6 hours Ago By Aimee Meade
Within 10 minutes of filming the first ever episode of The Great Pottery Throw Down in 2015 I was in tears.One of the potters, Rekha, was getting in trouble. She didn’t look like she was going to get her pots into the drying room in time and therefore make it into the next round of the competition.
Watching Rekha fall at the very first hurdle was something I – and indeed most people, surely – could identify and empathise with, but unlike most people I showed it outwardly by tearing up.if(window.adverts) { window.
adverts.addToArray({"pos": "inread-hb-ros-inews"}); }I could hear the director in my ear piece announcing excitably that “Rekha is in trouble, quick get some cameras on her”. This was one of the first glimpses of “jeopardy” (as telly people like to call it) in a brand-new unchartered show.
A few seconds later I then heard the director say, “Oh my God, one of the judges is crying...
this is TV gold, quick, cameras.” And that’s where it all started: my crying on national TV.Now I have a bit of a reputation for blubbing over clay.
Who’d have thought it? I certainly wouldn’t have, and not because I’m a fairly big chap, and big chaps like me don’t cry. No, for me it was a surprise that I had become so invested emotionally in the potters.I could truly identify with what they’re going through – and the struggle to create something you’re proud of.
This hasn’t really changed since that first episode. Obviously, I know as well as the viewer does, there is a format to shows like these, but the feelings and empathy in the pottery are very real.The idea of crying is not something I’m unfamiliar with either.
I cry all the bloody time! Recently I cried over a steel pillar of all things. It was in the chapel we are renovating and it had been sand blasted. We were uncovering it as we’d just put all our furniture in the finished room.
It was something to behold.if(window.adverts) { window.
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adverts.addToArray({"pos": "mpu_tablet_l1"}); }I suppose it’s process I cry over really: the process of creating something beautiful especially if said maker is proud of what they have done.My emotions, I have to say, are largely down to my upbringing.
My parents were never one for being disgusted or embarrassed by anyone showing emotion, and this obviously rubbed off on me.There have been times in my life where I haven’t really been in touch with my emotions – especially when I was in my twenties – but this gradually changed over time, especially when I took up pottery.The sheer physical (and emotional) skill in producing thousands of pots by hand every week had made me realise the value of the creative process and the subsequent results one can have when you achieve that vision that has been in your head.
It’s a marvellous feeling!Marj (my partner) and I have often discussed the impact of me crying on telly and the varying reactions with the wide spectrum of viewers The Throw Down seems to attract.I have walked past building sites and blokes, usually scaffolders, shout out “Oi , you’re the bloke off the telly that cries”, “I love that show”, “Well done mate, I love it when you cry, big man”. I smile and wave in acknowledgment of their appreciation.
One of the many nuances Marj and I discuss is, if I were a small framed, slight kind of a bloke, would it have the same impact? We surmise no, it wouldn’t. I suspect people would see me as weak, pathetic even. In society we have been conditioned to think that a stereotypical man should be tough and not show emotions.
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addToArray({"pos": "mpu_tablet_l2"}); }Yet I would argue that showing your feelings makes you more emotionally articulate and able to connect and communicate with other people, and therefore a stronger person all round. I am not in the least bit embarrassed by my crying.#color-context-related-article-3535999 {--inews-color-primary: #3759B7;--inews-color-secondary: #EFF2FA;--inews-color-tertiary: #3759B7;} Read Next square KATE BOTTLEY Don't be afraid of old age – it's a privilegeRead MoreMy crying is completely spontaneous on the show, and is often as much of a surprise to me as to anyone observing it.
However, when the contestants have struggled through adversity and found an outlet in art, I know the tears are going to flow.My crying does appear to have opened up the masculine flood gates. I have received hundreds if not thousands of messages from ex-service men, people working in quite masculine environments all saying how wonderful it is to see a bloke on the telly crying with joy, or indeed showing any kind of emotion towards another human being.
My crying seems to have allowed men to show their emotions in a more open and public way; that makes me so proud.I have never seen showing emotion as a sign of weakness, in fact quite the contrary. I very much see it as a strength.
Keith Brymer Jones is a potter and ceramic designer. He is a judge on Channel 4’s ‘The Great Pottery Throw Down‘This week I have beenMoving..
. house. At the moment, my waking hours are filled with shrink wrap, yards and yards of it.
It’s a wonderful material, although not exactly eco friendly. It’s like an industrial clingfilm and I have been using it to wrap endless pallets from my pottery studio to be relocated to North Wales. I treat every pallet I pack as a kind of game and see how much can I fit onto a single pallet.
Dressing...
I am a creature of habit when it comes to one’s daily attire. On an average day one can usually find me in work overalls. It serves me well in the studio, both upstairs if working on the computer or downstairs with clay.
It also doesn’t need thinking about. This allows me more time to think about creating. However, I do like my clothes when going out out and tend to buy well but not often, and when I do buy, it’s usually always British made, from shoes, to shirts to jackets.
Marj once bought me for Christmas a pair of Grenson boots. I didn’t take them off my feet for at least a month, and now I very rarely buy anything other than handmade shoes. There is an artistry in a handmade shoe which very much appeals.
Fasting...
At the moment I am trying to not eat anything before 12.30pm. Being a man of a certain age, I only have to think about bread and I can feel my breasts expanding at the very thought of it.
I love food, all kinds of food. My mother insisted when growing up that my sister and I had to eat everything that was given to us. This rule was carried out in a somewhat draconian way.
If anything was left on the plate from the previous meal you could be sure it was there at the next. Subsequently I eat practically anything. Looking back on this, I am actually quite grateful of this strict food regime.
I am incredibly lucky, as Marj is an exceptional cook and can make anything taste delicious with the simplest of ingredients. Actually I have no idea what Marj puts in or on the food , I just have the one job of eating, which I’m most grateful for..
