middleport

Inspired by The Great Pottery Throw Down and Keith's tears my sister and I drove to Middleport Pottery for my birthday earlier this month.

The pottery was built in 1888 and is remarkable in being the first to use a production line system, with clay delivered by barge at one end of the factory and ceramics shipped out by barge at the other. 

Middleport pottery has been the Home of Burleigh since 1889, Burleigh is the only remaining UK pottery continuing to use traditional methods from the Victorian era. The factory tour was fascinating - viewing the whole production line, the specialist skills of the craftspeople and how each stage of the process fitted together - a very well oiled 'machine'. Got a birthday kiss from a kind woman who was cleaning up saucers! Have deep respect for the ingenuity that goes into creating the ceramics. 

 Ware boards

 Ready for first firing

Discarded clay

two friends

Last week after walking to Alison Uttley's birthplace near Cromford, my sister and I walked along the canal towards the old mill buildings and turning left, joined the road towards Cromford's market place. The first right before the market place takes you to Scarthin Books of Cromford, we plodded up the gentle hill and entered the familiar shop. 

It is a joy to browse this shop full of new and pre-loved books. In the Art Room we discovered a pile of postcards and photographs and leafing through I found the first image, then deeper in the pile the second photograph turned up. At first I thought it was of the same woman but my sister noted the faces were different, and I searched again for the first image and placed them together. 

Two friends, posed outside between a window and doorway. You take my photo and I'll take yours. What was happening on this day? What plans did they have, what did they speak of? I'm intrigued by the informal poses and what appears to be finger knitting in the first image. Looking at the stone around the doorway it looks local, but who knows. There is nothing written on the back of either photograph, so my imagination can create their story. 

I placed them together and returned them to the pile, feeling strongly that I didn't want them separated. When we left the shop my sister handed me the photographs, having bought them secretly for the princely sum of £1. How thoughtful and kind.