The Work of the Potter: Solitary, Creative and Enthralling

You don’t come anywhere near a potter on the day of the firing. Fourteen hours of work, interspersed with the anxiety and the hope that some 200 pieces, the product of two weeks of labour, will be finally realized. The next day, Michel was more relaxed and quite willing to talk to me about pottery.

Auroville Today: Why pottery? 

Michel: It wasn’t really a choice. I spent my first two years in Auroville at Aspiration, taking part in an the collective activities of the time (1977-78), but nothing really satisfied me. Then a friend got it into his head to learn pottery and that simply lead me into this life. It seemed absurd – I had absolutely no idea what I was getting into. I was immediately enchanted and so I did a two-year apprenticeship at Golden Bridge with Ray and Deborah. That was far from sufficient to really understand the craft but I had too much desire to start something to wait any more and I was suffering from not spending enough time in Auroville.

What brought you to Auroville?

No! NO! We’re here to talk about pottery ... Okay, let’s just say that for some time in France I had been literally dead; I was in a desert, at every level of my life. I had known about Auroville’s existence for several years but I wasn’t feeling up to it and I was afraid. I somehow ended up making the step, prudently deciding just to come and have a look... And I stayed. I had a lot of difficulties at the beginning. Pottery has helped me a lot. I started working in Auroville with very few resources, but luckily I had Ray and Deborah’s constant support. I wanted to develop a product with a different quality, something between stoneware and earthenware. I took on a worker to help me and we set up the Aspiration Pottery together. There was nothing on that spot; it was very close to the village, next to Pour Tous. It lasted nearly two years and I was never satisfied. And then I had a firing accident – just imagine, when I opened the kiln nothing was there any more, only little heaps of clay where each piece had been. It was an apocalyptic vision and for me it symbolized the destruction of matter. Vanity of vanities, it was enough to make a sanyasin out of me. Finally it pushed me onto the path that I follow today. 

Which aspect of pottery do you prefer?

At first I was only interested in the wheel, working the clay – the perfect form, the pure line. Pottery, you understand, is like a human body; there’s the foot, the belly, the shoulder, the neck… I’m constantly seeking harmony, rhythm… meanwhile you can improvise. I could talk about it for hours. Then it was the study of glazes, materials, and, finally, firing techniques. Now it’s back in balance. The three aspects are absolutely connected, but I have less time to work at the wheel now, and besides I have to keep up the commercial side. 

Is the production sufficient to support the workshop? 

It’s enough to allow the unit to develop tranquilly and to support three workers and myself. 

How do you see yourself on the economic level in relation to Auroville?

Up to the present time it has not been possible for me to contribute in a regular manner, but honestly that was never my essential objective in creating the pottery. Now I hope it will soon be possible. It’s a way of feeling connected to the collective life, a way of participating. Like giving those who are really interested the chance to learn; I have a passionate pupil at the moment. I would also like to collaborate with architectural projects. There are a lot of things to do on that side; a whole world to explore. Also I think you’ve got to distinguish between crafts and small industries, which absolutely have to produce. As far as I’m concerned, I prefer to stay modest and be sure of always having the freedom to create. 

The state of our economy is totally berserk, and yet there’s an attempt to restructure some thing more collective. Do you think it would be a good policy to ask units to pay towards Auroville’s collective development a percentage which, without calling it that, would amount to a tax?

That’s been already tried and it didn’t work. What could be more stimulating would be for each work unit to decide what it is willing or able to contribute for a given period. Once you’ve committed yourself it’s a kind of challenge, and at the same time you keep your freedom of choice. That could be a first gesture towards emerging from this long, individualistic phase. It’s also valid for other sources of money.

Has the Foundation which has just come into existence brought changes in the way the pottery functions? 

No! I think rather that it may help, force us to organize ourselves – which we’ve been trying to do for several years already. And on the level of administrative red tape, it can’t be worse than Artisana Trust. It was a nightmare in the early days and I was in a state of permanent revolt. Now I'm calm.

What does pottery bring you in you personal life?

Equilibrium, endurance, I don’t know. 

After all these years have you found out why you chanced to choose pottery? 

Found out...? No! But let’s say that through my work I’m trying to express a certain aspect of beauty in everyday objects. I don’t think of myself as an artist, but this search for beauty, for harmony, gets a real grip on you; it’s a force that drives you on and gives you the strength, despite any number of setbacks and disappointments, to continue your apprenticeship, which is so very, very long. I often get the feeling that I’ve only begun. There’s no end to the search for beauty.