In our world of clay and fire, Richard Batterham was a quiet legend. As a young potter in the 1970s, I visited him at his studio in Dorset. He gave me a tour, explaining making methods, technical details and his ethos. The studio was full of work in progress. The pots were strong and functional forms, made while the clay was wet from the wheel, and with beautiful glazes from the flame kiln firings.
Although generous with his time, and encouraging, he was very focused on his work. I commented that he had been difficult to find, and he replied that he didn’t want “all England and his wife” to descend on him.
