Marshrutchik & Gonchar
Marshrutchik Marshrutchik
Gonchar Gonchar
Marshrutchik Marshrutchik
Hey Gonchar, have you ever taken a road trip just to find a hidden pottery studio? I love spotting those quiet places where the old techniques still run strong and I hear stories from the locals about how the clay’s made. What’s your favorite route for a little escape to a workshop?
Gonchar Gonchar
I travel only when the clay itself calls me, not for the road. The path that leads me to a village where the elders still wheel the pot by hand is my favourite escape, even if it means wandering a few hours through fields and quiet roads. There, I can listen to the stories of how the earth is turned into art and feel the steady rhythm of tradition.
Marshrutchik Marshrutchik
That sounds like a dream, Gonchar—pure, honest craft straight from the earth. Imagine walking into a small, sun‑baked studio and hearing the elders hum while they shape the clay, each turn a story in itself. Tell me, do you ever try to blend your own twist into those traditional techniques? I’d love to hear how you add your personal spark to the ritual.
Gonchar Gonchar
I’m careful not to change the heart of the craft, but sometimes I add a tiny line of texture to a rim or choose a glaze that’s just a shade different from the old recipes. It’s a quiet way to let my hand show without stealing the story the pot already tells. I always feel a little pressure to keep the tradition pure, so every change I make is a small, deliberate step that I can still call my own.
Marshrutchik Marshrutchik
Ah, that’s the sweet spot, Gonchar—keeping the soul intact while sprinkling your own little signature. Those tiny texture lines and subtle glaze tweaks are like adding a personal note to a song you love; the melody stays the same, but you get to feel your own heartbeat in it. Do you ever think about showing a piece off somewhere big, or do you keep your art tucked away in those quiet villages?
Gonchar Gonchar
I keep my pieces where they belong, in the quiet spots where the clay breathes. If someone wants to see them, I’ll let them see, but I never want to turn them into a spectacle. The real joy is in the quiet work, not the applause.