In The Studio with Alison Lousada

Lousada is a ceramicist who traded fifteen years in luxury textile design for the grounding, anti-fashion alchemy of clay. Moving from flat, high-glamour prints to raw stoneware, volcanic engobes, and blistered finishes, Lousada’s work embraces the soulful philosophy of Wabi-sabi: finding beauty in structural shifts, unexpected kiln effects, and perfectly imperfect forms.

From her sun-dappled London studio to serene escapes in the Balearic Islands, we sat down with the artist to discuss finding balance in the kiln, the daily rituals that restore her creativity, and how she styles her home with a curatorial eye.

Let’s get into it.

After spending 15 years as a print designer for luxury fashion houses, you turned to 
pottery as "anti-fashion therapy." How did stepping away from two-dimensional 
pattern-making change the way you think about balance, weight, and space? 

To be honest, when I first started my ceramic journey, I approached making in exactly the same way as I had with my printed textiles, I wanted to print on ceramics, I tried decals, slips, I did a short course and I hated all the results. Learning from that and being critical was really important. I still approach things in a similar way, I am much more interested in the exterior of the vessel, which I suppose was my approach to my past career in print. Over time my ceramic work has evolved and I have become more experienced in the balance between the form and its exterior.

Your vessels feature cracked surfaces, blistered engobes, and exposed raw edges. 
What drew you toward the philosophy of wabi-sabi, and why is imperfection such a 
vital element in your work? 

I think I have always been drawn towards Japanese ceramics (in my twenties I was lucky enough to work with a Japanese fashion brand and visited them in Tokyo – that’s where that appreciation began) and Wabi-sabi is intrinsically part of that heritage. I was also taught about lava glaze when trying to print on ceramics – I was at Nicola Tassie´s studio and getting frustrated, she suggested I try it and really that started my love affair, I became obsessed with creating textures. I think the nature of the volcanic engobes, slips and different materials is a little unpredictable which automatically lends itself to the Wabi-sabi philosophy.

Combining coarse stoneware, porcelain, and volcanic rock means risking thermal 
shock and structural shifts during firing. How do you navigate the balance between 
precise intentionality and kiln-induced unpredictability? 

You’re correct and I have had many mistakes, for example, I have learnt through trial and error that some clays must be glazed on both sides. I have to be really careful about how I join two different clay bodies. I have also discovered at my peril that the weight load and stress of shapes on certain clays can be a real problem. For me, if a crack appears within the top in a cool way, I am happy with it. If it appears anywhere else then sadly it’s a fault. It’s the nature of the work to have a few failures and important to brush those off as learning and developing.

Having trained under ceramicist Nicola Tassie before launching your London studio, 
what was the most valuable lesson you learned about finding your distinct visual 
language in clay? 

Nicola was a brilliantly inspiring teacher but the most important thing I felt from my time with her was to just go for it, but equally to be critical of the work too.She is very knowledgeable and appreciative of all ceramic artists and styles and taught me about refiring work until I was happy, or until its limit.

What is one piece of advice that you have received in your career so far that continues to motivate you?

It’s ok to make mistakes, just learn from them.

Clay is an inherently physical medium. Which stage of the process, shaping, scoring, glaze application, or the final opening of the kiln, feels most personally satisfying to you? 

I think most ceramic artists feel that opening that kiln door can be the most exciting or most dismaying point of making work, generally at this stage I know how things will come out but there is still that awe of transformation that's pretty addictive. I also really enjoy shaping large rounded vessels, I use a type of slabbed coil technique which I scrape back when they are hard, there is a rhythm to that which is really peaceful and a bit meditative.

What environment or ritual helps you enter a creative headspace before you sit down to build or throw in the studio? 

I find it really hard to start work if the studio was left in a mess, so I often start by clearing up, a cup of tea and a good book, podcast or playlist depending on what level of concentration I need.

As an artist who crafts bold, textural statement pieces, how do you approach 
decorating your own home? How do you balance raw sculptural forms with warm, 
everyday living? 

My home is kind of eclectic, my past print life comes through in a love of textiles (I particularly like stripes) and we have a lot of ceramics around, some are mine but I always buy work from makers I admire when I´ve hit a certain sale threshold. I like to support other makers where possible.

What is one item currently in your home that brings you instant comfort or holds a 
special story, and how did it find its way to you? 

I’m really sentimental about objects, especially when gifted or made and I find it really hard to let go of things (that´s not to say I’m materialistic or a hoarder) but I’d find it hard to say one single item. That said, I do however love my coffee machine and I have some coffee cups by KANA London (I don’t think she makes them anymore and they are getting chipped) but they do bring me instant comfort!

What does an ideal, slow morning look like for you when you’re taking a break from 
clay and kilns? 

I don’t really get many slow mornings, especially as we have a 10 month old puppy called Mabel – but I love to take her up to Hampstead Heath for a good walk and a coffee. I also have a very bad back, ceramics isn't kind on the body, so I try to do a lot of Pilates.

If you’re zipping up your suitcase right now for a trip to Spain, what three key 
wardrobe items are automatically coming with you? 

A white pair of Bon Bon loafers by Flattered, an oversized white shirt from Frankie Shop and an Eres bikini.

Outside of the studio, what small daily routines or aesthetic details bring you a sense of calm and inspiration?

I live in London but grew up in rural Cheshire so I find I need to look at trees to feel good, I’ve mentioned the Heath, but equally north London is pretty leafy and I really appreciate that. I once met a lovely old man at Hampstead Heath who said that the trees were his ‘Green Prozac’, that’s definitely something I relate to.

Spain has a deep ceramic tradition and a striking natural landscape. How does spending time in Spain recharge your creative palette? 

Nature is a really important factor in my work, so for sure all the rock formations on the cliffs and beaches are inspiring for me, but equally my work is based on quite classical vessel shapes which I see a lot of in Spanish traditional Tinajas.

For a reader spending a week exploring your favourite corner of Spain, what are four unforgettable spots you would tell them not to miss? 

I spend a lot of time in the Balearic Islands, for me the North of Ibiza is beautiful and calm, I love a Cala Xuclar and the restaurant Macau in Santa Gertrudis. Taking the ferry across to Formentera; 10.7 and the stretch of Ocean there is amazing, there is also an incredible perfumery there called Centrale in San Francesc (also a great shopping spot), I love to wear Es Caló.

Whether she is navigating thermal shocks in the kiln, walking her puppy across the leafy expanse of Hampstead Heath, or gathering creative inspiration from the rugged coastal cliffs of Ibiza, Alison Lousada proves that true luxury lies in authentic transformation. Her sculptural vessels serve as a gentle reminder to slow down, embrace life’s subtle flaws, and celebrate the rhythm of handcrafted beauty.

Image credit: Alison Lousada