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In mid-November, I sat down for a remote conversation with Tyler-James Anderson, who spoke with me from his office at Odyssey ClayWorks in Asheville, North Carolina. Our conversation spanned a wide range of topics, from the evolution of his studio practice to the devastating impact of the recent hurricane and subsequent flooding on the local ceramics community. We discuss how these events have reinforced the communal spirit of artists in North Carolina. Through it all, Tyler-James shared his thoughtful perspective on community and the ever-evolving role of art in times of crisis.
Randi O’Brien (ROB): Can you give our readers some background on where you're originally from and when you made North Carolina your home base?
Tyler-James Anderson: I am originally from Southern California, in between LA and San Diego.
I lived in middle Tennessee for a little bit. I moved out there with my background and degree in music, audio engineering, and sound design.
Before ceramics, my main thing was music. Initially, I moved to middle Tennessee with a band. The band that I was performing with fell apart, and it was a lucky coincidence because there was a gal up the road, Susan DeMay, who did ceramics. I had always done ceramics for fun, but I trained with her for a year and a half before I ended up in Asheville.
ROB: You said you were dabbling in ceramics throughout your early career. How long would you say you've been a professional ceramic artist?
Tyler-James: I would say for the last ten or so years. I wouldn’t consider it professional before that. I took ceramics anytime I had an opportunity, electives, and gen-eds; technically speaking, I've been making pots since I was thirteen.
ROB: Do you have any academic background in ceramics; did you receive a degree in studio ceramics?
Tyler-James: No, in ceramics, I didn't. Much of my knowledge base in ceramics is somewhat self-taught; I apprenticed with Susan in Tennessee. And I have some training from school, but it's not your Ceramics 101 training. Much of my knowledge is based on being curious and getting bored quickly. And wanting to try new things.
ROB: Can you talk a bit about the studio space that you work in? Are you in a community space or a private space? Let's paint a picture of your studio setting for readers.
Tyler-James: Sure. I would say I'm probably 50/50. I have a small studio home base. I tend to take over a space when I'm working through my process, so I need a space that I can thrash if need be – if I'm really in the zone.
But I also help run a public educational pottery studio called Odyssey ClayWorks in Asheville. I have a basic studio space there as well. Most of my teaching happens at Odyssey because we're an educational space. I've been with Odyssey for six, maybe seven years.
ROB: How would you say that living in North Carolina has influenced your approach to ceramics, especially given the state's rich pottery history?
Tyler-James: The fact that there's so much good work coming out of North Carolina, both currently and historically, has set a high bar. I find it inspiring. I was trying to think of the word for this, but my motivation is fueled by whatever the friendlier version of competition is. I think there is a certain degree of “surround yourself with people better than you,” and then you rise with the tide. I think this has influenced me the most. There are so many people with so much good work that I find this motivating to push harder or try to up my game.
ROB: Speaking of North Carolina’s quality of artists, it is also known for its distinctive clay bodies and glazes, especially in the salt/soda scene. Do you incorporate any regional materials or traditional methods in your work?
Tyler-James: Again, I would say I'm probably 50/50 between firing electric oxidation – to make production work and get things out quickly or working through ideas more quickly – and then the other 50% is salt and soda firing.
ROB: Can you talk a little bit about a piece or a series that you've created that is more meaningful to you for whatever reason, whether it's the surface or form, that you can describe for readers?
Tyler-James: I have a couple of pieces on their way to a show at The Art Gallery at Congdon Yards in High Point, North Carolina, in January 2025 that I'm a part of. These pieces I call polychromatic. They are composed of different colored slips and glaze – layered and sprayed. These are probably the things I'm the most excited about going forward. Something about the surface encapsulates the different types of work I've made over the years, but all in one piece. A while ago, I focused mainly on making drippy glazes, that waterfall behind crystalline structures. Then, from there I switched to modular porcelain. These current pieces encapsulate a lot of different ideas I've had in clay over the years, in one or two pieces.
ROB: Transitioning beyond your personal work, do you feel comfortable talking about the hurricane and subsequent flood, and some of the struggles that the community experienced there? Can you speak as a representative for a community space like Odyssey, and then also from also your personal experience?
Tyler-James: Yeah, it was a whole lot. We live in this space that, to a lot of folks, seems climate change-proof. We're in the mountains; it's always pretty temperate. We get one or two snows, never really a huge blizzard. The summers aren't that hot, and so on and on. We were all sort of blindsided because we got hurricane warnings, but we get those all the time.
We got a full day of intense monsoon rain the day before the hurricane started, and so everything was saturated – and then the flood. Yeah, it wiped out about 70% of the whole arts district. And that's just local; there's so much widespread destruction. It was a crazy, scary event. Not only did everyone lose power, we lost access to water.
We got really lucky. Our house was relatively unscathed, but we have a one-year-old, and trying to care for her without power or water was a non-starter. We fled after three days of no water, no power, and no cell signal. Definitely a traumatic experience, but I feel fortunate that we made it out.
Artistically, this is an interesting question because I consider fostering community to be a big part of my creative process as an individual. I focused mainly on how to help my crew – doing supply runs, daily check-ins, and the like. One of the things we've been trying to do at Odyssey is to figure out what we can do to help others because we're one of the only buildings left standing, right? We're the only clay studio left standing that allows people from the public to come in. So, we are trying to figure out ways to give access to students from other places or those who made their living off of their now-destroyed studio practice. How do we get them in here, even temporarily, while they try to figure out their home studio? The goal is to limit the extended damage if we can. To make it better, as best we can.
ROB: The community played a massive role in that North Carolina region before the natural disaster. Can you talk a bit about community, pre- and post-flood – your community experience at Odyssey and being a resource for people to gather? I'm sure you have a different lens on how to be an ally or a space for people in times of need.
Tyler-James: Yeah, you're totally right. The community has always been tight in western North Carolina, especially all of Appalachia. But if anything – I don't want it to sound cheese ball – the hurricane brought us together based on necessity. For example, my friends' whole livelihoods are gone, businesses are gone – an entire legacy wiped out by the hurricane.
All we can do at that point is look for ways to try to make things better for folks. Because of how my brain works, I immediately think, “We gotta do stuff.”
ROB: Speaking of that, and with a bit of hindsight – the flood is still raw and fresh – but when I hear you talking about being the type of person who's “gotta do stuff,” have these experiences changed your perspective on the role of artists and art in the time of crisis? Do you feel you have any unique responsibility in your role?
Tyler-James: I do, and that's in part because we have a big crew at this studio. The way I viewed it was I’ve gotta fan out from my priorities. Number one is my family. I have a one-year-old daughter – so we tried to tough it out in the storm for a couple of days, and then we were able to get out. But then my priority expanded from there. Now, is my crew okay? This was a big part of the aftermath of the hurricane – daily check-ins with people to see if people needed anything, ensuring everyone was safe and accounted for. From there, it was about raising money so that I could do supply runs back and again in town. My role started with family, then my larger circle, and it fanned out from there. And in that regard, then what about all the other people in the different areas of the arts district? Those are still our people. As I learned who was in need, I expanded a little bit wider, trying to drop off supplies where we could at places we knew we could get to them.
ROB: I find your situation incredibly complex when I reflect on what it must be like to be that person who fans out for a community. Which must be an enormous emotional burden, too. Then, I see you as a father and the inevitable trauma of protecting your family in crisis. Did you save space for yourself to debrief or allow yourself personal healing, or have you even had time to?
Tyler-James: It's one of those “kind of, not really,” answers, you know what I mean. I think one of the ways I've been trying to process all of the trauma of what happened is to harness whatever my neuroses are into positivity. I was super, super anxious.
Within all of this, I got lucky. There are so many people who are so much worse off than me. As a region, it's almost like a little mini-zeitgeist; we all experienced this really awful thing together. And so there's trauma bonding there. And I think that plays into the community questions we talked about before. Everybody’s looking out for each other, and that sort of thing is really, really beautiful.
But yeah, there has not been enough time to do this. I'm hoping this next week, Thanksgiving, will be a breather sort of week. I'm trying little bit by little bit, to give myself grace and to give others grace.
ROB: Pivoting away from the flood and zooming out on the state of North Carolina ceramics – the future of North Carolina ceramics – are you seeing any trends or traditions that you feel are going to play a big part in the evolution of this place?
Tyler-James: The fact that we lost so many spaces for artists – if you were a struggling artist before, and now you're going to rebuild this multi-million dollar thing, to try to have space in a floodplain again – is one of my long-term worries.
My hope is that we don't lose a ton of people from this disaster because who knows how long the actual recovery is going to take? I hope that the disaster makes people pivot in small directions rather than washing their hands of this place.
Our ability to rally, sow seeds of hope, and take care of others is paramount.
Tyler-James also recommends the following GoFundMe and donation profiles for sustained support of the region.
1. Odyssey ClayWorks has a link to donate to the scholarship fund, which they have used to provide space to those who lost their studios:
https://www.odysseyclayworks.com/scholarships-and-donations
2. River Arts District Association
3. Our friends Gillan Doty and Allie Stack got hit hard and could use financial help.
https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-alli-gillan-rebuild
You can follow more of Tyler-James’s exhibitions and workshops at:
Vase/Vase, opening reception: Tuesday, December 31st, 5 to 7 p.m.
December 31, 2024 - February 26, 2025
The Art Gallery at Congdon Yards
Soul of Appalachia, opening reception: January 16th, 5 to 7 p.m.
January 16 - February 27, 2025