Porcelain records every movement of thinking, every change of thought

Made by binding the soft flesh of Pentuse, with the brittle bones of Kaolin clay

Through construction it holds trace, Influenced by all its experiences

As the extruder births the clay into form

Many scar and warp

Those with too much trauma

Over time

Bruise

Break

Those that survive, move in tension

From foundation, through fire, and on

To collate, bolt after bolt 

Into a rhythmical mass of sonorous plains

Now a husk, where we are all found

Come closer

To know the cuts, curled edges, hidden traces beneath the glaze

Search beyond bold builds

See more than the nicks on each knuckle

Find that all our bones are brittle

Hold weight, until they crack

The Scotsman "...It would be easy to see the current zeitgeist for ceramics as coming from a desire to return to hands-on processes after too much virtual experience, but ceramics have been enjoying a resurgence in art schools for several years. Still, it’s hard to look at work such as Charlotte Maishman’s impressive installation in the Cooper’s Lower Gallery and not see the shadow of the pandemic..."

The Skinny "...Charlotte Maishman's haunting house installation similarly stages a confrontation with mortality. Its skeletal form is made of porcelain, fastened together with steel bolts, and weighs the same as an average human body. It’s an eerie reminder of the body’s vulnerability and strength; the image of an empty house seems to symbolise the losses we’ve collectively experienced over the past few years..."

The Courier "...Charlotte Maishman has ingeniously crafted her sculpture of a house from porcelain segments that are both strong yet brittle..."