Chelsea artist Kate Braine is not just a potter – she’s a storyteller, shaping clay into creatures of the deep, surreal tendrils and strange, organic forms

 Words: Adrian Day

Nestled within the folds of clay and colour, Kate Braine’s artistry transcends traditional pottery. Her work, a fusion of sculpture and ceramics, embodies a vivid imagination fed by childhood fears, fantastical stories and the unpredictable nature of clay itself. Kate’s fascination with clay began early. “I remember when I was at school at seven,” she says. “I made my mother a coil pot, which she still has on the dressing table.” Even then, her favourite colour was sea green – a portent of the oceanic influences that would later emerge in her work.

Though she pursued sculpture at City & Guilds, it wasn’t until she left college and signed up for an adult education ceramics course that she truly discovered her passion for pottery. Coming from a family of makers, creativity runs deep in her veins. Her grandmother was a potter, her grandfather a master of crafting toys, and her mother an accomplished watercolourist.

Initially trained in bronze sculpture (she once created a full body cast of David Bowie), Kate found pottery to be an entirely different realm of expression. “What I love about pottery is that there’s no armature needed,” she says. “It’s like going on holiday from my traditional training – it makes me feel very liberated.” 

This sense of freedom shows in her work, where she constantly pushes the limits of clay’s flexibility, bending and stretching it to its breaking point. Kate’s work is very personal. A near- drowning incident and a harrowing experience during a tsunami have left their marks, translating into dark, oceanic themes.

“My fear of the sea helps bring out these dark, eerie images,” she says. Her inspirations also stem from literature and film. Grimms’ Fairy Tales, The Day of the Triffids and the haunting figures of The Wizard of Oz and Chitty Chitty These influences crop up in her work: Venus flytraps, slithering tendrils and forms reminiscent of carnivorous plants creep into her clay creations. “My grandfather had Venus flytraps in his greenhouse,” she says. “I was fascinated by them – and now, you can buy them at Waitrose!” She’s also inspired by the Chelsea Physic Garden: “It’s quite extraordinary, really, to walk around. I went for a lecture there the other day. They have particular plants there that could only survive because it’s near the river.” Kate’s admiration for Venetian glass sculptor Napoleone Martinuzzi led her to adopt his bold, vibrant reds in many of her pieces, while her fascination with historical botanical illustrations fuels her organic colour choices.

Pottery is unpredictable, and Kate embraces the uncertainty. “Every time I open the kiln, there’s a mix of dread and joy. Sometimes I hear the clay exploding during firing – I just have to pray the best piece survives.” Like many potters, she performs a small ritual before firing. “Many potters make a small sculpture in honour of the ‘kiln god’ for good luck and I have lots of lucky charms around my kiln.” Kate believes it’s a blessing to be an artist. “The cruellest vessel is to be a footballer or a ballet dancer, because the talent can be so short-lived,” she says. “As an artist you can still practise if you’re 90!” A day in Kate’s studio is immersive. “It’s like being in love – I can’t wait to get into my studio. Everything else pales in comparison.” Coffee, crackers, music and audiobooks accompany her as she loses herself in clay. “I gauge time by the light outside,” she says. “I hate interruptions – they break the flow.” Kate does not just shape clay – she crafts worlds. From deep-sea horrors to surreal botanical forms, her work embodies the spirit of fearless experimentation. Â