How the activist-ceramicist Angus Suttie made pots with pride

Angus Suttie was a leading figure of the New Ceramics movement – a group whose surrealist designs challenged traditional notions of functional pottery through the 1970s and beyond. He also self-defined as a working-class gay man, an activist and member of both the Gay Liberation Front (GLF) and later the Gay Left. These two aspects of Suttie’s identity – that of potter and activist – cannot easily be separated.

Born in 1946 and raised in Tealing, a small village in eastern Scotland, Suttie’s early life was sadly characteristic of the experiences of so many young queer people. Writing in the Spring 1976 Issue of Gay Left (a socialist journal published by the activist group of the same name), he described society’s attempts to ‘form’ him ‘as a male’. The article, titled ‘From Latent To Blatant’, outlines Suttie’s tense relationship with his mother, father, two brothers and two sisters, who often expressed distaste for his love of dressing up. Largely estranged from his biological family, Suttie gravitated towards London in the late 1960s. Here he became immersed in the gay subculture of the city, often cruising for sex in public toilets and movie theatres.

After two years of living in London, he became involved with the Gay Liberation Front (GLF): a group which fought for the rights of LGBTQ+ people, urging them to question oppressive structures and to be ‘loud and proud’ with their identities. They were responsible for organising the UK’s first Pride march in 1972, which celebrates its 50th anniversary this year.

At the same time, Suttie also began experimenting with ceramics, and enrolled at Camberwell School of Art in 1975. He began working with traditional domestic forms such as teaspoons and teapots, but his pieces quickly gained attention for their quirky nature. Many critics have associated Suttie’s abstract and geometric twists on tableware to his interests in pre-Columbian architecture and pottery. Yet, few have explicitly linked his studio practice with his identity, sexuality and activism.

Suttie’s ceramics mark a deliberate attempt not to conform to conventions. ‘I started by wanting to make pots which were a reaction against the white, factory-produced earthenware available in every high street… I discovered vessels that were alive, appealing, moving, imaginative, witty, revealing pleasure in the making’, an article by Christopher Andreae records him saying.

Rejecting mass-produced forms, Suttie’s ceramics were largely hand built, giving them their signature raw, organic quality. Many works are provocative, phallic, and exist somewhere in between functional object and sculpture, such as Spoon (1984). Most of Suttie’s pieces from the early 1980s are marked by an explosion of colour, as seen in Doodle Plate (1982), which is decorated with a rainbow of various glazes, lustres and enamels. They have an undeniable sense of vibrancy, energy and pride.

Other works such as Loving Cup (1985), made a year after his lover died of HIV/AIDS, are much more sombre in tone. Here, Suttie created his own version of a loving cup – a drinking container traditionally used in wedding ceremonies. It is notably much more muted in colour than his earlier works. The creases in the modelled clay, like folds of skin, are made more visible by its partially glazed state. Indents of nimble fingers and thumbs also remain in its surface. Phrases such as ‘I love you’, ‘love me’ and ‘find my soul’ are scratched into the surface like deep wounds, revealing the fleshy earthenware clay underneath. Ceramics such as these are deeply personal and intimate, but no less political.

At the time, groups like the GLF were fighting for basic rights, including the right for same-sex couples to marry, and calling for medical interventions to support those dying from HIV/AIDS. Yet, the then-prime minister Margaret Thatcher refuted the legitimacy of homosexual relationships, calling them ‘a pretend family relationship’, and opposed the idea of HIV/AIDS awareness. For Suttie, these ceramics were more than a craft, but a way of life and perhaps an act of protest in itself.

The exhibition catalogue that accompanied his 2018 retrospective at the Ruthin Craft Centre records: ‘My work is saying, I don’t believe in what is happening. The government is stripping everything down to function but life is richer than that’. His works are about self-expression, about playing with and taking ownership of visual forms, and about increasing visibility of marginalised subcultures and people – albeit in coded ways.

Against a backdrop of death, rising homophobia, state oppression, and even an attempted suicide, it is remarkable that during this period Suttie stayed true to his mantra of celebrating the richness of life. This is reflected in many of his other works, such as Budgie Teapot (1985) – a camp and wondrously ugly creation that challenges normative definitions of taste. Between 1983 and 1985 he also began creating ceramic rings as an off-shoot from making small utensils such as spoons. Reflecting his love of drama, these rings are gawdy, theatrical and incredibly awkward to wear, playing on the expectations that jewellery should be compact and expensive status symbols. Suttie’s playful and sometimes subversive versions of functional pottery forms show us that queer joy is an act of resistance.

Suttie passed away from an HIV-related illness in 1993, aged just 46. Although he had a short career of little more than a decade, his ceramics remain an important record of his activism: a quieter form of protest away from the pickets and parades. They remind us to always enjoy the richness of life, no matter what life throws at us.

Visit the Crafts Council Gallery in London to see a small showcase of ceramics by Angus Suttie in the study area until 3 September. Suttie's 'Budgie Teapot' is part of the Crafts Council exhibition Great and Small: Crafted Creatures, now at the Dick Institute in East Ayrshire until 20 August