Amelia’s Magazine | The Life and Times of the Sabre-Toothed Sausage

Amelia’s Anthology of Illustration has now been reviewed widely on the internet. Here are some links to recent reviews and interviews with me:

Cheapzine.
Kevin Blowe for Red Pepper.
Smack That.
Inky Goodness.
Creative Review.
Creative Boom.
Thereza Rowe.
The Ecologist.
Pikaland interview.
Pikaland review.
Make Lemonade review.
Imaginative Bloom review.

Skype interviews with the Circus Project:

If you would like a copy for review get in touch with me.

‘Chanel No.5′ designed by Jean Helleau. Illustration by Sandra Contreras

When Freud pondered the question of ‘what women want, viagra 40mg ’ someone should have told him that there are few things more desirable than a beautiful bottle of scent. Since the early 20th century, the perfume flaçon (small bottle) has taken on many weird and wonderful guises – some of which have gone on to become cultural artefacts and artist’s muses. By no means a comprehensive list, here is a small selection of some of the most jaw-dropping flaçons you’ll ever encounter – some of which even manage to upstage the scents they contain.

Chanel Nº 5
“I always launch my collection on the 5th day of the 5th month, so the number 5 seems to bring me luck – therefore, I will name it Nº 5,” proclaimed Mademoiselle Chanel after putting her initial doubts to one side and deciding to branch out into fragrance. The name itself summed up the scent’s abstract nature, and was a two-fingered salute to the other flowery perfume names at the time. Launched in 1921, No. 5 made greater use of synthetic ingredients, resulting in a blend of rose and ylang ylang that is rich, intoxicating but decidedly ‘unfloral.’ The first bottle was designed by the lady herself, modelled on the Charvet toiletry bottle that once belonged to her then-lover Captain Arthur ‘Boy’ Capel. The resulting flaçon we know and love was created in 1924 by Jean Helleau, and went on to become the subject of Andy Warhol’s famous ‘pop art’ prints, as well as being on permenant display in New York’s Musuem of Modern Art (MOMA) since 1959. The rich gold coloured liquid seen vividly through the glass of the minimalist square bottle, with its simple black letters and jewel-like stopper simply screams luxury. 86 years on, it is still capable of stopping women’s hearts – my fair own included.

Shalimar by Guerlain

‘Shalimar’ designed by Raymond Guerlain. Illustration by Stéphanie Thieullent

Named after the Shalimar Gardens in Lahore, and meaning ‘temple of love’ in Sanskrit, you could half expect a genie to emerge from this fan-shaped bottle with sapphire-coloured stopper, but the sweet vanilla fragrance inside is just as mesmerising. Designed by Raymond Guerlain in 1925 and manufactured by Cristal Baccarat (who along with Lalique, first turned the perfume flaçon into an objet d’art) the design of Shalimar was inspired by the fountains one might find in Indian palaces, and was displayed at the Decorative Arts Exhibition in the same year. The bottle has recently been given a modern make-over by jewellery designer/socialite Jade Jagger, who hasn’t strayed that far from the original, and produced a slightly sleeker version that Raymond himself would have been happy with.

Flower by Kenzo

‘Flower by Kenzo’ designed by Serge Mansau. Illustration by Kayleigh Bluck

I love the beautiful simplicity of Flower by Kenzo – how the tall thin glass leans gracefully to one side like a delicate stem in a summer breeze, echoing the sweet floral fragrance within – with a trompe l’oeil image of a flower appearing as if it were inside the bottle itself. Launched in 2000, the flaçon was designed by Serge Mansau, a French glass sculptor and stage decorator, who had already honed his craft designing flaçons for the likes of Dior and Hermés. He was given the concept of a flower by Kenzo’s artistic director Patrick Geudj, who wanted to highlight it as a powerful symbol for peace, and was particularly inspired by photographer Marc Ribaud’s image March in Washington (21st of October 1967) in which a girl holds a flower in front of a gun that is being pointed at her. Who knew a perfume could be political?

Shocking by Schiaparelli

Schiaparelli’s ‘Shocking’ designed by Leonor Fini. Illustration by Joana Faria

Inspired by a bust of Mae West, who was one of Schiaparelli’s major clients, 1937’s “Shocking” was designed by Argentine painter Leonor Fini, and best exemplifies Schiaparelli’s role in the surrealist movement (her designs included her famous lobster dress, and a hat in the shape of high heeled shoe.) The name was inspired by Cartier’s famous ‘shocking pink’ diamond the Tête de Belier (Ram’s Head) and Shocking’s encasing box was dyed in the same pink shade to match. In an era where few fashion houses were releasing perfume, ‘Shocking’ was Schiaparelli’s attempt to compete with her nemesis Chanel (although sadly unlike her rival, the label did not adapt to the changes brought about by WWII and closed in 1954.) The scent itself – a rather dry powdery bouquet of honey rose and jasmine – may not be to everyone’s taste, but the bottle still remains a little piece of perfume history.

Alien by Thierry Mugler

‘Alien’ designed by Thierry Mugler. Illustration by Karolina Burdon

Designed by Mugler himself, Alien is a bright amethyst and gold flaçon, made to appear like a ‘sacred stone’ brings to mind 1980’s sci-fi films such as Blade Runner and Tron –  and is a good example of the designer’s flamboyant, theatrical style (check out Beyoncé’s motorcycle corset for a better idea). Alien was Mugler’s second fragrance, which he described as a nod to ‘ultra-feminity’ and contains notes of sambac jasmine and cashmeran wood, creating a soft woody- amber bouquet. The flaçon according to the designer “symbolises thoughtfulness and peace of mind” despite appearing as if it’s going to hatch a new life form on a mission to destroy all humanity as we know it, HG Wells-style.

naked mole rat by Paul Shinn
Naked Mole Rat by Paul Shinn.

Every now and again something quite random catches my eye… and so it was a few months ago when I came across a news story about the *sabre-toothed sausage* – otherwise known as the naked mole rat. And why, malady you may ask, medical did this curious creature engage me so? Aside from the opportunity to showcase some fab illustrations of course.

Abi Daker - naked mole rat
Illustration by Abigail Daker.

Scientist Dr Chris Faulkes at the University of London has been studying these bizarre animals for twenty years, and what grabbed me about the story on the BBC News website was the unusual social structure of mole rats, who live in groups of up to 300 individuals.

mole rat by Nick Hilditch
Illustration by Nick Hilditch.

I’ll put aside for the moment the fact that “queen” mole rats get all the action – forming long term bonds with her lucky selected suitors (note the plural use of the word here) and ensuring that for most mole rats sex is something they will never experience – and instead focus on the interesting ways in which mole rats care for their entire community.

Naked Mole Rat by Reena Makwana
Naked Mole Rat by Reena Makwana.

For rather like bees, ants or termites, the mole rats care for their colonies as a whole, with the smaller mole rats taking on the roles of workers, and the larger ones fighting off any pesky intruders, eg snakes. They live for an exceptionally long time for such little beasties (up to 30 years) and appear to be immune to cancer… hence the intense interest from the scientific community.

Heirarchy Of Sausages by Gareth A Hopkins
Heirarchy Of Sausages by Gareth A Hopkins.

They may look bloody funny, but I think that we would do well to learn from creatures such as the Sabre-Toothed Sausage. After all, living in such close knit communities clearly works wonders for them… and they dig with their teeth – how cool is that?

Stacie Swift Naked Mole Rat
Stacie Swift‘s Naked Mole Rat.

Naked-Mole-Rat-by-Laura-Nuttall
Naked Mole Rat by Laura Nuttall.

Alison Warner mole rat
Alison Warner‘s mole rat.

Categories ,Alison Warner, ,BBC News, ,Cancer, ,community, ,Dr Chris Faulkes, ,Gareth A Hopkins, ,Laura Nuttall, ,Lemonaday, ,Naked Mole Rat, ,Nick Hilditch, ,Paul Shinn, ,Reena Makwana, ,Sabre-Toothed Sausage, ,Stacie Swift, ,University of London

Similar Posts:






Amelia’s Magazine | The Life and Times of the Sabre-Toothed Sausage

Amelia’s Anthology of Illustration has now been reviewed widely on the internet. Here are some links to recent reviews and interviews with me:

Cheapzine.
Kevin Blowe for Red Pepper.
Smack That.
Inky Goodness.
Creative Review.
Creative Boom.
Thereza Rowe.
The Ecologist.
Pikaland interview.
Pikaland review.
Make Lemonade review.
Imaginative Bloom review.

Skype interviews with the Circus Project:

If you would like a copy for review get in touch with me.

‘Chanel No.5′ designed by Jean Helleau. Illustration by Sandra Contreras

When Freud pondered the question of ‘what women want, viagra 40mg ’ someone should have told him that there are few things more desirable than a beautiful bottle of scent. Since the early 20th century, the perfume flaçon (small bottle) has taken on many weird and wonderful guises – some of which have gone on to become cultural artefacts and artist’s muses. By no means a comprehensive list, here is a small selection of some of the most jaw-dropping flaçons you’ll ever encounter – some of which even manage to upstage the scents they contain.

Chanel Nº 5
“I always launch my collection on the 5th day of the 5th month, so the number 5 seems to bring me luck – therefore, I will name it Nº 5,” proclaimed Mademoiselle Chanel after putting her initial doubts to one side and deciding to branch out into fragrance. The name itself summed up the scent’s abstract nature, and was a two-fingered salute to the other flowery perfume names at the time. Launched in 1921, No. 5 made greater use of synthetic ingredients, resulting in a blend of rose and ylang ylang that is rich, intoxicating but decidedly ‘unfloral.’ The first bottle was designed by the lady herself, modelled on the Charvet toiletry bottle that once belonged to her then-lover Captain Arthur ‘Boy’ Capel. The resulting flaçon we know and love was created in 1924 by Jean Helleau, and went on to become the subject of Andy Warhol’s famous ‘pop art’ prints, as well as being on permenant display in New York’s Musuem of Modern Art (MOMA) since 1959. The rich gold coloured liquid seen vividly through the glass of the minimalist square bottle, with its simple black letters and jewel-like stopper simply screams luxury. 86 years on, it is still capable of stopping women’s hearts – my fair own included.

Shalimar by Guerlain

‘Shalimar’ designed by Raymond Guerlain. Illustration by Stéphanie Thieullent

Named after the Shalimar Gardens in Lahore, and meaning ‘temple of love’ in Sanskrit, you could half expect a genie to emerge from this fan-shaped bottle with sapphire-coloured stopper, but the sweet vanilla fragrance inside is just as mesmerising. Designed by Raymond Guerlain in 1925 and manufactured by Cristal Baccarat (who along with Lalique, first turned the perfume flaçon into an objet d’art) the design of Shalimar was inspired by the fountains one might find in Indian palaces, and was displayed at the Decorative Arts Exhibition in the same year. The bottle has recently been given a modern make-over by jewellery designer/socialite Jade Jagger, who hasn’t strayed that far from the original, and produced a slightly sleeker version that Raymond himself would have been happy with.

Flower by Kenzo

‘Flower by Kenzo’ designed by Serge Mansau. Illustration by Kayleigh Bluck

I love the beautiful simplicity of Flower by Kenzo – how the tall thin glass leans gracefully to one side like a delicate stem in a summer breeze, echoing the sweet floral fragrance within – with a trompe l’oeil image of a flower appearing as if it were inside the bottle itself. Launched in 2000, the flaçon was designed by Serge Mansau, a French glass sculptor and stage decorator, who had already honed his craft designing flaçons for the likes of Dior and Hermés. He was given the concept of a flower by Kenzo’s artistic director Patrick Geudj, who wanted to highlight it as a powerful symbol for peace, and was particularly inspired by photographer Marc Ribaud’s image March in Washington (21st of October 1967) in which a girl holds a flower in front of a gun that is being pointed at her. Who knew a perfume could be political?

Shocking by Schiaparelli

Schiaparelli’s ‘Shocking’ designed by Leonor Fini. Illustration by Joana Faria

Inspired by a bust of Mae West, who was one of Schiaparelli’s major clients, 1937’s “Shocking” was designed by Argentine painter Leonor Fini, and best exemplifies Schiaparelli’s role in the surrealist movement (her designs included her famous lobster dress, and a hat in the shape of high heeled shoe.) The name was inspired by Cartier’s famous ‘shocking pink’ diamond the Tête de Belier (Ram’s Head) and Shocking’s encasing box was dyed in the same pink shade to match. In an era where few fashion houses were releasing perfume, ‘Shocking’ was Schiaparelli’s attempt to compete with her nemesis Chanel (although sadly unlike her rival, the label did not adapt to the changes brought about by WWII and closed in 1954.) The scent itself – a rather dry powdery bouquet of honey rose and jasmine – may not be to everyone’s taste, but the bottle still remains a little piece of perfume history.

Alien by Thierry Mugler

‘Alien’ designed by Thierry Mugler. Illustration by Karolina Burdon

Designed by Mugler himself, Alien is a bright amethyst and gold flaçon, made to appear like a ‘sacred stone’ brings to mind 1980’s sci-fi films such as Blade Runner and Tron –  and is a good example of the designer’s flamboyant, theatrical style (check out Beyoncé’s motorcycle corset for a better idea). Alien was Mugler’s second fragrance, which he described as a nod to ‘ultra-feminity’ and contains notes of sambac jasmine and cashmeran wood, creating a soft woody- amber bouquet. The flaçon according to the designer “symbolises thoughtfulness and peace of mind” despite appearing as if it’s going to hatch a new life form on a mission to destroy all humanity as we know it, HG Wells-style.

naked mole rat by Paul Shinn
Naked Mole Rat by Paul Shinn.

Every now and again something quite random catches my eye… and so it was a few months ago when I came across a news story about the *sabre-toothed sausage* – otherwise known as the naked mole rat. And why, malady you may ask, medical did this curious creature engage me so? Aside from the opportunity to showcase some fab illustrations of course.

Abi Daker - naked mole rat
Illustration by Abigail Daker.

Scientist Dr Chris Faulkes at the University of London has been studying these bizarre animals for twenty years, and what grabbed me about the story on the BBC News website was the unusual social structure of mole rats, who live in groups of up to 300 individuals.

mole rat by Nick Hilditch
Illustration by Nick Hilditch.

I’ll put aside for the moment the fact that “queen” mole rats get all the action – forming long term bonds with her lucky selected suitors (note the plural use of the word here) and ensuring that for most mole rats sex is something they will never experience – and instead focus on the interesting ways in which mole rats care for their entire community.

Naked Mole Rat by Reena Makwana
Naked Mole Rat by Reena Makwana.

For rather like bees, ants or termites, the mole rats care for their colonies as a whole, with the smaller mole rats taking on the roles of workers, and the larger ones fighting off any pesky intruders, eg snakes. They live for an exceptionally long time for such little beasties (up to 30 years) and appear to be immune to cancer… hence the intense interest from the scientific community.

Heirarchy Of Sausages by Gareth A Hopkins
Heirarchy Of Sausages by Gareth A Hopkins.

They may look bloody funny, but I think that we would do well to learn from creatures such as the Sabre-Toothed Sausage. After all, living in such close knit communities clearly works wonders for them… and they dig with their teeth – how cool is that?

Stacie Swift Naked Mole Rat
Stacie Swift‘s Naked Mole Rat.

Naked-Mole-Rat-by-Laura-Nuttall
Naked Mole Rat by Laura Nuttall.

Alison Warner mole rat
Alison Warner‘s mole rat.

Categories ,Alison Warner, ,BBC News, ,Cancer, ,community, ,Dr Chris Faulkes, ,Gareth A Hopkins, ,Laura Nuttall, ,Lemonaday, ,Naked Mole Rat, ,Nick Hilditch, ,Paul Shinn, ,Reena Makwana, ,Sabre-Toothed Sausage, ,Stacie Swift, ,University of London

Similar Posts:






Amelia’s Magazine | Beautiful Freaks: an interview with ceramicist Sophie Woodrow


Illustration by Paul Shinn

RD Franks has, this ed since 1877, been a hub for fashion students and journalists alike. The store, which recently relocated to Winsley Street, stocked everything a fashion fan could desire: every international edition of Vogue, rare trend magazines, the latest coffee table books and a whole load of reference literature for budding fashion designers.

So it came as a bit of shock a few days ago when RD Franks curiously sent Twitter users into a frenzy, tweeting ‘R. D. Franks is now closed until further notice. Kindest regards to all our lovely customers.’ Are they closed for refurbishment? Are they closed for good? Maybe they’re just swishing up their opening hours, which were bizarre enough anyway – closed on Saturdays? Ridiculous!

I’m currently putting together a feature of the best places to buy fashion literature in London, and RD Franks was to be top of the list. It was a big supporter of Amelia’s Magazine when we were in print, flogging many copies despite being difficult to deal with (Amelia’s words, not mine!) It was the one-stop-shop for research and bagging those hard-to-find copies of books and magazines that you couldn’t source anywhere else. I’d asked our fantastic contributor Paul to illustrate the stores I’d selected and RD Franks was the first one he produced, so this is somewhat of a sneaky opportunity to also showcase his brilliant drawing.

If they are closed for good, it’s a real shame, but not the world’s greatest surprise. Their stocklist had declined slightly in previous months and the few times I’d been in recently there was never much of an atmosphere. Add to the mix difficult opening hours and you’re business isn’t going to flourish.

So, RD Franks – if this is the end, thanks for being there and we’re sorry to see you go. You will be missed! (If it isn’t, what the hell is going on?)

If you know any more, do let us know!

Sophie Woodrow crowd
Photograph by Ben Dowden. All photographs courtesy of Sophie Woodrow.

Have you ever caught sight of something out of the corner of your eye and mistaken it for something quite different, remedy even otherworldly? Like the tatty old dressing-gown casting long, cheapest black shadows on your bedroom wall, decease or a flashback from that dream you had when you were seven, half remembered and so much more monstrous for not being quite complete? My first ever nightmare involved Worzel Gummidge and Punch, of ‘Punch and Judy‘ chasing me around our old house to the sound of sit-com laughter. I think I may have downed one too many Sodastreams that day, but if, like me, you’re familiar with that weird, slightly disturbing sensation and find it just a little bit addictive, then you are sure to love the work of Bristolian ceramic artist Sophie Woodrow.

Sophie Woodrow crowd2

Since graduating from Falmouth College of Art with a BA in studio ceramics, she has refined an intricate labour-intensive technique. Each piece is hand-built, involving coiling, incising and impressing to create a delicately textured surface. The hybrid creatures she creates explore Victorian theories of evolution. They represent a kind of ‘Sliding Doors’ moment in natural science; They are ‘what ifs’, of the ‘what if an owl made a baby with a grizzly bear, a reindeer, a Dalek or a mahogany writing table?’ variety. The resulting objects bask in ambiguities, they are not quite visitors from another world, the visual language she uses could not belong anywhere other than 21st century England, they’re more like unseen elements of this world, or a dream world that approximates this one.

Sophie Woodrow Laura Nuttall
Sophie Woodrow by Laura Nuttall.

The stillness of Sophie’s figures reminds me of the Booth Museum of Natural History in Brighton, where my A level art class were taken to draw stuffed crows ‘cavorting’ in enormous glass cases. All those glaring, orange-glass eyes gave me the heebie-jeebees. Sophie’s figures have hollowed out cavities where their eyes should be, lending them an even spookier blankness, but at the same time they are almost homely. They’re a little like something I might find perched on my Great Aunt Doris’s mantelpiece, if she’d recently gone a bit mental and started draping her ornaments with my jewellery collection, or sticking them down with big lumps of Plasticine ‘just in case’. Looking at them I can almost hear the ticking of the great, big grandfather clock in her hall. Tick, tock, tick, tock…

Sophie Woodrow Lion
Photograph by Ben Dowden.

I stumbled across Sophie’s website completely by chance, whilst researching a blog about Made 10, Brighton’s forthcoming design and craft fair (read my listing here). I was quickly glad I did. Her work spoke so strongly to me that I felt compelled to get in touch immediately and ask her about it, and this is what she had to say:

Sophie Woodrow Palace Art Fair

Describe your work in 30 words or less:
Delicate, bright white porcelain portraits of animals and otherworldly beings, inspired by the contact point between the natural world and human culture.

Gemma Milly Sophie Woodrow
Illustration by Gemma Milly.

Why make hybrid ‘might-have-been’ creatures?
I make ‘might have been’ creatures as an expression of the delight and odd reassurance I take in knowing that I can never make anything as strange as the real thing.

ROARhiss By Rosie Shephard
ROARhiss by Rosie Shephard.

What attracts you to working in clay?
At first I was attracted to working in clay because, along with drawing it’s a very fundamental means of making art, and I wanted to make actual things not representations. Along the way I have found it to be a more complicated picture, and have adjusted to all the historical and cultural baggage that clay carries with it.

Sophie Woodrow Little Bear

What inspires you?
I am inspired by my love for the beauty of the natural world, and more particularly our relationship to it. I am fascinated by the representations that people have made of animals throughout the ages, what they say about them and their times, their sense of themselves in the world, their strengths and vulnerabilities. My influences come from museums and anywhere I can see art objects, tools, fetishes, toys, weapons, any object that has an interesting history.

What process do you go through to make a piece of work?
My making process is very laboured, but I try to keep the initial visualization of a piece very unedited, I try not to search too hard for an idea and just look at it out of the corner of my eye long enough to pin it down, so that all I am generally doing in the studio is the physical making process, I’ll have my ideas elsewhere, on my bike, hoovering, thinking about something completely different.

What was the last thing you drew?
My studio is littered with pages of tiny thumbnail sketches of my animals, it’s a visual record of where in the world everything is, which gallery or shop, otherwise I forget.

Sophie Woodrow elephant

What do you listen too while you work?
BBC 6Music is a godsend, as my hands are always too covered in clay to change CDs, and being crafty and not techy, I haven’t worked out how to use my Ipod. Radio 4 is good too, until you realize you’ve just listened to a half-hour programme about the history of the sprocket.

Name three contemporaries whose work you think we should check out:
At Collect this year I coveted all the jewellery in Galerie Rob Koudjis, especially the gorgeous work of Gemma Draper. Being a ceramicist I’m ungenerously critical of my genre but have recently seen and loved the work of Claire Lindner. Fellow Bristolian, Aaron Sewards, draws such sad, exquisite little drawings it makes me want to cry.

What’s coming up for Sophie Woodrow?
I will be part of a group show in The Royal West Academy in Bristol from Jan 2nd, I have some work on theshopfloorproject.com until March, and have things dotted about here and there until then.

Sophie Woodrow Owl

Categories ,Aaron Sewards, ,Ben Dowden, ,Booth Museum of Natural History, ,brighton, ,bristol, ,Claire Lindner, ,Collect, ,Dalek, ,Falmouth College of Art, ,Galerie Rob Koudjis, ,Gemma Draper, ,Gemma Milly, ,Grandfather clock, ,Ipod, ,Laura Nuttall, ,Made 10, ,plasticine, ,Punch and Judy, ,Radio 4, ,Radio 6 Music, ,Rose Shephard, ,Sliding Doors, ,Sodastream, ,Sophie Woodrow, ,Sprocket, ,The Royal West Academy, ,Theshopfloorproject.com, ,Worzel Gummidge

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Amelia’s Magazine | Beautiful Freaks: an interview with ceramicist Sophie Woodrow


Illustration by Paul Shinn

RD Franks has, this ed since 1877, been a hub for fashion students and journalists alike. The store, which recently relocated to Winsley Street, stocked everything a fashion fan could desire: every international edition of Vogue, rare trend magazines, the latest coffee table books and a whole load of reference literature for budding fashion designers.

So it came as a bit of shock a few days ago when RD Franks curiously sent Twitter users into a frenzy, tweeting ‘R. D. Franks is now closed until further notice. Kindest regards to all our lovely customers.’ Are they closed for refurbishment? Are they closed for good? Maybe they’re just swishing up their opening hours, which were bizarre enough anyway – closed on Saturdays? Ridiculous!

I’m currently putting together a feature of the best places to buy fashion literature in London, and RD Franks was to be top of the list. It was a big supporter of Amelia’s Magazine when we were in print, flogging many copies despite being difficult to deal with (Amelia’s words, not mine!) It was the one-stop-shop for research and bagging those hard-to-find copies of books and magazines that you couldn’t source anywhere else. I’d asked our fantastic contributor Paul to illustrate the stores I’d selected and RD Franks was the first one he produced, so this is somewhat of a sneaky opportunity to also showcase his brilliant drawing.

If they are closed for good, it’s a real shame, but not the world’s greatest surprise. Their stocklist had declined slightly in previous months and the few times I’d been in recently there was never much of an atmosphere. Add to the mix difficult opening hours and you’re business isn’t going to flourish.

So, RD Franks – if this is the end, thanks for being there and we’re sorry to see you go. You will be missed! (If it isn’t, what the hell is going on?)

If you know any more, do let us know!

Sophie Woodrow crowd
Photograph by Ben Dowden. All photographs courtesy of Sophie Woodrow.

Have you ever caught sight of something out of the corner of your eye and mistaken it for something quite different, remedy even otherworldly? Like the tatty old dressing-gown casting long, cheapest black shadows on your bedroom wall, decease or a flashback from that dream you had when you were seven, half remembered and so much more monstrous for not being quite complete? My first ever nightmare involved Worzel Gummidge and Punch, of ‘Punch and Judy‘ chasing me around our old house to the sound of sit-com laughter. I think I may have downed one too many Sodastreams that day, but if, like me, you’re familiar with that weird, slightly disturbing sensation and find it just a little bit addictive, then you are sure to love the work of Bristolian ceramic artist Sophie Woodrow.

Sophie Woodrow crowd2

Since graduating from Falmouth College of Art with a BA in studio ceramics, she has refined an intricate labour-intensive technique. Each piece is hand-built, involving coiling, incising and impressing to create a delicately textured surface. The hybrid creatures she creates explore Victorian theories of evolution. They represent a kind of ‘Sliding Doors’ moment in natural science; They are ‘what ifs’, of the ‘what if an owl made a baby with a grizzly bear, a reindeer, a Dalek or a mahogany writing table?’ variety. The resulting objects bask in ambiguities, they are not quite visitors from another world, the visual language she uses could not belong anywhere other than 21st century England, they’re more like unseen elements of this world, or a dream world that approximates this one.

Sophie Woodrow Laura Nuttall
Sophie Woodrow by Laura Nuttall.

The stillness of Sophie’s figures reminds me of the Booth Museum of Natural History in Brighton, where my A level art class were taken to draw stuffed crows ‘cavorting’ in enormous glass cases. All those glaring, orange-glass eyes gave me the heebie-jeebees. Sophie’s figures have hollowed out cavities where their eyes should be, lending them an even spookier blankness, but at the same time they are almost homely. They’re a little like something I might find perched on my Great Aunt Doris’s mantelpiece, if she’d recently gone a bit mental and started draping her ornaments with my jewellery collection, or sticking them down with big lumps of Plasticine ‘just in case’. Looking at them I can almost hear the ticking of the great, big grandfather clock in her hall. Tick, tock, tick, tock…

Sophie Woodrow Lion
Photograph by Ben Dowden.

I stumbled across Sophie’s website completely by chance, whilst researching a blog about Made 10, Brighton’s forthcoming design and craft fair (read my listing here). I was quickly glad I did. Her work spoke so strongly to me that I felt compelled to get in touch immediately and ask her about it, and this is what she had to say:

Sophie Woodrow Palace Art Fair

Describe your work in 30 words or less:
Delicate, bright white porcelain portraits of animals and otherworldly beings, inspired by the contact point between the natural world and human culture.

Gemma Milly Sophie Woodrow
Illustration by Gemma Milly.

Why make hybrid ‘might-have-been’ creatures?
I make ‘might have been’ creatures as an expression of the delight and odd reassurance I take in knowing that I can never make anything as strange as the real thing.

ROARhiss By Rosie Shephard
ROARhiss by Rosie Shephard.

What attracts you to working in clay?
At first I was attracted to working in clay because, along with drawing it’s a very fundamental means of making art, and I wanted to make actual things not representations. Along the way I have found it to be a more complicated picture, and have adjusted to all the historical and cultural baggage that clay carries with it.

Sophie Woodrow Little Bear

What inspires you?
I am inspired by my love for the beauty of the natural world, and more particularly our relationship to it. I am fascinated by the representations that people have made of animals throughout the ages, what they say about them and their times, their sense of themselves in the world, their strengths and vulnerabilities. My influences come from museums and anywhere I can see art objects, tools, fetishes, toys, weapons, any object that has an interesting history.

What process do you go through to make a piece of work?
My making process is very laboured, but I try to keep the initial visualization of a piece very unedited, I try not to search too hard for an idea and just look at it out of the corner of my eye long enough to pin it down, so that all I am generally doing in the studio is the physical making process, I’ll have my ideas elsewhere, on my bike, hoovering, thinking about something completely different.

What was the last thing you drew?
My studio is littered with pages of tiny thumbnail sketches of my animals, it’s a visual record of where in the world everything is, which gallery or shop, otherwise I forget.

Sophie Woodrow elephant

What do you listen too while you work?
BBC 6Music is a godsend, as my hands are always too covered in clay to change CDs, and being crafty and not techy, I haven’t worked out how to use my Ipod. Radio 4 is good too, until you realize you’ve just listened to a half-hour programme about the history of the sprocket.

Name three contemporaries whose work you think we should check out:
At Collect this year I coveted all the jewellery in Galerie Rob Koudjis, especially the gorgeous work of Gemma Draper. Being a ceramicist I’m ungenerously critical of my genre but have recently seen and loved the work of Claire Lindner. Fellow Bristolian, Aaron Sewards, draws such sad, exquisite little drawings it makes me want to cry.

What’s coming up for Sophie Woodrow?
I will be part of a group show in The Royal West Academy in Bristol from Jan 2nd, I have some work on theshopfloorproject.com until March, and have things dotted about here and there until then.

Sophie Woodrow Owl

Categories ,Aaron Sewards, ,Ben Dowden, ,Booth Museum of Natural History, ,brighton, ,bristol, ,Claire Lindner, ,Collect, ,Dalek, ,Falmouth College of Art, ,Galerie Rob Koudjis, ,Gemma Draper, ,Gemma Milly, ,Grandfather clock, ,Ipod, ,Laura Nuttall, ,Made 10, ,plasticine, ,Punch and Judy, ,Radio 4, ,Radio 6 Music, ,Rose Shephard, ,Sliding Doors, ,Sodastream, ,Sophie Woodrow, ,Sprocket, ,The Royal West Academy, ,Theshopfloorproject.com, ,Worzel Gummidge

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