Ceramic Workshop with Karina Smagulova | Returning to Clay
- 10 hours ago
- 5 min read
Ceramics and I have history, and not the romantic kind.
This story begins with a ceramic workshop in London with artist Karina Smagulova - and a return to clay I never expected.
In my twenties, I studied Applied Arts, working with metal, wood and ceramics. I loved the decisiveness of metal and the solidity of wood - they felt immediate and obedient.
But ceramics and I never quite got along. It felt slow and unforgiving. You couldn’t rush it, you had to wait for it to dry, wait for it to be fired, and then hope it survived the kiln. Younger me didn’t have the patience for that kind of process, so clay and I quietly parted ways for a very long time.
I was 49 in January 2025, and made redundant from a solid career in brand and digital marketing. The following month, I found Frode Bolhuis on Pinterest and somehow ended up inspiring him to travel from the Netherlands to run a course in my hometown, Derby. His workshop wouldn’t take place until August 2025, but something had already shifted. My hands were waking up. After years of creating things that lived only on screens, I wanted to make physical objects again - things with weight and presence.
You can read more about that slightly wild chain of events in my previous post, From Redundancy to Sculpting with Frode Bolhuis.
Then in March 2025, down a YouTube rabbit hole, I found Karina.
Karina works clay to its expressive limits through coiling. I’d briefly explored coiling at university, but I’d never seen the technique used to create contemporary ceramics like Karina's Woman vessels - sculptural forms that reinterpret the vessel as both object and quiet metaphor.
Naturally, I immersed myself. I watched her entire YouTube channel. I studied every Instagram post. When I discovered she was running a weekend ceramic workshop in London in April 2025 - focused on the coiling technique - I felt that familiar pull.
London is complicated for me. I have a fairly serious mental health travel blocker - the kind that can make even simple journeys feel enormous. But there was one place left on the course and so I messaged Karina, and was met with such calm and kindness that I booked before fear could get too loud.
Karina Smagulova’s London Workshop
Walking into the studio that April felt like stepping back into a room I’d once left in frustration; the smell of clay; the weight of it in my palms, the quiet concentration from others who all seemed to know what they were doing.
Karina demonstrated first.
Her hands moved with fluid assurance that was mesmerising. The woman form rose steadily and confidently, as if it already knew what it wanted to be. Watching her, I could see her architectural background so clearly. There was balance in everything she did - proportion, negative space, the relationship between curve and tension. Originally trained in architecture before transitioning into ceramics, she brings a spatial awareness to clay that feels both structural and deeply human.
Then it was our turn.
We began with a pinch pot, learning how to prepare coils properly before building upwards. Karina moved between us calmly and, if asked, offered small yet transformative suggestions - a slightly deeper curve here, a gentler transition there. Nothing dramatic. Just subtle adjustments that changed everything.
Learning to yield
Instead of fighting the clay, I found myself responding to it. Guiding rather than forcing. Adjusting rather than correcting. At 20, this would have frustrated me, yet at almost 50, after a career of instant emails and constant feedback loops, the slowness felt grounding. Almost medicinal.
By the end of the weekend, a row of woman vessels stood drying. Each completely different. Mine stood there quietly among them, and I felt unexpectedly emotional.
And then… the waiting. Ceramics demands time. You cannot optimise drying, and you cannot rush the kiln. You have to relinquish control, which oddly, I felt ok with.
About ten weeks later, a carefully wrapped package arrived in the post.
Unwrapping a ceramic piece you made months earlier is a surreal experience. You’ve half-forgotten the exact form. Your memory has softened and edited it.
And then there she is. My Woman Vessel.
It felt like proof.
Proof that I could begin again.
Proof that I could learn something new.
Proof that the thing I once disliked might just become the thing I love most.
In May 2025, I bought a kiln. That still makes me laugh.
Meanwhile, August and Frode’s polymer clay course was still ahead of me, and I was just as excited. I wanted to explore form, technique, colour, gesture. Polymer or ceramic - it didn’t matter. What mattered was making.
A small thank you
To thank Karina, I later sent her one of my Nummias - Kora - who now keeps her company in her London studio. There’s something rather lovely about that exchange, teacher and student - clay and character. Kora loves carved marble, but isn’t keen on long-haul flights.
On the surface, I attended a ceramic workshop, but what I actually received was permission.
Permission to be a beginner again.
Permission to make slowly.
Permission to build something without knowing exactly where it would lead.
That weekend didn’t just reconnect me with clay - it quietly laid the foundations for the work I’m creating now. The Nummias, the sculptural forms, the slow-built pieces that offer companionship and humour all trace back to that April studio.
If you’d like to see where that journey has led, you can explore my current ceramic sculptures in the shop.
Ceramics, the material I once dismissed as frustrating and slow, has quietly become the medium that feels most honest to me right now.
It demands attention.
It resists ego.
It rewards care.
And perhaps most importantly, it brings me back to my hands.
Ceramics and I aren’t enemies anymore.
We’re in conversation.
And this time, I’m listening.
About Karina Smagulova
Karina Smagulova is a ceramic artist known for her sculptural “Woman Vessels,” using the coiling technique. Originally trained in architecture, her work carries a strong sense of balance, proportion and spatial awareness, blending structural clarity with expressive, organic form. She runs intimate ceramic workshops in London for both beginners and experienced makers. You can explore her work and upcoming courses on her website.
