The repair commission I almost turned down taught me something
Got a commission a few months ago to repair and restore this old family photo that was basically falling apart. Water damage, creases, the edges gone gray. I almost said no because I don't do restoration work, I make things.
But the woman who brought it in had this look. Her grandmother in the photo. Only copy.
So I did it. Carefully, slow, like the whole thing was made of ash. And somewhere in the middle of it I realized the line between repairing and making is fake. You're still just deciding what stays and what goes and what gets to be seen.
She picked it up yesterday and cried in my studio. Hugged me. I'm not a hugger but I let it happen.
Anyway I've been thinking about that all week. The whole time I've been collecting broken things to make art from, and the one piece I actually fixed mattered more than any of it.
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this hit me. people ask me all the time if i can fix a broken pot or a chipped vase and i always say no because that's not "my work." but honestly the way you put it, you're still making decisions about what stays and what goes. that's the whole job, every time, whether the clay is wet or the piece is decades old.
also the crying in the studio part. i'd have been gone, absolutely done for. joder, i can barely handle it when someone smiles at a mug i made. can't imagine that.
kinda want to say yes to the next repair request now. maybe you just changed my mind too.
This is well said. A potter who won't repair is like a painter who won't clean a frame. It's all still stewardship of a thing that someone trusted you with.
I do the occasional restoration myself, and the decision-making you mention is exactly right. When I repair a damaged botanical plate, I'm making the same calls I make on a fresh commission: what edge of that leaf stays true, what tear gets honored rather than erased. The medium being old doesn't change the eye you bring to it. It just means you have to be more careful about your materials.
Say yes to the next one. You'll be glad you did. And if it makes you cry in the studio, that's a fair price to pay for work that mattered to somebody.
the potter line is good, i'm keeping it. and you're right about the materials thing, that's the part nobody warns you about. i spent a week just researching what would even touch that photo without taking more of it off.
the real thing though, the part i didn't put in the post, she'd brought it in because she found out she was pregnant and wanted her grandmother to be in the room somehow. so the stakes weren't just the photo. they were never just the photo.
say yes to yours too. the botanical plates sound like someone's great-grandkid is going to need them someday.
the clay is wet or the piece is decades old, that's exactly it. it's all the same handful of decisions, just different stakes.
and yeah the crying thing. i had to look at the ceiling for a solid minute so i didn't set her off again. i don't know what the protocol is there. nobody teaches you that part.
for what it's worth, i think you should say yes to the next repair. a chipped vase you've decided to fix is already a different object than the one that broke. you'll know what i mean when you do one.