You Are An Artist
A Discussion with Potter Elizabeth Lee
I’m not typically like this, I thought. But what the hell.
I whip a U-turn and park on the side street, near the older couple admiring a fence covered in sculpted, clay post caps– each shaped as different animals, birds, wings. I attempt to approach with less abruptness in my step, but they still startle at my sudden stranger's, “Hello, good morning!”
I explain that I know the artist who created the post caps around them and that I am going to interview her in a few days. Perhaps they had some positive feedback about the art that I could relay to her? To all of our amusement, they informed me that while the post caps are indeed nice, they were actually just speaking to their daughter, the homeowner, standing in the yard and giving me a wave.
I ask her about the post caps and she tells me that she collects them and looks forward to buying one every year. She tells me that one time Elizabeth, the artist, walked her through fixing and restoring a piece after a car rammed into her fence. She speaks of Elizabeth’s generosity, talent, and good nature. I ask the homeowner which of the post caps are her favorite. She points to a glazed, squid-shaped cap with Kraken written into the design. She says it had been a custom order for her husband to commemorate his favorite team.
I gushed about the story the moment I arrived at the property of Elizabeth Lee, owner of Madrugada Pottery. Her studio sits between her sweet home and lovely garden, and is surrounded by the flowing grasses of the Kittitas County countryside. Elizabeth invited me into her studio, pulled up some stools for sitting, and apologized for the “mess” of clay, tools in jars, and works in progress around us. To her luck, I prefer the “mess” of a work space. It makes me feel rather Zen.
Elizabeth recalled the Kraken post cap and the customer I had met a few days before. She said that the customer was a wonderful woman, a loyal buyer of Madrugada works, and had sadly lost her husband only a year ago. I realized at that moment that the Kraken post cap not only decorated the fence, it also served as a special reminder and forever excuse to mention a loved one’s name.
NOT AN ARTIST
I was rather nervous to talk to Elizabeth for The Apis, despite being a well-seasoned interviewer.
Not only is she an incredibly talented potter, but her countenance is graceful and powerful–
intimidating in a good way. When I first met her at the farmers market years ago, I distinctly thought,
I want to be like her when I grow up.
I fashioned my interview, just like any other, starting at the beginning–
“Tell me a little about your journey as an artist. How did it start? What has it looked like?
When did you consider yourself an artist?”
She replied, “Actually I’ve only considered myself an artist for about the last fifteen years.”
Consider caught my attention. “Please elaborate.”
Elizabeth grew up in the middle of talented, artistic siblings and felt she didn’t measure up. Her only brother was a fine woodworker– she pointed to a vintage ad hanging on the wall featuring a black and white photo of one of his hand-carved wooden desks. Her other sisters could draw, paint, craft, were masters of language, and one had a singing voice so captivating that one time in college, her sister took the stage in a bustling bar and on the first note into the mic she silenced the entire place.
“How powerful. She must have a beautiful voice.”
“Gorgeous. I keep telling her to do something with it but..” Elizabeth trailed off.
“Well it takes a lot of bravery to put yourself out there.” I stated.
“And heart,” she added. “You have to realize that not everyone is going to like your stuff. You have to have the attitude that if people like it, great. If they don’t, that’s okay. And don’t be sensitive about it. Which can be hard at times. Expect that some people will minimize what you do.”
“Did you feel a semblance of competition in your family, when it came to artistic skill?”
“I just felt that I could never be good enough.”
“Why?”
“Because.” She smiled. Answer enough.
“I would like to circle back to this.”
THE DAWN OF A POTTER
Elizabeth was born in Eureka, California and has lived a large chunk of her life around the PNW, but during the formative ages of five to fifteen years old, she lived in Brazil with her family, as a missionary’s kid. I noted the map of Brazil pinned on the wall in her studio, beside her kiln. Her time in South America was impactful on her life in more ways than one. Not only did those ten years help shape her perspective on culture and the way she walks through the world, but her art as well.
Madrugada, the name of her pottery business, is a Spanish and Portuguese word that translates as “the dawn.” She chose Madrugada to honor her upbringing, as it is a lyrical word used quite often in Brazilian poetry and literature.
Though Elizabeth has only embraced the label “artist” for a short time, she, like her siblings, has been creative since she was a young child. She started with cloth and yarns– drawn to crocheting or stitching together little heads and faces. Upon her return to the United States at fifteen years old, she discovered a passion for art history and tried working with clay and other mediums for the first time. But it was in college, back in the 80s, where pottery chose her.
“I still have pieces that I made in high school today. They look a lot like the pieces I make now. I was learning about art history and fell in love with ancient Italian art. That is part of the reason I focus on heads, faces, and figures.
“I didn’t truly pursue pottery until after my first marriage. I got married at 20, because I didn't really know what else to do. It was kind of an expectation. I had started community college, but my ex-husband discouraged me from going to school. It took me seven years for me to realize I won’t die if I divorce him. It was a hard decision, especially coming from a religious background where there are so many rules and you want to be the good girl and the good daughter.
“After the divorce, I continued college. I was trying to decide what I wanted to go into. I landed on art history, but I had to have an elective. I thought, I always liked pottery, I think I’ll take a class. I walked into the studio and that was it. I graduated in ‘87 with an Art History degree, but I became a potter.”
DUALITY
At this point in her career, it’s clear Elizabeth is a master of her skill. Her style is elegant and intentional, but does not strive for unapproachable refinement. I personally, along with many others, am drawn to the reflection of nature’s effortless, feminine beauty in each piece.
I stated the obvious, “In addition to an old Italian influence, it’s clear that nature is also your inspiration.”
“Yes, nature is huge. Leaves, birds, etc. When it comes to the faces in my work, I think of someone like Michealangelo who did incredible figure-focuses. Some pieces I don’t create the entire face, I utilize the powerful simplicity of a line and gesture. I also choose not to use a wide array of colors. I like muted colors.”
“I have heard folks describe your pieces as graceful and I have always felt that kind of energy emanate from you. I feel that the feminine energy in your work can translate to anyone, male or female– Is that a component that comes through you?”
“As an artist, to get a message across, one has to do what they love. You can’t just make things that will sell, you have to create what you love. That is what people will recognize. They will see that you put yourself in it. People can see that I put myself into my art. Many people have also used the word calm to describe it.”
“Agreed. Peace definitely comes to mind. Especially your water themes, like fish, crabs, dragonflies– you clearly have a relationship with the coast.”
Elizabeth gazed west in response, as if the iconic view of the Stuart range was visible through the studio wall. She chuckled and sighed. “Yes. I miss living near the ocean. Sometimes that mountain range looks so tall.”
On her website, Elizabeth describes her pottery as multifunctional– to appease the eye and to be useful- specifically one’s landscape and garden.
“I like my work to have a dual purpose, but not everything I make is that way.”
She pointed to a ceramic face circled by leaves, hanging on the wall above us.
“That piece right there, I call her Face Woman. She was one of my first pieces
and she wasn’t made to be functional. She was made to be decorative. But I also
think of the symbolism that can come with the multi-use, like with my pots.
Pots and vessels symbolize so much. You have a choice– you can fill them,
or leave them empty. There is a promise there. Vessels have promises.”
Elizabeth loves creating large-scale vessels when she can, and what’s impressive
is that every single one of her pieces are hand-built. Her pots are made using a
coil technique, versus the wheel. She hasn’t thrown clay since her early days.
“Sometimes I joke with myself that I wish a different medium
had chosen me, because it’s so heavy.”
“...Metaphorically, or physically?”
“Physically!”
“I admire potters because it’s a medium outside of my own wheelhouse. I am sure I could practice, but it clearly takes up a lot of space”– I motioned around the room– “of which I’ve never had.”
“Lots of space. And there can be a lot of waste. I saw the funniest thing on Instagram the other day– I follow a lot of other potters and one posted a video showing a warped plate she had made. The potter held up the plate and said, This is a plate and it’s wobbly. I’m going to show you how to fix it. And then she just drops it and says, That’s how you fix it! You have to just break it, you can’t fix it!”
“Because there is no going back after it’s fired.” I registered.
“You have to bring yourself to break stuff in this world. Some things just don’t work out. In pottery, there can often be a lot of waste.”
“And letting go.”
“Yes, I have had the hardest time breaking pieces that can’t be fixed.”
WINGS
In the summer of 2024, I browsed the Madrugada Pottery booth at my local farmers market. On the table was a small basket of palm-sized, glazed birds. The birds were various colors and simply shaped, their wings tucked to more easily perch on the ends of thin poles or branches. I chose a little blue bird. When I was a young girl, my late grandmother and I would watch Shirley Temple movies together. In one of our favorite Shirley films, the blue bird represented the reminder that happiness can be found no matter where you are, no matter your trials. Even in a colorless world, you can find a blue bird. At the time, I desperately needed to find my blue bird. I needed a piece of my grandmother. The little Madrugada bird still perches on my rose bush today. As I was purchasing the bird, a pair of ceramic outstretched wings behind Elizabeth caught my eye– it was one of her fence post cap designs. I found the design enchanting. I kept the thought to myself.
This summer, on another trip to Elizabeth’s booth, I asked her to consider doing an interview with me and I asked her about the wings.
“Earlier this summer, I inquired about your winged post cap and you told me that it was the first design for the fence post caps that you came up with. I want to ask you about the significance of the wings?”
Elizabeth gave pause. “Wings symbolize freedom. They are just beautiful. Wings on anything are just so cool.”
“Agreed. I think they symbolize hope, change, and growth as well. Thinking of migration and pollination, or the general cycle of things. And winged things are dying more and more.”
This led to a brief conversation around our current environmental concerns, my particular interest in pollinators, and a mutual love of birds and gardening. I shared my belief that humans should act as shepherds of the earth to which she responded, “We should be. Sorry, I shouldn’t should, we could be. But we should be.”
She then asked me if I was familiar with a scopa box–which I wasn’t– and promised to show me the one in her garden after we concluded our interview. Her garden, in fact, was what inspired her fence post caps to begin with.
“GOOD FENCES MAKE GOOD NEIGHBORS” -Robert Frost
The distinctness of an artist’s work is one of my favorite things. I can always recognize a Madrugada Pottery piece(s) from the yards of locals, and it heartens me to know that a stranger and I perceive and identify with the same kind of beauty. The post caps are definitely some of Elizabeth's more popular pieces. She got the inspiration to create them about 20 years ago while living on Whidbey Island with her current husband and son. Over the years, some of the designs have even been inspired by her community.
“I had a garden and we had built a fence to attempt to keep out the deer. One day, I was looking at the bare garden fence posts and I had the idea to cover them with something. That is how it started. When we moved Portland sometime later, I had begun focusing on smaller pieces because I had to transition to an electric kiln. I tried bringing my gas kiln to Portland, but we lived in the middle of a neighborhood and the gas kiln was so noisy! Electric was quieter, but smaller. I made more post caps that point. My studio was also in the basement at that house and the garden I had there was an opportunity to get outside and do something I love."
“Many of the ideas for the post cap designs I did not come up with on my own. I would get suggestions or requests from customers to create a sheep, or a pig, or a chicken. Then I would have fun with it– I would make a pig, but this time as a pig with wings!”
“A little community collaboration. I love that.”
GROW YOUR GARDEN
“With the people that buy your art, What is a trait you’ve noticed that they all share?”
“They appreciate the amount of work involved. They admire the craft of it and the subject. I attract bird lovers, garden people– that’s why I try to go to garden shows. Garden people are crazy and amazing!”
As a gardener with a snowballing obsession, I could testify. “We are. No joke.”
“People save all year to go to these shows. I also attract collectors. For example, the post caps– I have people who come and buy one every year.”
“Outside of the garden, what do you want your art to do for others?”
“The main thing is that they get a sense of peace and that it brings them joy.”
“I can attest that it does.”
“I still get people who question whether I have made everything myself. It is interesting that some people don’t know what it takes. Just like with painting– the amount of hours and skill it takes. I don’t know if it has always been this way, or if it has come with the age of pre-made. But what is also interesting is that this year, every single show and market has had better sales than ever before.”
“I think we are living in an age of speed and mass production. Everything is convenient and plastic and regurgitated. People are craving beauty. Things that are human made. Maybe buying an artist's work is also another way to connect? They may not have the chance to get to know you one-on-one, but as you said, you put yourself in your art and so perhaps taking home some pottery is in a way participating in a sort of symbiotic relationship with the potter, though it may be distant.”
She chewed on the thought. “It’s possible. Regardless, I am certainly seeing more demand when it comes to art.”
As the topic of community had ventured into the conversation, I wanted to know how she helps her community, or communities, to grow. I compared community to a garden– at different points we all play the parts of flora, fauna, pollinators, or gardeners. The name for The Apis came from the metaphor of myself acting as pollinator, and my hope that others do as well, by engaging with life to help it thrive and grow. The metaphor of the garden or gardener is because our acts of nurture must be done with intention.
“How do you help your community garden to grow?”
“You’re always dealing with other people around you and learning how to get along. Keeping you true to yourself, all the while,” she answered. “I think it’s important for me to be accepting of people. It can be challenging, but it helps me to be a real and honest person. My acceptance helps them to be more accepting in return.”
“And how do you help your inner garden to grow? What do you practice to keep you true to you?”
“I do practices like knitting. I love yarn and wool. I want to make rugs and all kinds of things. I was given three giant bags of raw wool and so that is my next big project. I love cooking with pure, healthy ingredients and I like to make food that is beautiful to look at because you eat with your eyes as well as your mouth.
“Reading is another thing. Some authors pull me in so that I can be there with them. I appreciate words and the way things are expressed. Reading also helps me to create things with expression and beauty.
“I love and nurture my women friends. My life would not be as nice without them. It’s so important. I think women oftentimes have a special viewpoint and commonality with other women. In general, It’s important to have friends that you can be totally vulnerable with. Because we’re kind of alone in this life, but we’re also not. We need people.”
YOU ARE AN ARTIST
“Circling back to when you felt you couldn’t call yourself, what made you finally realize that you could label yourself as such?”
“It was a process. I was involved in a group and guild with all different kinds of artists. We had to write about ourselves and about being an artist and I think that was when I finally realized that I am not like my siblings, but I really love this and I love making things out of clay.”
“What advice would you give a starting or aspiring artist?”
“To follow your heart is really important, but you have to think about day to day stuff.” Elizabeth admitted that the pottery business would not operate in the same way without the support of her husband. “Sometimes following your bliss means you won’t have retirement, but for me, creating gives me pleasure, a kind of purpose, and the compliments are rewarding.”
“So, If someone came to you and said, I don’t feel like I can call myself an artist, now looking back on your own experience, what would you tell them?
“It’s a belief in yourself. It is coming to recognize that, Yes, I can do these things that are different or similar to other people, but it's the fact that I am creating something. It’s all about creation.”
“In that case, a lot of people could call themselves artists.”
“Yeah, they could.”
THE SCOPA BOX- A HOME FOR BEES
I was lucky to tour Elizabeth’s garden post interview and gander at all of the colorful late summer blooms of towering sunflowers, zinnias, cosmos, and giant pink agastache that feed the hummingbirds and native bees. I later learned that the “scopa box,” as Elizabeth called it, is actually better known as a solitary bee hotel or a pollinator home. I have seen several of them over the years but never knew what they were. Fun fact scopa is the collection of tiny hairs on a bee’s legs and underside that helps them collect pollen.
She showed me all of the various sized cavities that house the pollinators, and explained how bees lay their eggs and fill the tubes with food to feed the babies that eventually hatch and eat their way out. Having this little box encourages more pollinators to visit and stay in her wild and beautiful garden and ensures that more pollinators will be born.
Madrugada Pottery is located in Central Washington. View Elizabeth's phenomenal portfolio and upcoming events at madrugadapottery.com. Elizabeth is open to custom work and you can find her at the Ellensburg Farmers Market and other various garden shows and events.