Crafting Futures

Story By Jessica Hodges

Photographed by Ainsley Maddalena

Nested between the convergence of encroaching, bustling construction and serene, scenic water views, a rhythmic mechanical hum can be heard from the wooden whitewashed buildings reminiscent of the cabins of childhood summer camps: the grind of pottery wheels.

Across from Franklin Boulevard stands the Millrace Studios*, a creative haven where artists transform metal, wood, clay, and clay into stunning physical works of art.

Here, Audrey McCarthy is in her element. She centers a blob of raw clay on the head — or working surface of a kick wheel — a type of pottery wheel powered entirely by a potter’s foot and leg. Unlike the more common electric wheels, which maintain a consistent, motorized speed, the kick wheel requires careful coordination to keep the clay spinning smoothly.

Her bright pink overalls quickly become splattered with wet clay as she carefully coaxes the clay into shape with practiced skill, while the wheel hums steadily as the clay rises and falls under gentle pressure under her fingers, transforming the clay from a formless mass into a graceful bowl.

McCarthy’s love of pottery was first sparked by a short intro class she took with her grandma about six years ago. She was drawn to how different pottery felt from other art forms she had tried. “With drawing and painting I felt like there was always a lot of pressure,” she says. “I wasn't drawn to creating the perfect eye on paper, on the side of my notes.”

She continued pursuing the craft through a ceramics class her senior year of high school, where she was “given a lot of freedom to explore the medium with little structure.” She always knew she wanted to pursue something creative in college, but when looking at universities, she found that whether or not a school had a ceramics studio was a pivotal factor in her search. That realization solidified her passion for the craft and ultimately drove her decision to attend the University of Oregon (UO).

Audrey McCarthy: Ceramicist

As a sophomore at UO, McCarthy’s life is now tightly interwoven with ceramics. She is not only an art major pursuing a BFA with a concentration in ceramics but also works in the ceramics studio in the craft center on campus.

Working in such a physical craft has pushed her physical and mental strength. “Ceramics can be very taxing on your body,” says McCarthy. “I can tell when there are days that I come in and I'm not feeling it — my body's tired, my mind's tired, and that usually doesn't produce the best work.” She’s learned to find that balance between “when to rest and to take breaks and to back off,” something that she’s been able to apply in other forms of her life.

The lessons she’s learned from working with clay extend far beyond the studio. She notes that she’s also built patience through learning to “let go of pieces.” As she says this, her clay creation breaks. McCarthy easily squishes the clay back into a ball, ready to be reused in a new project.

“It can be hard when you spend a lot of time making one piece,” she says, “but sometimes it's better to reclaim a piece and make a new one and start from scratch rather than spending a lot of time trying to fix and repair another one.”

She’s also found ways to repurpose or give away pieces that didn’t quite end up how she envisioned them. “Grandparents, family members, always love like a hand-built piece,” she says, and her apartment is filled with such ‘repurposed mishaps.’

“The fact that I'm utilizing my ceramics ends up making me happy rather than just throwing it away,” She says. “Sometimes it just takes time to figure out the joy in each piece.”

Ainsley McCarthy: Artist in sewing

Hidden in the back corner of the Erb Memorial Union on campus, surrounded by a rainbow of colorful threads, Ainsley McCarthy is busy at work on her latest project.

“As a kid I used to have a lot of anxiety around creativity,” says McCarthy. Her memories of a lifetime of summers spent at camp are tinged with the true thief of artistic joy: jealousy. During hours spent at the ‘Art Barn,’ she would often sit “just looking at everything around me,” remembers McCarthy, “being like, ‘oh my God, like I'll never be as good as these people.’”

That anxiety is nowhere to be seen as McCarthy works on her latest project, backed by the steady pitter-patter of the sewing machine. She’s reworking a pair of jeans passed down by an ex-boyfriend's dad, adding stretchy fabric to the waistband and decorative cloth elements to the legs, inspired by a Japanese pair she saw.

The turning point, she says, was joining her high school’s yearbook, where she was inspired by the freedom of digital art. “That's where I got my eye for design,” says McCarthy.“I wasn't afraid to mess up as much, because I can just hit the undo button.”

Her sewing journey started the summer before her freshman year, the first time she finished a sewing project, taking five hours to sew a tiny apron by hand as a gift for a family member. “It took me probably five hours to sew this tiny apron” by hand, says McCarthy, “and I wish I could redo it now and give it back to her, but that was the first time that I ever had an idea and it came to life and brought me to this physical product.”

That first project led to her taking a beginner’s workshop at the craft center at the start of the winter term and learning the basics of how to thread a sewing machine and what the buttons meant.

“The first day I came in on my own, I was coming in with the intention to sew an apron,” says McCarthy, “then of course, I forgot it all.”

It took her thirty minutes to re-teach herself how to thread the needle again that first time. But that only makes the satisfaction greater today when she sits down and can do it flawlessly. “I'm just like boop, boop, boop, threaded,” says McCarthy.

Her proudest moment in her sewing journey so far was her third time coming to the Craft Center to sew, when somebody asked her for help. “I was like, frankly, I don't know what I'm doing, but I can try,” says McCarthy. “That was pretty amazing, to be able to share that with people.”

That was one of the main things that drew McCarthy into the craft and made it stick - the ability to help others with her skills. “I hem all of my friends’ clothing,” says McCarthy, and when things get hard, it’s “the validation from other people of being like your skill is unique like you're really good at that, you should keep going, that has been really helpful.”

That motivation compels her to actually finish projects. “I used to be a big old quitter,” admits McCarthy, “but the encouragement from needing to get my friends' stuff done, or just holding myself to it, has helped me get so much more done.”

She appreciates the impermanence of sewing compared to other art forms. “It’s changeable,” says McCarthy, comparing it to painting and drawing, where mistakes can feel final and discouraging. Her only options were leaving ‘ugly’ eraser marks, or starting entirely over. “Now I know how these jeans were stitched and so now I can make these jeans so I can put them back together if I wanted to.

But most of all, “sewing is what makes me a person,” says McCarthy. Between academic obligations, sewing has provided her with much-needed personal time. “I live in a dorm with my roommate, who I love to death,” says McCarthy. “But sewing is my me-time. When I’m sewing, no one can tell me I’m doing it wrong because they don’t know my vision. I get full creative liberty.”