HJK Letters No. 1: Aimee Holt
HJK Letters is a journal from our studio: letters from the makers and creatives whose work we admire, in their own words. Each letter is built around the same five questions, with photographs from a day spent in their world.
For the first HJK Letter, we spent an autumn day with potter Aimee Holt at her home studio in East Lothian, among the apple trees, the old stone barn and shelves of her work.
How it began
I make functional ceramics, both hand-thrown and hand-built, from my home studio in East Lothian. I came to pottery a little unexpectedly during lockdown. I was lucky enough to be furloughed, and I started playing around with air-dry clay and following YouTube tutorials. I found it incredibly meditative. I’d sit for hours just enjoying the process of making and being.
As soon as lockdown finished, I signed up for an Introduction to Pottery course at the Scottish Design School in Edinburgh, and it was a real moment of: I’ve finally found something I can call my own. I could suddenly see myself doing it for a living, although I certainly wasn’t instantly good at it! I don’t think anyone is. I just had such a love for it, and a lot of determination, that I decided to invest some of my savings in a small tabletop wheel. She’s still with me today, and she’s called Merry, after the singer Merry Clayton.
I spent my days off practising, sometimes all day and into the evening, and eventually bought a small kiln, which I kept in my parents’ garage in Galloway. At the time I was living in a small flat in Edinburgh, so I’d make everything in the flat, carefully pack up the greenware, drive it down to my parents’ house to fire, and take my wheel with me so I could keep making while the kiln was running. I did that for about two years, climbing up and down the stairs of a top-floor flat with boxes of pots.
I started selling little bits through Instagram, mostly to friends and friends of friends, and gradually built up a body of work and a colour palette that felt like my style. Then Goodhood approached me on Instagram and became my first stockist. Things grew from there.
For a while I worked part-time at Aesop alongside the pottery, before finally taking the leap into being a full-time potter last year. It’s funny to think that something which started as a way of filling the time during lockdown has become my whole way of life.
A favourite tool
My yellow rib is one of those very simple tools that I use constantly, particularly for shaping and smoothing the clay. It’s not particularly exciting or fancy, but I rely on it all the time. I think that’s what I love about pottery: you don’t actually need that many tools.
“A lump of clay, a few simple tools and your hands can take you a surprisingly long way.”
Something treasured
I’ve had a children’s book since I was about three years old, and it’s something I still treasure today. My mum had it specially made with the characters’ names changed to names from our family, which I thought was the most amazing thing ever when I was little!
It has so much nostalgia attached to it. It instantly takes me back to being a tiny kid, and I can remember how magical it was with my parents reading it to me. It still makes me emotional every time I take it from the bookshelf.
Winter in the studio
I love working outside as much as I can during the summer months. If the weather is good, I’ll take my wheel outside and throw in the fresh air, and I’ll do as much of my glazing outdoors as I can too. So when winter comes around, I have to make the most of the small studio space I have and make it feel really cosy.
I’ll light some candles, make a big pot of coffee or tea and settle in for the day. I’m also really busy in the run-up to Christmas, so there’s usually some very chilled music in the background while I’m making, glazing, firing and packing orders. When I run out of space in the studio, the kitchen table becomes a packing station!
It can be pretty hectic, but I actually love that side of winter, being tucked away in the studio, making things while it’s cold and dark outside. Then once Christmas is over, things quieten down a little and I get some time to experiment and think about what I want to make for the year ahead.
Ten years from now
In ten years, I hope I’m still making pots. I’d love to have made my studio a little bigger, or perhaps converted the barn into a bigger studio, with more space to work, store everything and maybe a little more room for experimenting and playing around with new ideas.
More than anything, I hope I’m still making, still experimenting with new shapes and colours and, most importantly, still enjoying it. If in ten years I’m still making things with my hands, making a living from it and genuinely excited to walk into the studio each morning, I’d be pretty happy.
We brought a little of Hilary’s work along on the day. Aimee wears our Morar Jumper in Haar, a new colour coming soon, and the blanket is our Lugano Trellis Blanket.
With thanks to Aimee for welcoming us in. You can find her work at @carrick_ceramics.