Photography: Babiche Martens
From her home studio in rural Waikato, Debra Powell crafts whimsical and wonderful artworks. Rich with detail and story, it’s hard not to fall in love with every piece.
Tell us a little bit about your creative journey so far.
My first job out of school was painting fine china figurines for Hereford Fine China. That led to a two-year diploma in craft design at Waikato Polytechnic, where I majored in ceramics. In the intervening years, I moved from being a self-employed studio potter and single mum into the world of academia. I spent 10 years completely lost in learning. I soaked up everything from world history and politics, art history and classics, gender studies, law and criminology. I came out the other side with degrees in New Zealand history and a PhD in criminal legal studies. But the creative pull has been strong, and coming back to the clay was inevitable. Making stuff from mud is humble and honest work. Essentially, that’s what I do, and it fits me just fine.
How often does your academic background influence your work?
My final thesis looked at homicide cases in the 19th-century New Zealand court system, uncovering the complex narratives we tell ourselves to make sense of the world. That concept of storytelling drives everything I make. But now I garden and plant native trees and hang out with birds and sleepy greyhounds, so my stories tend to be of the quieter, gentler variety.
Your work is so wonderfully detailed. How long does it take to complete a piece?
There are roughly nine processes to get something through to the finished stage and I make different pieces simultaneously. So, while some things are being put together, others are slowly drying and still others are at the glazing stage. I know it’s terrible business practice but I’d really rather not know how long each piece takes to complete. I just know it’s not finished till it’s finished and the faffing around to get to that point can feel endless. Regular group shows with my dealer galleries let me be more indulgent with my time. I can spend several weeks on a piece before it’s exhibition ready.
Do you have a favourite topic to sculpt?
I really like exploring the idea of anthropomorphism and human/animal hybrids – where the lines between people and the animals they connect with become ambiguous. It feels like I’m at my creative best when I have time to indulge in these blended oddities. When all else fails though, it comes back to dogs and, most particularly, my beloved greyhounds – the most elegant and truly perfect creatures on the planet, in my humble opinion.
“[Pottery] is basically mucking about with mud. What’s not to like about that?”
Your puppet sculptures (and their characterisation) are incredible. What inspires them?
The puppets have a way of calling themselves into being, with new characters popping up of their own accord. Their stories generally begin with the briefest of absurd descriptors plucked out of nowhere for my Instagram page.
These serve as a prompt for me and my partner Jim to write the meandering backstories that accompany each finished puppet. They stem from conversations overheard in the supermarket or while waiting for takeaways, particularly ones that are simultaneously mundane and ridiculous. The eccentricities of old workmates, friends and neighbours are all excellent fodder.
Sometimes a customer will offer ideas of their own for a custom piece, which is great for widening the perspectives of the wonderful absurdity of folk.
What drew you to pottery as your medium of choice?
It’s basically mucking about with mud.
What’s not to like about that?
It’s also incredibly technical and unforgiving and infuriatingly difficult to master. And the challenge of all that does keep drawing you in – that idea that eventually, with enough practice, you could be proficient and masterful. I don’t know if that will happen, but the idea keeps me going.
Your studio is a dream. How did it come about?
I love my workshop space, tucked away in an orchard in the Te Pahu hills. I especially love that it was built entirely by artists and musicians, faithfully following a chapter from an old builders’ construction manual. The first 10sqm pod came together with scrounged doors and windows and shelving made from demolition wood.
It was a tight squeeze, with me and two large greyhounds in a space where all the processes of making, glazing, finishing, packing and paperwork happened, so the second little pod, added a few years later, made life easier for all of us. We now have a messy room for making and slow-drying pots; a designated glazing spot on the outside deck; a clean room for office work and Jim’s pack-and-despatch; a separate kiln room where the firing happens; and plenty of sunny deck space for dogs to snooze on.
What do you have coming up for your art?
At the beginning of each year, I try to get three or four group exhibitions on the calendar (nicely spaced for minimum pressure). Between these I’m making smaller pieces for my online store and working on private commissions that come directly through my website and Instagram account.
How can our readers find you and your work?
You can find me directly via my Instagram: @little_betty_nz or at my online store at debrapowell.bigcartel.com.
My galleries are: The Artist’s Room Gallery, Dunedin, Quirky Fox, Hawera, and Artists at Work Gallery, Raglan.
Debra is currently taking commissions to turn beloved pets into sculptures.
