Meet: Naomi Bikis

Credit: Naomi Bikis

Naomi Bikis is an incredibly talented maker based in East London, whose work is the perfect blend of practicality and sophistication. A fast-paced career in journalism prompted a lifestyle change into something slower, more meditative and tactile – cue her studio practice in ceramics. Taking the medium into sculptural forms that you would never believe are handmade, her work is exquisite for its precision, ambition, and attention to detail.

We chatted to Naomi about all things teaching pottery, the iconic book character that one of her students once named her, and what a typical day looks like from dusk til dawn.

Hello Naomi! Tell us about yourself!

I am a ceramic artist originally from a small seaside town in the south of England, based in London and working at Crown Works Pottery, a beautiful pottery studio. It’s an old mews that’s both a school and a members' space. For members, it’s a small community of professional potters where we bounce ideas off each other, share glaze recipes, and head out on wood firings. I make my work there and teach students the art of throwing on the wheel and functional work. 

Does living in London create a sense of community?

It certainly messes with the desire to have a gas or wood kiln down the bottom of the garden. But it’s not an isolated experience making in London – there’s a great sense of community. 

You were previously a writer and editor. What made you leap from that to this?

I came to ceramics through a career as a fashion journalist first. Having always been artistic, I was drawn back to creating with my hands and am a self-taught ceramic artist. It’s a blurry line as to when I first began, as I’d run to evening classes and courses around demanding magazine deadlines and fashion shows, and eventually went freelance to create more space for ceramics.

And did you have any experience with clay before you made the leap?

Apart from a short course, primary school dinosaurs were the extent of it! In hindsight, I would have loved to apprentice or study ceramics – have that time to experiment. In later life, that’s a goal.

Journalism is often fast-paced and reactive. At the same time, ceramics are often seen as meditative. Are there any parallels between your previous career and your studio practice? Or is it nice to have a complete contrast?
Not parallels really, it’s a lot more chilled (aside from kiln failures) these days. I wanted to move away from the pace of fashion, which, when you’re in it, is all-consuming, but nothing is wasted; it was a lot of fun. I enjoy the more meditative way of life now. 

And your ceramics are truly beautiful. Where do you seek inspiration? 

I love artists like Henry Moore and Brancusi – some no-brainer, heavy-hitter greats. In contemporary ceramics, I love the work of Ken Eastman and Ruth King, but I am a temperamental thing. I can equally take enormous joy and inspiration from a tiny, wonky, wood-fired piece from my studio pals. 

There’s a wealth of wonderful makers at the moment. I’ve actually made a fairly conscious decision not to look around too much at what’s happening in ceramics. You cannot help but absorb ideas and trends. My past world as a journalist required that I spot trends, ideas and threads running through collections early, and I’m conscious not to do the same with my ceramics. 

I want to pull ideas from outside the ceramics world, if I can. I look to artists like William Scott, then to nature, and then closer to home. A lot of the work I have made is almost by accident autobiographical – when I look back at shapes made over the past seven years, there's an influence of both my pregnancies and children. I’ve long been exploring work that sits grouped together, interested in the negative space and the way pieces talk to each other. 

So, when did your love of ceramics begin?

I was pretty unaware of what was happening in the ceramics world before I took a short course. But once I began to learn, I was hooked.

How would you describe your practice today to someone who’s never seen your work?
Quiet. Contemplative. Deceptively simple. Obsessed with the idea of groups and togetherness.

Do you remember the first piece you ever created? And if so, how did it make you feel?

I remember the feeling of freedom and total elation at being able to do this.

What have you been working on recently?

I’ve recently been wood-firing work – the curved form came from a wood-fire in Oxford, and this has added a texture and coarseness to the work that’s really exciting at the moment.

Your work blurs sculpture with function in the most exquisite way. How do you create this balance?

Well, thank you! I like the idea of work being in people’s homes, and for me, the home is a sanctuary where I’ll gather all the beautiful bits and pieces of life – little shrines. That could be a faceted cup but also a mini plinth with strange objects – things that make you feel something when you see and hold them.

You alternate between handbuilding and wheelwork – what do they bring to your practice?

I love the speed of the wheel and the meditative process it can afford. But I love how handbuilding can disrupt the perfection of a wheel-thrown piece. I like work that has a sense of tactility and where you can see the maker’s hand, so the two work well together. 

What does a typical studio day look like for you? 

A typical day looks like a school drop-off. A tube ride. An essential but eye-wateringly expensive coffee for £4.50. But I can’t mess around with my coffee. I’ll be in the studio for 9.30am and sit staring at a bucket of reclaim that’s been looking back at me for weeks. When will I get to it? Not today. Instead, I prep fresh bags of clay into balls and sit at the wheel, throwing bowls. I’ll have a podcast on about Horatio Nelson’s life while I work. I’ll break from the wheel and slab-roll the clay for the following day so it firms up a little – nothing is drying in this cold. This will be built into the pieces I am throwing, or I’ll alter what I’ve thrown. I’ll take lunch with studio pals and invariably end up talking about pots and how successful a firing was. Nelson’s now in Sicily with his lover. I am back at the wheel, cleaning up and preparing to join pieces thrown days before and handbuild. In the evening, I’ll teach a class of potential potters how to nail a cylinder and head home.

Sounds like a perfect day. And one that certainly requires Horatio Nelson’s input! What do you love about clay as a medium?

I love clay; it’s such a wonderful tactile, immersive experience to work with, and the craft has the richest of histories. You could work with it your whole life, and there’d still be more to learn and explore with clay. 

Can you talk us through your journey as a practising artist to date?

For anyone, navigating the life of an artist at the moment is a twisting, winding road. I have been lucky to be part of a beautiful studio for years, and that’s been a good breeding ground. Children have made making work precious and irregular, but I am now moving into a season of having more time and hope to continue to explore this medium as much as I can. 

And what about your process? Is it different now from when you first started? 

It’s more refined now. I was much more experimental before, but small children and less time have called for focus. I have specific tools I like to use – certain ribs and paddles that I am very attached to. I’ll structure the days I throw, trim, and handbuild so each step is timed well so the work dries and joins correctly.

When creating your work, do you have a clear intention at the beginning? Or do you like to let the clay guide you into the final form?

It’s a bit of both. I sketch ideas and have a strong sense of what I want to do, but I often need to make something in 3D to really understand whether it’s worth pursuing. I make a number of maquettes to help develop ideas. 

Thinking about your workshops – educating is an art form in itself. What do you love about helping students mould their own work?

I really love to teach. I find it very satisfying, and I know exactly what it’s like to sit there, loving it or frustrated by it. I really enjoy introducing ceramics to people for the first time, seeing how hooked they become, and then building on those ideas with them. I did once have a student call me the Miss Honey of ceramic teaching, which was enjoyable. 

A lovely reference! On that note, what have you learned about yourself through making?

To be okay with failure. Anyone who works with clay understands that opening a kiln after glaze firing doesn’t always go to plan. 

You have made work for Rejina Pyo, Glasshouse Salon, and are represented by M.A.H. Gallery. It’s a joy to see you aligned with such incredible brands, and so well deserved. Why do you love collaborating?

Collaborations are such a good way to push ideas and give focus and clarity when there’s a clear deadline or purpose.

One of your earliest exhibits was at the British Craft Pavilion for the London Design Festival 2018, curated by Hole & Corner, and you also featured in their fifth birthday issue, The Elements. What an accolade! 

Yes, that was very exciting to be part of, and it undoubtedly helped build a reputation as a maker. I think my career in ceramics has actually been a slow and steady journey – and that’s okay, I intend to do this as long as my hands will let me. I hope to be an old woman sitting at my wood kiln when I grow up.

We first discovered your work at Studio Omelette’s ‘Reclaimed: The Silo Collection’ exhibition at the London Design Festival 2024 in Silo – one of our most loved restaurants. Does being involved in these shows help you connect with customers or shape your practice? 

Studio Omelette are incredibly talented, so that was a joy to do! It doesn’t necessarily shape my practice, but I am always keen to have visibility and exposure. Often, you don’t know until months down the line that that’s where clients have spotted you.

Last year, you exhibited at Matter and Shape in Paris’ Jardin Des Tuileries. We can imagine that being an incredible honour. Was that your first time exhibiting internationally?

It was! I was so delighted that Ark Kollect spotted my work and brought it to Paris. Being shown in that setting was brilliant. I’ll mostly work with private clients and interior designers, so this was a lovely change.

Is there a recent project or piece you feel particularly connected to right now? 

I am enjoying the two pieces that were on show at The Art of Giving: Gathering 3 and Wood Fired Curved Form. I want to perfect the Curve Form over and over, and wood-firing completely transformed this work for me. Equally, the little plinths I’ve been exploring have been so satisfying. I like how they are domestic in scale, small objects that might sit on a shelf, and there’s something about the scale that’s so appealing.

And last but not least! What’s next? 

I love SERCHIA Gallery and New Journo, and it’s always a goal to do more together. I plan to disappear wood-firing, and in my own studio, I also plan to experiment with scale, seeing how the work feels in larger form.

Naomi Bikis was one of our exhibitors at The Art of Giving in 24, 25. 

A Modular Festive Market

Fri 05 Dec, Sat 06 Dec, Sun 07 Dec 2025

Fri: 1pm - 5pm | Sat: 10am - 12pm | Sun: 10am - 2pm

Open by appointment from 08 Dec to 22 Dec.

SERCHIA Gallery, 24 Elmgrove Rd, Redland, Bristol, BS6 6AJ

SERCHIA Gallery and New Journo are delighted to present The Art of Giving. Now in its second year, The Art of Giving is a new approach to seasonal shopping in the form of a Modular Festive Market. Customers joined founders Christine Serchia and Emily Birkett, respectively, to celebrate the season, championing independent British brands and artists with timelessly designed gifts in a low-key setting. Located in Bristol, the gallery acts as a shop floor showcasing a carefully curated selection of highly coveted brands, personally chosen by the curatorial duo.

The pop-up event challenges the perception of consumerism, offering a more tailored, considered outlook on gifting. It’s about the ceremony and rituals you share with others rather than the product itself: interactions, utilitarianism, and sentimentality, with quality and beauty taking front and centre. A small gathering was held on Friday 5 December, in addition to the regular opening weekend hours, as a chance to meander the gallery and chat with the organisers, surrounded by ambient music, a live performance by Suzi MacGregor, the most delicious cocktails in a can with special thanks to our sponsor MOTH, baked goods and festive scents.