ she said, as the structure began to topple. ‘If you leave the pulls a bit thicker, you’ll be able to stretch the clay without it collapsing. Don’t allow it to become too thin, and keep the pulls gentle.’

‘Like this?’ The clay was transforming from a short cylinder into a much taller one before her very eyes.

‘Exactly like that. Now, rotate your wrists, like this.’ She held up her arms to demonstrate, moving her hands upwards and her palms inwards, and watched him do the same. ‘That’s right. Don’t worry if you feel it start to wobble; the trick is to re-centre it as you lift it. See the bit that’s bulging? Right there?’

‘Here?’

‘Yes, keep your eyes on it and with each rotation, push it in. You’ve got to keep pushing it in, so you don’t let the wobble take hold, because that’s when it’ll collapse. Good, good… You’ve got it.’

When the clay was at a height of about half a metre, she said, ‘Stop pulling. Now you can shape it. Don’t use your fingers, use a stick – it’ll ensure the neck remains open. I think you were trying to thin the collar too much before shaping it.’

‘I was!’ he cried, and she was delighted to see how pleased he was with the finished result.

After he’d removed the vase from the wheel and carried it very carefully to the drying rack, he stood back to admire it.

‘You really should run a workshop here,’ he told her.

‘No,youshould.’

‘But I can’t—’

‘Yes, you can,’ she interrupted. ‘Start with a beginners’ workshop and a simple thrown pot. Or how about hand building for kids? You’ll be amazed how rewarding it is.’

‘I’m not as skilled as you.’

‘Not at collaring perhaps, but what about your glazing?’ She pointed to an elegant bowl in the studio’s window. ‘That’s exquisite.’ Pride shone in his eyes as she added, ‘We can all learn from each other. No one knows everything.’

‘You really think I could run a workshop?’

‘Absolutely!’

‘Oh, wow. Maybe I will.’

Freya fished around in her bag and handed him a small embossed card. ‘My email address is on the back.When,’ she stressed the word, ‘you run your first one, I’d like to see some photos, and I definitely want you to tell me how brilliantly it went.’

‘Thank you so much. I will.’

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