Today we’d like to introduce you to Andy Rogers.
Hi Andy, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
From an early age, I knew I was an artist. I just was not clear on the scope of that calling. I have formal art training and two degrees in ceramics and drawing but it is the years that followed that truly shaped me and my work. Clay found me during a time of exploration. That first ceramics class cracked something open, a glimpse into the raw and responsive nature of the medium. But it was the potter’s wheel that truly pulled me in. Unlike other art forms that came easily, the wheel resisted. It demanded presence, patience, and precision. I had to master it. And if you have ever worked with the wheel, you know the kind of challenge I mean. It centers you, humbles you, and teaches you to listen.
That obsession led to a year at Red Star Studios Ceramics Center in Kansas City, and then a one-year post baccalaureate study in sculpture and glaze technology at the University of Nebraska Lincoln. Two profound things happened in that time. While working at Red Star, I met several clay artists who were making a living doing art fairs around the country. That was a revelation. It showed me that it was possible to build a viable career through creating and sharing your art. It also introduced me to the quirky and fun-loving clay community. At the time, I was exploring wheel thrown pottery with a botanical influence, but my sculpture professor at UNL challenged me to throw away the notion of function and focus fully on clay as a sculptural material.
That is where my current body of work began. It all started with the seed.
Letting go of function opened up a new chapter in my creative life. My sculptures began to explore themes of emergence, containment, and transformation. I became fascinated by the symbolic language of seed pods, husks, and vessels. These are forms that hold potential, memory, and quiet strength. Clay became more than a medium. It became a way to speak about growth, vulnerability, and resilience without using words.
My career has grown alongside this evolution. I have exhibited at art fairs and galleries across the country, taught workshops and demonstrated ceramics to students of all ages and continued refining both my artistic voice and professional structure. Each step, whether in the studio, the classroom, or on the road, has been part of a larger journey toward authenticity, connection, and creative integrity.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
I wish I could say it has been a smooth road, it hasn’t. But I do not think it was ever supposed to be.
There was a time I had to shut down my studio and move because of external circumstances beyond my control. That experience was disorienting. It felt like everything I had built was suddenly scattered. It took years to find my footing again, to rebuild not just the physical space but the emotional and creative momentum that had been interrupted. I had to learn how to work with less, how to stay connected to the core of my practice even when the structure around it was gone.
There have been seasons of financial strain, personal loss, and emotional reckoning. Rebuilding a creative life takes more than skill. It requires persistence, adaptability, and a willingness to sit with discomfort. I have had to learn how to balance the poetic with the practical, how to show up for my work even when the path ahead felt unclear. These experiences have shaped me. They have deepened my humility and strengthened my sense of perseverance. I feel more grounded now than ever—more capable, more centered, and more committed to the work that calls me.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
My work is rooted in a deep curiosity about the small things in nature. I am drawn to overlooked textures, quiet patterns, and forms that hold space—like seed pods, shells, and exotic fruits with surfaces and colors that invite closer attention. These elements speak to transformation, memory, and the quiet unfolding of life.
Beauty for me is the quiet, the growing, what has already existed or what is about to become. I create sculptural pieces that invite stillness and reflection. They ask us to pause, to center, to be present. These are meditations in clay—objects that carry emotional resonance and symbolic weight.
What I am most proud of is the way my work connects with people. It is not just visual. It is felt. My pieces are meant to be tactile, to be picked up and explored. I want people to feel the textures and see the details—to experience the quiet stories held in each form. That quiet resonance is what sets my work apart and keeps me creating.
Can you talk to us a bit about happiness and what makes you happy?
What makes me happy is presence. The quiet kind. The kind that comes when I am working with clay and the world narrows to texture, form, and breath. When I am walking through the woods and notice how light creates shadows on tree bark or find something hidden amongst the leaves on the forest floor. That kind of noticing, that deep attention, is where I feel most alive.
I am also happiest when I am sharing the pieces I have made with others. The moment I work for is seeing someone pick up a sculpture and pause, feeling something, they did not expect and then noticing the expression on their face that says, “I get it”. That instance of connection between material, maker, and viewer is one of the most fulfilling parts of my practice.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.andyrogers-ceramics.com
- Instagram: @andyrogersceramics
- Facebook: Andy Rogers
