Tessa Reed, the artist behind Tessaramics, sets pieces from their collection for glazing, at the Kingsmill Studio in Vancouver, on July 20.Tijana Martin/The Globe and Mail
I didn’t know pottery was such a hot commodity until this spring when I tried to buy a crow. I was in my parked car when my alarm went off: Ceramist Jessica Bartram’s latest work was open for purchase. I knew what I wanted, so I quickly added some items to my cart and tried to check out – and failed. With quick tapping, I managed to secure a little octopus-adorned bowl, but the crows eluded me.
“It’s always wild to me,” Bartram says about the demand for her work. “I feel very lucky to have stumbled into this.”
Work from Jessica Bartram, an Ottawa-based illustrator, designer, and ceramic artist.Ashley Fraser/The Globe and Mail
Bartram is just one of many ceramic artists using drops – the release of a small batch of product at a preannounced time, creating not only demand but also hype – to sell their work online, to great success. You expect sold-out drops for limited-edition sneakers and concert tickets, but pottery? It’s surprising at first.
But online product drops are attractive to makers, says Tessa Reed, a Vancouver-based potter: Drops fit with a batched workflow, they make your art widely accessible and, unlike wholesale, you get 100 per cent of the profits. “It has so many benefits,” they say. “It really works well.”
That doesn’t mean there aren’t downsides. Kiefer Floreal, for instance, would rather make pottery than photograph and measure it, not to mention the effort and cost required to ship these breakable items. He’s also reluctant to play the social-media game. “You’re not supposed to just be an artist any more,” he says. “You’re supposed to be an entertainer.”
Drops provide very sporadic income, adds Lesley Wellington, for whom pottery is a business that fits well with caring for young children. Frustrated customers who missed out make for a lot of customer-service time. “It can have a negative effect on you as a creator,” Wellington says.
While changes to how Instagram’s algorithm affects post visibility have reduced its reliability as a marketing tool, it’s still a key way many potters reach an audience – and they supplement it with other platforms and their own e-mail lists. These tools allow them to share their process, tease new work and build demand for popular designs and one-of-a-kind pieces.
Then it’s a question of promoting a drop date – and, hopefully, watching the sales roll in.
“I think it has to do with the joy of owning something that you know the story about or feel personally connected to,” Reed says. “When you buy something from an online drop it feels really novel and wonderful.”
The Globe and Mail spoke with five Canadian potters about the ups and downs of social-media sales.
Jessica Bartram focuses on hand-shaped sculptures and functional vessels adorned with colourful, fanciful illustrations inspired by the natural world.Ashley Fraser/The Globe and Mail
Jessica Bartram, Hey Witch
Instagram: @jbbartram
Ottawa
“People love a weird little creature,” Jessica Bartram says. So, it’s no wonder her sculptures of both real and imaginary animals sell out almost as fast as she can open up her online store. “They’re pleasant to hold,” she adds. “They’re not practical, but they’re accessible.”
While Bartram does get good traction via Instagram and her e-mail list, her strongest platform is a surprising one: Tumblr. “Tumblr is not dead,” she says. “And it’s actually my favourite social media.”
Ashley Fraser/The Globe and Mail
Bartram grew up immersed in both nature and art, and her portfolio as a professional illustrator reflects this. While she’d spent time with clay in her youth, it was only in 2020 that she started seriously translating her skills to 3-D. Now, she focuses on hand-shaped sculptures and functional vessels (she avoids wheel throwing as it’s “really messy”) adorned with colourful, fanciful illustrations inspired by the natural world: lichen and mushrooms, snails and toads, octopuses and mythical beasts.
Some works are planned out, but most are improvised on the fly – especially when it comes to sculptures, which Bartram often makes while waiting for larger pieces to firm up.
“I’m very enthusiastic about experimenting,” she says. “My main thing is I make what I want to make.”
Kiefer Floreal's work is inspired by interior objects such as chandelier medallions and crown moulding but with graffiti-like contemporary elements.Supplied
Kiefer Floreal, kflorealpottery
Instagram: @kflorealpottery
Winnipeg
Kiefer Floreal’s on-off relationship with pottery started in high school, when a teacher he “thought was cool” suggested he study ceramics. Before long he was “cranking out pots” in his garage and firing them in the art-class kiln. “I just kept doing it,” he says. “It’s my go-to hobby, and now my profession.”
Floreal’s work is traditional in form and almost exclusively wheel-thrown, inspired by interior objects such as chandelier medallions and crown moulding but with graffiti-like contemporary elements. One commenter on Reddit, he says, accurately described it as “your grandmother’s furniture, but also your high-school notebook.” To honour his background – “I’ve been fishing in Kenora my whole life,” he says – he imprints some of his pieces with fish, a technique inspired by the Japanese art of gyotaku.
Supplied
Floreal admits his preferred sales venue is in-person markets. But he tries to do a few drops a year to supply an online following that’s grown substantially since his appearance this year on the CBC show The Great Canadian Pottery Throw Down.
“People want to stay connected with you and your work,” he says. And online shopping has been good to him too – such as in 2020 when he was living in the small town of Dryden, Ont., with limited sales outlets and a locked-down audience ready to buy during the pandemic. “I’d have 50 mugs gone in nine minutes,” he says. “It was such a crazy rush.”
Tessa Reed, the artist behind Tessaramics, collects pieces from their collection for glazing at the Kingsmill Studio in Vancouver, on July 20.Tijana Martin/The Globe and Mail
Tessa Reed, Tessaramics
Instagram: @tessaramics
Vancouver
Tessa Reed was studying art at Emily Carr University and developing their technical skills under professional potters when they decided they needed more money to help pay the bills. So they got a job at a cat café. Turns out there was harmony in these disparate worlds, and they started making cat-themed ceramics.
The rest, as people say, is hiss-tory. “It just took off.” Cats and the internet go together like clay and glaze, so it seems obvious in retrospect that Reed’s work became popular on TikTok and found a dedicated following on Instagram that now tops 36,500. “Two of my passions collided in such a beautiful way.”
Tijana Martin/The Globe and Mail
Of their collection, Reed says, “I sell a lot of mugs” – especially of what might be their signature piece, a sgraffito vessel starring two cats saying “heck.” It’s designed not just to be cute but to feel good to hold, with an oversized handle you can wrap your hand through. In addition to functional ware, Reed also does sculptural work such as little ceramic cats, which sell well in their real-world shop on Granville Island. “I really, really like joy and whimsy,” they say.
Reed also finds joy in sharing the process online – something they think has helped with audience growth immensely. “I only post stuff I’m superexcited about,” they say. “People resonate with it because they like to see how things are made and are curious.”
Mie Kim started in ceramics as a hobby, creating functional ware, but transitioned into sculptures and one-of-a-kind objects that she aims to infuse with the serenity and calmness of her Korean culture.Kam Vachon/Supplied
Mie Kim, Mie Kim Studio
Instagram: @miekim__
Montreal
“I like to spend a lot of time on one piece,” says Mie Kim of her practice. “One of the beauties of things made with hands is that it can be different every time.”
A former documentary filmmaker, Kim switched careers to escape the constant deadlines and 70-hour workweeks. Ceramics started as a hobby but became her profession within just a couple of years; she began with functional ware but transitioned into sculptures and one-of-a-kind objects that she aims to infuse with the serenity and calmness of her Korean culture. Now, she goes so far as to harvest materials on occasional trips outside the city.
“We are so detached from the source and process of what we consume,” she says. “It’s a big part of my practice to source my own clay.”
Kam Vachon
Vanessa Lai
Vanessa Lai/Supplied
Previously, Kim’s online drops would sell in just a day or two. Now that her pieces are more unique and complex – with a higher price to match – the process is longer, and often includes customer visits to her studio to see the work in person. In between drops she’ll update customers via Instagram and e-mail to keep the community active and build a sense of anticipation, even inviting people on occasion to the studio for tea.
“There is a very intimate connection with the audience when I do it this way,” she says. “It’s a little bit slower, but it still works.”
Lesley Wellington, a ceramic artist based in Hamilton, followed other makers online and started posting her own work on Instagram – not to sell, at least at first, but to connect with a community of fellow artists and fans.Nick Iwanyshyn/The Globe and Mail
Lesley Wellington, L Welly Ceramics
Instagram: @lwellyceramics
Hamilton
“I’ve always been a creative person,” Lesley Wellington says. So, in 2019, when her husband returned to work and it was her turn to stay home with the kids, she decided to try ceramics – and was immediately hooked.
She followed other makers online to learn more about the craft and started posting her own work on Instagram – not to sell, at least at first, but to connect with a community of fellow artists and fans.
“It gained traction from there,” she says of her following on the platform, which is now past 30,000. “In a way, it birthed itself.”
Nick Iwanyshyn/The Globe and Mail
Wellington defines her work as niche and quirky. “It’s always a little goofy, even when I want to be more serious.” Faces feature prominently, often with off-kilter expressions and accompanied by offbeat designs and colourful accents of glaze. She’s recently started to introduce animal designs – think cats perched on the edge of mugs or frogs giving side-eye adorning wall shelves – and has been teasing them online to build interest for her next release.
She sells primarily online, via both Instagram and her e-mail list, in limited-edition seasonal drops that are quick to sell out. “I did not expect this to happen,” she says of her success. “I’m grateful for it.”
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