Borja Moronta
In our series about what inspires our artists, we speak to the ceramicist, Borja Moronta. Born in northern Spain, Borja settled in Edinburgh in 2016.
The story of how he discovered ceramics is a dramatic one. Read on to find out how he came to make his beautiful ceramics.
You originally trained to be an architect. Can you tell us more about this period in your life?
Architecture was my second degree. I studied at Madrid Polytechnic University and the degree was a great way to explore many creative ways beyond architecture itself. We were taught photography and how to get the best from a camera. We also did carpentry and materials workshops, and explored many ways in which the teachings of the architecture school could be applied. I graduated at the end of 2016 and briefly worked as an architect before realising the jump between a creative school environment and the constraints of an architectural office weren’t for me. I enjoyed exploring materials, creating physical models and working with my hands, so the long hours behind virtual models weren’t enjoyable and I needed a change.
The wonderful thing about architecture and the way I was taught is that I now can apply much of what I learnt to my current practice – skills such as design, creativity, work ethic and organisation. I see my work as a reflection of my training as an architect – the influences from that time, and the architecture I would have liked to have done if I’d continued.
How did you discover ceramics?
During my last year in architecture school, I took part in a design workshop project that required us to research a lot about traditional Japanese architecture. It was a year of being exposed to Japanese culture, finding out about how the buildings are constructed, design, and how to use space etc. The teachers would ask me to research beyond architecture, into the cinema of Yasujiro Ozu, the essays of Tanizaki or Soetsu Yanagi, and I started to visually discover ceramics, and to think it would be fun to try it.
At the end of 2016, I suddenly lost the feeling in my left hand. My nerves got trapped in between the bones in my elbow. After a few months when I also lost movement, I had to go through surgery to fix the issue. It took a long and painful year to recover. Towards the end of that year, my physiotherapist recommended that I find an activity that would help me push my hand further to help my recovery. In January 2018, I joined a group of evening classes teaching how to throw and immediately fell in love with it. I wanted to do it more.
Did ceramics feel natural straightaway?
If you ask my teacher she would say I was a natural, but if you look at my first pots you’d probably doubt that. I think I felt a natural connection with the medium and the way you work with clay on the wheel. It was helping me channel the anxiety caused by the surgery and the long recovery process. I was improving day by day while, at the same time, my hand was improving. It allowed me to have fun while being creative. And as I was improving and getting a grasp of it, I was able to start putting myself and aesthetics into the work I was making. The whole learning process felt very natural.
At what point did you realise you could be a potter full time?
During 2019, my work started to get a little bit more attention on social media and from very supportive small local businesses. I received a few wholesale orders and was approached by both Fhior Restaurant and Spry Wines to produce work for them. These orders came in a rather natural way and without me really being after them. Until then, I was enjoying practising and learning. I hadn’t had the best selling experiences at markets or Christmas fairs, so while it was a dream to become a full time potter, it wasn’t a real thought at that time. Having those orders made me step up my practice and combine it with the business and professional aspects I had been neglecting until then.
I used to work full time somewhere else, so there was no financial pressure on my ceramics practice at the time. But seeing those orders coming through, while at the same time enjoying greatly the days in the studio, and having a successful exhibition at the end of 2019 all made me realise that – maybe – if I was to put all my efforts and determination into my ceramics practice, I’d be able to bring in several more orders to make a humble living out of this.
What inspires your work?
From the moment I sat at the wheel for the first time I felt at ease. It was quiet and calm, mindful most people would agree. At the time, I was working in a place where my day to day life was stressful, noisy and anxiety-inducing. I think the way I feel when I work at the wheel or in the studio is what inspires the actual physical pieces I produce. I try to make work that is calming and pleasing to the eye, that is comforting and light to hold, simply because that is the way I feel when I’m working in the studio most of the time.
I have a very analytical mind; I was taught that way in architecture school. As students, we were constantly asked why things were designed and made in a certain way, what was the reasoning behind a certain distribution, or what research had led us to the decisions made for a project. All this complements what I have explained in the last part. While I want my pieces to reflect my state of mind while working, I also want them to be functional, to have carefully thought-out proportions and lines. So when I think of an object I’d like to make, I will study it, try it several times on the wheel and constantly ask myself why it should be the way I have made it, and what would I change to make it more simple, pure and closer to the idea of it being a quiet and calm object.
Can you tell us how you decided on your glaze palette?
This also comes to me very naturally. My home is all “decorated” with natural materials, soft colours and textures. There is wood on almost every surface, pale stone around the fireplace or in the bathroom, soft fabrics all in a palette of beige and grey with really soft colours around. At the same time, I carry that aesthetic with me in the clothes I choose. You will never see me wearing patterned clothes or bright and shiny colours. It is an aesthetic I have been comfortable with since my years in architecture school. My friends jokingly say I and my home look exactly like my work, so I guess the colours came naturally to me.
There is a part of the palette or surface finish that is a thoughtful decision, as well. I don’t see my work standing out in a room or catching the eye as you walk next to it. I wouldn’t like to work with glossy surfaces or bright colours because I like the pieces to blend in with the rest of the environment in a humble way.
Could you describe a typical day at the studio?
I come to the studio in the mornings with plans A, B and C in mind. Ceramics can be unpredictable as parts of the process can depend a lot on the weather and temperature of the space. I start by looking through the jobs done the day before, at what stage they are, and reassess my plan depending on what I’ve seen. For example, I might have planned to trim the work I threw on the wheel the day before, but if it’s too wet for that, I shift to a different task.
The nature of a ceramics studio involves many different tasks, from preparing clay, to throwing and trimming on the wheel, glazing and loading kilns or sanding and packing the pieces. You would rarely do just one for a full day, let alone an entire week, so the days are very dynamic. That can help you break routines and makes the work even more enjoyable. If I am preparing a collection or a shop update, I will prepare clay at the start of the week, throw on alternate days and trim in between. Two to three weeks later, I will have enough work to fill the big kiln, and the pots go through their first firing. I then break my throwing routines to glaze a good amount of work that is left, ready for their second firing. This way, the kiln is doing its job while I can continue to make pots on the wheel and the tasks keep the days and weeks very dynamic.
What are you working on next?
At the moment I am glazing and finalising a large commission for a summer house in L’Île-d’Yeu in France. The house is an old building with white walls, blue shutters and with plenty of wall niches and window sills. The collection features many of my usual pieces for the customers’ tableware but has also allowed me to explore many still life compositions of bottles, trays and vases to be displayed in those niches and particular spots of the house. I don’t usually get opportunities like these where I can create work specifically for a space; so while it is challenging, it is somehow helping me connect with the architectural mind I have.
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Moss Green Bottle I£100.00 -
Stem Vase£30.00
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Small Bowl Mist Blue£30.00
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Side Plate£28.00
