![]() Ocean Springs, Mississippi, is a fairly short drive from Fairhope and its Shearwater Pottery ( started by Peter Anderson of the artistically prolific Anderson family, is an idyllic location along a wooded road perfumed by Gulf breezes. On annual trips to Fairhope, I was pleased to discover The Kiln, Susie Bowman’s ceramics gallery and workshop ( In the early days of The Kiln, I was especially drawn to the pottery by Branan Mercer ( and usually bought a piece or two around Christmas. I would unpack and display it in each of the endless series of hotel rooms to keep a connection to home. On theatre gigs and tours, I would pack a piece of my pottery in my luggage. A Navajo-style wedding vase with two spouts bridged by a looped handle was a perfect wedding gift. When I lived in southwestern Utah, I acquired pottery pieces that were fired in restored kilns of the ancient Anasazi by late 20 th Century Native American potters. Mother said she’d give me china to display in the cabinet but I had other ideas and the china cabinet became the home to a good many pieces of pottery. Just before I moved into my current house, I came into possession of my grandparents’ dining room table and china cabinet. My collection eventually outgrew the tables and shelves on which to display it. In every room of my house now, there is pottery to contemplate. Hamm passed away and a barbecue place named The Pottery Grill took over the location.įast forward to my post-college years and I was again living in Tuscaloosa and, influenced by the Kentuck Art Center and its fall festival, I began to take a collector’s interest in art and functional pottery. My Harbison grandparents liked to stop at Hamm’s and I suspect that some of the glazed decorative pottery for houseplants that I now have in my house came from those visits. Hamm and others mass manufactured – that were sold in the store by the highway. ![]() I remember rows and rows of wheel-turned garden pots on the hillside outside the shop and a variety of pots – some made by Mr. ![]() When I was little and living in Tuscaloosa, before the interstate came through, Hamm’s Pottery on Highway 11 just past Cottondale was a magical place on the road to Birmingham.
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