You get what you pay for. That truism is just as applicable in pottery as in any other product category. Even more applicable in pottery, perhaps, than in other product categories is another truism: that you only see something truly after you’ve bought and paid for it.
Viewing works through the glass of museum or gallery display cases is one thing; taking them in hand is something else again. Anyone who has examined museum pieces up close has discovered features that were never apparent through the glass. Likewise, pecuniary involvement yields unsuspected insights; pottery reveals itself most fully to someone who has just spent next month’s rent on the work.
We buy the best pottery that we can afford or, better yet, somewhat more than we can afford and place the work on plain view. We live with the pottery, viewing it from every angle, taking it in hand occasionally, using it as vessels for beverages, dishes for food, vases for flowers. Thus to we absorb visual input, tactile input, and utilitarian feedback over the days and years. Then and only then do we come to terms truly with what the pottery has to say.
