The Pharmaceutical Journal
Vol 279 No 7471 p361
29 September 2007

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Osteoporotic pots, syphilitic ceramics and other conversation pieces

Lin-Nam Wang (on the staff of The Journal) previews a temporary exhibition opening at the museum of the Royal Pharmaceutical Society

Visitors to the Royal Pharmaceutical Society headquarters in London from next week may be taken aback to find, nestled among the usual treasures of the museum of the Royal Pharmaceutical Society on display, items of pottery that can only be described as diseased.

This is the work of Tamsin van Essen, a graduate in ceramic design from Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design, London.

Last year, the artist used objects from the Society’s museum to inspire a collection of ceramics for her final year degree show. The popular coverage of medical topics in the media and a desire to “use ceramics in a different way” led her to discover the museum’s 17th and 18th century apothecary jars — particularly the distinctive shape of the syrup jars, with their globe and foot form — on which her work is based.

“Ceramics are usually perfect — you try to make something beautiful and ornamental. Even apothecaries displayed their drug jars [eg, delftware] in their shops to show off how successful they were,” Ms van Essen pointed out.

So making pots appear diseased turns this convention on its head. In addition, achieving the desired look in each piece required unconventional techniques. For example, to produce the crumbly, brittle-bone effect of osteoporosis, Ms van Essen added balls of yeast to the liquid clay (slip), which were burnt away in the kiln to leave cavities.

Similarly, although it is well-known in ceramics that applying an oil under clay or a glaze prevents it from sticking (known as an “oil resist”), Ms van Essen found that the “oil” that gave the best peeling exterior for “psoriatic” pots was mayonnaise (supplied by the Central Saint Martins college canteen). Her psoriasis apothecary jars are, therefore, fired three times: once after casting, again after glazing, and once more after an application of mayonnaise and a spray of slip.

The collection focuses on six conditions — psoriasis, osteoporosis, cancer, syphilis, acne and scarring — with four or five pots depicting each category. Scars are a legacy of our own health, but the way in which a person scars is also influenced by genetic make-up, she told The Journal. Apothecary jars are collectible. They can be passed down as heirlooms and diseases can also be inherited, she said. Hence the title of her exhibition: “Medical heirlooms”.

The museum’s drug jars may have been used to store cures for some of these conditions whereas Ms van Essen’s jars are intended to be ornaments and conversation pieces. In some cultures, pottery is used for healing purposes (and I have always found it curious that a pot can be described in anthropomorphic terms, for instance, as having a body, a neck and lips), so it is interesting that the artist has chosen to use ceramics to explore the stigma of diseases and medical conditions.

“The idea was to create thought-provoking objects of blemished beauty. Judging by people’s reactions at my degree show … they seem to hit the spot,” she said, adding that some people did not realise what a pot was depicting until they read its small label. She would then see them recoil, in the same way they might on realising a person had the disease. “Some people say they find [my] pieces beautiful, some intriguing, while others find them unsettling,” she commented.

Ms van Essen’s apothecary jars will meet the pharmacy objects that inspired them on 1 October 2007, when visitors will be able to make comparisons themselves. For example, a pot representing osteoporosis will be shown alongside the museum’s collection of Georgian creamware, upon which it was closely modelled. About 20 pots will be displayed, but they will not be labelled, so keep an eye out for them.