​My great grandmother, Agnes, had her artistic talent recognised early when awarded with French pastels in 1897, by the Sheffield School of Art. Agnes was  classically trained in  the UK and in Switzerland, where her thoughtful use of colour and portrayal of light was noted.  She focused on still life, landscapes but mainly flowers.  A devoted mother to her children, she passed away in her late 30s.  Her talent was so clear but never realised fully due to her sadly dying so  young age.

 

​​Joy was Agnes's second daughter and my gran.  A talented self taught confectioner and with my grandpa Jack, they were locally renowned for their baked goods and confections, with Joy specialising in wedding cakes.  They typified new beginnings, starting a bakery at mid life in the 1950s. Upon retirement she spent more time on her art and the results in both watercolour and oils are on display.  A special gran who believed that we should always try and do something that we loved to be ourselves.     Encouraging me to choose a creative path one that was not chosen for many years. ​

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Freda was Joy's younger half sister and a true character from the start.  Joy described the arrival of Freda, as a true blessing for the family after the death of Agnes a few years earlier.  An independent spirit, Freda focused on her art and became an undergraduate, specialising in Fine Art practices.   Her 1937 graduate portfolio shows her love of graphic design, art deco and illustration.   One picture 'Progress', depicting women and their roles, reflects Freda's strong held views.  She later achieved success as the Head of Art at a secondary school in Sheffield, and was widely travelled and read.  In  later years she married Smed, her long time love and they retired to Somerset where she was an active member of Watchet art society and exhibited locally.  Enjoy a cup of tea out of one of Freda's favourite cups when you visit.

Snowdrop Studio emerged in lockdown as the world paused, so did I.  This space led to a short course in throwing clay where my hands met clay and my journey began. Clay immediately made me feel safe and accepted, opening a door for me to reflect on my experience of grief and how life events had shaped me. Clay has become at the centre of my healing following the loss of my son in 2010.  Allowing me to unlock moments of memories for me.  This presence and exploration of who I was and what it means to function after loss or change has been profound. Clay's nature provides certainty, continuity, time, patience, opportunity.  The things that I needed in my life to feel calm, well and happy.  It was winter when we said goodbye to our son, and now I feel hope every time I see the snowdrops emerge.  The first flower of the spring breaking through the frozen ground.  My gran's small snowdrop painting is gift to hold onto throughout the seasons since, reminding me of hope and happiness.  This is why the studio is named after the snowdrop, a symbol of the healing and wellbeing, the creativity of nature, a flower that pushes through. 

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I hope that you can be part of the studio's journey too.

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