David Barrow

My ceramics unfold within what I call Intersentient States - works that hold a charged ambiguity, where form appears to listen as much as it speaks. They belong to a lineage that glances toward Hans Coper’s austerity, Kamoda Shōji’s textured asymmetries, the sculptural force of Elizabeth Frink, and the distilled geometries of Ben Nicholson, yet remain their own.

Beyond ceramics, the same questions surface in sculpted heads and paintings: how matter might appear to carry awareness, or sustain a form of attention of its own. Repetition and variation form part of the working method, suggesting that meaning may not lie in resolution, but in the act of returning.

These are works that hesitate to declare themselves, preferring instead to remain suspended - open, alert, and attuned to the edge of recognition.