Laying low at the Flow Gallery

A visit to Flow Gallery made me feel like I was Alice re-entering Wonderland. But this time Wonderland was different. 

It was a world which was softer in atmosphere and lighter in it's more muted colour palette. It was peaceful, in all its beautiful oddity. 

There was a wide range of mystifying objects displayed there. And upon arrival, my first encounter was with an extremely peculiar-looking teacup of a doorbell. My thoughts were already flying and I hadn't even stepped inside yet! 

The unique and evocative experience I got out of simply ringing their doorbell really impressed me and got me questioning a person's ability to interact with their surroundings through their sense of touch. Could this be something I refer back to within my jewellery designs? 

As I continued to look round, I couldn't help but notice that the front desk itself was being used as a space to display a random and dainty set of tableware. One object in particular caught my eye though. And that object was a spoon, a totally nonfunctional spoon. But it's complex and decorative craftsmanship totally and utterly captivated me. It's neatly cut out layers made it look like a 3D diorama. It was certainly a piece of cutlery fit for a theatre. 

Moving on, what I found to be somewhat refreshing and freeing  at the start of my visit, that I then found out to be slightly frustrating after, was the fact that there was no information regarding each object. Unless you asked, there was no way of knowing anything. There was no indication of who the artist was, what the object was or even what materials were used. A true and total mystery. 

However, not having any knowledge of all these things really made me focus on the object itself more. It also helped me to create and re-invent my own back story for each piece.

For example, when studying these beautiful ceramic plates (who i later found to have been made by the ceramicist Caroline Slotte) I really felt as if there was a story embedded in them that I needed to discover. 

Having later read up about Slotte's 'Gone fishing' series, I was fascinated by her reworking of second hand ceramic items and her process of erasure. Using various techniques, Slotte manages to wipe out most of the original decor  leaving only the eerie presence of a minute fishing boat, now engulfed in a large sea of white.

They were particularly poignant to witness - where seemingly everything had been forgotten about except the existence of one man and his fishing boat. 

There was something very organic about this gallery and its objects (especially this nesty little basket below).

Other works which I found to be of interest were these glass bottle top rings. I loved the way they caught the light in the gallery space. Each one refracted it in a different kind of way. They had an inner luminosity to them which reminded me of glowing halos.

I liked the way they contrasted each-other in their polished or matt finishes.

The use of the bottleneck as a piece of jewellery was what really got me though. Thinking of the individual shards of glass that once belonged to a whole was beautifully perplexing (and apparently it's meant to bring good luck!).

Somehow it reminded me of the sea and it's tide-tossed debris. 

These rings (made by Brigette Bezold) were simply charming and by noticing the use of glass as a potential material for jewellery making, I started to notice it everywhere.

The fact that the gallery wasn't just displaying jewellery was super inspirational. In fact, I found myself surprisingly more drawn to the other various materials and objects they had there than their small collection of jewellery.

Henk Wolvers and his porcelain papercuts was a whole new realm of discovery for me. His unusual take on porcelain had me believe it was rubber at first. 

The thinness of his sculptural vessels made me think of newspapers for some reason. 

I liked how he borrowed the tracery (if not the actual patterns) of lace to explore light. 

Debbie Smyth's threaded drawings had me at hello. The stretched network of threads contained so much energy and spontaneity, I couldn't take my eyes off of them. I like how she blurs the boundaries of textiles and fine art here. It was also nice to see and read some text. 

As I tiptoed round for a final tour, I noticed that the many windows of the gallery left the space flooded in such a beautiful and natural light. And because of this, I could really take in the many sights and sounds whether they were from the outside or in. 

Ultimately, a trip to Flow Gallery in Notting Hill was just what I needed after a hectic week at uni.  It's whimsical and calm vibe proved to be contagious, leaving me in a total state of tranquility and coolness (a feeling that is quite foreign to me might I just add!)